Daily Life of a Rescuer
Is that a cat’s head in a basket? No it’s Michael (there is a body attached somewhere).We are sure you all remember Michael. He is the kitty that arrived at Riverside Drive Animal Care Center last November and could not urinate. He ended up having a surgery to remove his penis, because he continued to become blocked (these blockages are very dangerous and can kill a cat).
After his surgery, Michael went to Noah’s Ark, where he is currently the greeter cat. You can find him most days hanging out in the main lobby or lying on the front desk. He usually tries to find a basket to crawl in and will sometimes even allow you to pet him (if he’s not in an amicable mood, you’ll get a swat to the hand).
You must always check out Michael’s nails. He wears Soft Paws in a myriad of colors. Usually, he has a rainbow on the tips of his toes.
Michael went from being a kitty with a very poor prognosis to the president of the Noah’s Ark Social Committee (however, being that Michael is not always the most social cat, he may need to learn how to take the dogs for walks or clean a few cages if he loses his front desk job).
Are you looking for me? Darn, don't I blend in here?
Apple Seed, now safe, and not breathing like Darth Vader any longer.
Last Thursday, a friend of ours, Alfred, who does construction work, called Joe in a panic, because there were three kittens hanging around the site he had begun working at–a site with lots of trucks and semis and heavy equipment. Alfred was worried the kittens were going to get run over and was especially concerned about one of the kittens who appeared to already have something wrong with it.
On Friday, I stopped by the construction site, but it began storming and pouring rain in curtains of water, so I stayed in the car looking for any signs of the kittens. I did see one black and white fuzzball hiding beneath a truck parked near the house. That made me really worry, since kittens are famous for climbing up into engines or on the wheels of vehicles to find warmth and to get out of the weather.
After talking to Alfred later in the day, Joe and I met him back at the construction site on our way home from dinner with my parents. I brought along canned food, but no carriers to collect the cats, as I planned to assess the situation, see if our local humane society had room for them, and return the next day when it was light out (we were wandering around the construction site in the dark).
Only two of the kittens were there. The one Alfred thought was hurt was nowhere to be found. One kitten was black and white, while the other, which Alfred had described as being white and very shy, was actually a lynx point Siamese (a cross between a tabby and a Siamese). She had big, beautiful blue eyes, and she was a bit frightened, until I cracked open the cans of food and then she scurried just a bit closer. I was able to pick her up with no problem and she was soon purring so hard her chest rumbled like a diesel engine.
The little black and white guy had an upper respiratory infection and sounded a lot like Darth Vader as he breathed. Even when I put the soft food in front of him, he did not respond until I smeared a bit on his mouth. Obviously, he could not smell it and had to taste it first to realize it was something to eat. Once he knew that, he dug in with gusto.
I worried about leaving these little guys behind in the dark and cold–we were supposed to get frost that night. But Alfred was worried that if we took them, the other injured kitten would not show up. I had been around the house and barn calling for the other kitten with no luck. I had even found a box that I thought I could safely put the kittens in and hold them on my lap to take them home. I was nervous about leaving them behind.
Alfred told us that the kittens had been living in an old house on the property. Earlier in the week, the construction crew had begun to demolish the vacant, sagging structure, causing Alfred’s initial concern that the kittens would be harmed in the process. The people who had lived in the house had moved out several months ago, leaving the kittens behind. When the new owner bought the property and began construction on his new house and barn, he noticed the abandoned kittens and began feeding them. He did not, however, want to keep them.
Once the house was torn down, the kittens basically lost their shelter and were now running around outside, trying to find a warm, safe spot away from all the construction traffic. Two of them (the lynx point girl was too smart) were so friendly that they were constantly running up to the workers and getting in the way of feet and tires and dangerous equipment.
Although, I didn’t want to, we did decide that the best solution was to leave the kittens at the house to see if the third one would show up in the morning. I worried the whole way home about them, but planned to stop back early in the morning to collect them. In the meantime, I contacted Carol at the Union County Humane Society to see if they had room for three kittens. Carol assured me that she would make space for them. “What is one more kitten or three?” she said. I promised to bring them to her the next day.
Saturday morning, Bobbie and I returned to the construction site, carriers and food in hand. Alfred had told us that there would be no one there and with the quiet, we should have no problem finding the kittens. But when we arrived, a backhoe was digging up the former house site, someone was mowing the lawn, and a semi was parked in the driveway.
We got out and began searching for the kittens, who were nowhere to be found. The night before they had been sitting by the garage, but today, that area was absent of kittens. We trekked around the house and barn, calling, “Here kitty, kitty,” to no avail.
Then I walked to the front of the house and there on the porch was the black and white kitten from the previous evening and the missing kitten. The lynx point girl was noticeably absent with all the noise and commotion.
The missing kitten was also black and white, but when I saw him, I knew something was horribly wrong. His entire face was covered in blood and he was lying lethargically in the gravel.
I called for Bobbie. I was too big of a coward to put the injured kitten in the carrier. She marched forward and took care of the situation, while I stood with a hand over my face, horrified at what we had found.
It was obvious these guys were not going to the humane society. Instead, we rushed both of them, the bloody, battered kitten, and our Darth Vader breathing friend, to Noah’s Ark, where Dr. West was on duty.
Dr. West took one look at the bloodied kitten and sucked in a deep breath. “What have you brought me now?” she asked, followed closely by, “What are you trying to do to me?” Her next words would seem prophetic looking back. “