Kittens delivered

In honor of Adopt-A-Cat month I thought I should finally finish the kittens’ story. It isn’t the end though as you will see. If you need to catch up on the rest of the story see these links: first, second, third, fourth and fifth.

The Charmed Ones

The day came when I had to deliver the Charmed Ones to their new home but first I spent some extra time with that litter, all together for the last time. I couldn’t help but cry even though I knew it would work out for the best. Those kittens had nothing but love waiting for them. Finally I had to gather up the girls and load them into a carrier.

last time the 3 red tabbies were together

                                                                        

Taylor, now Phoebe

Tinkerbell and Trinket, now Page & Piper

We took the trip into town and I delivered them to the professor and her son. Already they had a corner of a room all set up for the kittens. The resident cat watched from high atop some shelves as I released the kittens. I could see the disgust in her face. I waited and watched as the girls investigated their new surroundings then quietly slipped away. I didn’t want anyone to see the tears welling in my eyes.

Tortie, now Gaia

When Tortie, now named Gaia, was 12 weeks old I delivered her to the couple’s apartment. As I explained to them about introducing new cats and the importance of a period of isolation Freya pounced. I held Gaia in my hands but instantly Freya took it upon herself to give the kitten a welcoming bath. Freya’s front paws enveloped Gaia and the two cats became instant buddies. I’d never seen an introduction like that before. I was sad to lose yet another energetic soul but I didn’t cry this time. Instead I laughed. Those two cats belonged together.

Then it came to Scotty. I’d only spoken to his appointed new owner a couple of times but I was sure she still planned to adopt him. She waited patiently for my word that he was ready to go. When I called and told her it was time she invited me to her place right away. This was about the time when Effie died and I had somehow attached my broken heart to that snuggly little kitten. Each time I looked into his eyes I knew that he was one of “those” cats, the special ones, the ones who stayed with me. Scotty and I bonded tightly.

Scotty

I tried desperately to bargain with the young woman, offering her one of the red tabbies. Then I surprised even myself when I offered her one of the black and white kittens. She had shown an interest in them early on until I told her I’d planned to keep them. Scotty’s new mom stuck to her guns. Scotty was the one for her so I relented. Another loss to face so soon.

That afternoon I collapsed on the floor of the kittens’ room and sobbed. Scotty scooted up to cuddle under my chin. I squeezed him hard hoping to keep the memory of him as close to my heart as possible.

I closely inspected the apartment where Scotty would move and could find nothing wrong with the situation. She had one other cat, an older blue cat that was used to having a companion. Her roommate had just moved out taking her pet with her so Scotty was going to fill that void.

Scotty/Toby

Inside the small room where Scotty would spend his isolation period she had arranged an amazing array of toys, climbing boxes, food and water bowls and a bed. What a playground for my baby! I let him out of the carrier and he immediately set to investigating his surroundings. Enthralled with the new environment he looked up to me just once as if to say he’d be all right and started playing. Scotty’s new person gave me a whole sack full of fresh catnip she’d gotten from her parents’ home and I left knowing Scotty would be fine.

Later she told me that she’d spent that first night on the floor of Scotty’s room just to be sure he was all right. Yes, they’d bonded. I knew then that Scotty truly was a special cat.

I kept in touch with all the new owners and continued to get nothing but great reports and wonderful pictures of my “kids.” However, at one point Scotty’s person fell off the radar for a time. I searched and searched but couldn’t find her. She’d left the university rather suddenly and no longer lived at that apartment. I grew panicky wondering about my baby and what had become of him and I worried about his person. I hoped she was okay.

Finally the internet led me to her parents in another state. I learned that she’d had a terrible experience and moved back home for a short time but Scotty was helping her cope. He adapted to the family dog easily and remained a rock for the young woman. Now she’s gone back to school to get a law degree and I believe loves Scotty as much as I still do. I think of him nearly every day but I know he in the right place, with the right person.

He has a new name, Toby, but when she and I talk of him we still refer to him as Scotty/Toby. I just can’t help it.

So I found homes for five of the nine kittens but then I had to stop. I couldn’t take any more losses. The two red tabbies, Trucker and Tweety, became Gooseberry and Strawberry and started the process of crawling into my heart. I had planned to get the mothers spayed and vaccinated and then turn them back out with the males but after such a long time in the house, I just didn’t feel right about it. They had become housecats, even if I couldn’t touch them, they were my housecats. To this day they remain wary of any attention I pay them but Sparks and Tourmalina are home.

I may feel sad sometimes when I miss those kittens but I am so happy that I found such great homes for them. I trust their new owners and know that they are all loved and well-cared for. It is a happy ending to that part of their life story.

Adopt-a-Cat Month

You can find pedigreed cats, like Toy here, at a shelter

Just a short post today. I wanted to be sure everyone remembers that June is Adopt-A-Cat Month. If you've been thinking about adding a cat or two to your life now is the time. And don't just think about the kittens, adorable and huggable as they are, but check out the adult cats too. With an adult cat you can see what you get without having to go through that sometimes trying kitten phase.

Kittens in a shelter

Another consideration is a special needs cat. Maybe your local shelter or PetFinder.com has a cat with only three legs, or one that is blind or one that has been abused or neglected. If you have the patience and the love these can be some of the best cats around.

One such cat appeared recently in Toronto. It was found inside a garbage bag inside a box and, get this, she had a stomach tube in her! Someone had cared enough at one time to spend the money to have this tube placed so surely she had a good home at one time. Read more about it here. I would think that some local veterinarian would remember treating this cat. I hope things work out for her. I sure would like to know the whole story, wouldn't you?

Grief So Deep, So Searing

Bluebird (Hobby on top)

There’s a point in the mourning process where no amount of comfort or consoling will help. In fact, it may hurt no matter the intent. Perhaps this is the stage of disbelief, I don’t know. But I am at that point right now. Have been for quite some time.

I don’t want words of comfort, no hugs, no sympathy. I only want my loved ones back. I heard a song the other night that included a phrase, “How do I turn your memory / Back into you instead?” (Symphony in 16 Bars, Kenny White) It really cut to my heart. That’s exactly how I feel.

At this point in my life, though I feel yet young, a fledgling in this thing called life, I have experienced too many losses. They seem to be piling up and each one only gathers all those before into a larger yarn ball of grief.

Just last month I lost not only Rainbow and Twygal but also found out that Fred, another of my colony cats, had died back in October. Of course all the pain from those losses entwined so closely with those of earlier times. The ties that bind. Twygal brought forth memories of Gabbie, Gabrielle’s Galaxy, her namesake, lost in ’94 before Twygal was even born. Thoughts of Mouse, her supposed mother, bring a sad smile to my face. And Aztec, my precious princess, wanders into my thoughts, a very special girl also born in ’94 and lost too soon.

Twygal, Aztec, Rainbow

Rainbow heralds her sister Ozma and her half brother Little Boy, her mother Hobby and the sisters I didn’t keep, Harvest and Jacqueline. Fred, who was once Toe to me, reminds me of Tic and Tac who died only babies, too young to fight. Bluebird, the first of her litter to leave brings back the anguish of losing her mother to diabetes as well as worries for the future of her brothers.

Effie & kittens, Fuzzball, Question, Bluebird

All of these thoughts crowd my senses and stop me from time to time, freeze my thought processes and keep me from creating. Every day I’m brought right back to a time when they were still here. Feeding times mean that Rainbow is no longer on top of the freezer demanding her food, Bluebird’s spot on the shelf is now taken by Glitter and the cat tree is empty, no Twygal to call for my attention.

Rainbow

Twygal

Pill time means fewer pills to set out, no fluids for Rainbow to fight. Shopping for cat food is no longer the Great American Search for the new foods Rainbow or Bluebird might try. Now I can buy specific foods for the remaining cats and they will eat them. At bedtime Rainbow and Bluebird no longer fight for a spot under the blankets with me and Twygal’s purr no longer rests upon my side as I try to sleep.

My spirit has been injured, my heart broken into so many pieces I’ll never puzzle it back together again. And every pieces carries a soul indelibly fixed in my circle of muses. Someday Rainbow will be our guide back together again.

Tennessee Walking Horses

Bunny, a Quarter Horse

I am in tears and not for the reason you'd think. I just watched this video from ABC News Nightline and can't believe the things we humans do to animals that trust us.

All my life I've watched horse shows admiring the beauty of the species, watching the "natural" gaits and the "free" spirits as they floated around the rings. As I got older I began to realize the realities of those spectacles and lost my love for the sport. I knew that poor Hackney ponies were forced to wear chains on their feet in order to make them lift their legs up high in the ring.

I learned that those beautiful flowing tails were broken to make them stand up tall. And I discovered that Tennessee Walking Horses didn't really have that exaggerated gait naturally. I began to wonder just how it was that they got those Western Pleasure horses to hang their heads so darn low to the ground.

Bunny

I thought I'd heard that a lot of these practices were now banned in show horses but haven't seen a society horse show in many years nor looked into that world in quite some time. I remember years and years ago seeing those horses in their stalls struggling to stand comfortably with their feet fixed with extra high "lifts" on their hoofs. But then I stopped seeing hoofs fixed quite so high and hoped that things had changed. Now, from what they've shown on this video I see that things haven't changed all that much.

Horses are special creatures. If you've ever known a horse you will understand that. A horse is naturally a prey animal but somehow trusts us enough to partner with us as we ride or drive them. To truly enjoy your time with a horse you develop a strong bond with that animal. I always felt that I became a part of the horse and the horse a part of me when I worked with my own.

I knew what Gaucho would shy at long before he even noticed it. I could feel how Mike wanted me to adjust my posture to make his stride more comfortable as the grade of the trail changed. I knew when Blueboy was having trouble with his footing and changed our path or got off of him. And when Toby was done for the day I knew when to turn around and head back to the barn even though he was willing to go on.

Most importantly I took care of my horses and listened to their needs. We enjoyed each other's company.

Why do owners think that Tennessee Walking horse gait is so important that they'd allow someone to torture trusting horses in such a cruel fashion? It doesn't look right at all. I'd rather see they lope and canter like a normal horse. Why does a horse have to lift its feet so darn high while pulling a buggy? Aren't horses showy enough as they are? And why in the world do they think that a Western Pleasure horse gets any pleasure out of holding its head down so low to the ground? That's not the proper posture for horses; I worry that they might be injuring their backs.

If you were able to watch that video what did you think? Have you ever wondered what went on behind the scenes of horse training? What about racing horses? Do you wonder what weaknesses are bred into those poor horses just so they can move faster? Think about it as you watch the Preakness this weekend.

I love reading comments from my readers. Please let me know your views on horses and our relationships with them.

Twygal - Oct 1, 1994 to April 27, 2012

Fred (Toe) - Fall 1995 to Oct 2011

Rainbow - April 7, 1994 to April 15, 2012

Twygal's last day

Twygal on Wednesday: she didn't like her trip outside

Friday morning Dr. Tammy will be helping Twygal escape her suffering. But I’m afraid she has already left the fold in part.

It has been a difficult week because Twygal has continued to eat, drink, and even play despite the growing lump on her face. However, on Wednesday she stopped eating. On Thursday she became very grumpy, refusing even to be petted. She has always been a very sensitive cat and I’ve had to tread lightly with her emotions and moods but that’s just a part of her wonderful personality.

Thursday evening she started bleeding from her mouth and nose again and she’s having even more difficulty breathing. I’m just comforted that she will still sleep on top of me in bed. That is, as long as I don’t touch her.

I worried about her last moments because she always gets very stressed when I take her to the clinic. I don’t want her passing to be so traumatic for her, though it definitely will be for me. To make her transition a little less stressful I will be giving her a light sedative before leaving home.

Though they were never friends in life perhaps Twygal will join with Bluebird and Rainbow and romp happily in heaven.

Twygal's struggle

 This is a note to the Universe: enough all ready!

Isn’t enough that I just lost Rainbow last week? Hasn’t Twygal suffered enough with her colitis trouble? Do we really need any more?

Twygal’s “lump” has been slowly growing and pushing her face out of whack. Today she won’t eat very much and has been mostly quiet all day. Last night she really got to me when she found Rainbow’s little cubbyhole and hid there for part of the night. Now, just now, she started bleeding from both her mouth and her nose.

 

When I spoke to her vet on Saturday he gave me a list of things to watch for in order to make “the decision” in other words, euthanasia. One of the things was a decrease in appetite, which is always a bad sign. Another sign is blood from her nose or mouth.

I was hoping for a good night’s sleep tonight but now I’m sure I’ll be awake all night watching Twygal and hoping the bleeding stops. And I’m afraid I’ll be calling the vet first thing in the morning.

Have any of you ever had a cat with a nasal tumor? If so, did you treat it? How did it progress and did you have to make “the decision?”

Please keep Twygal in your thoughts tonight (if you see this before morning).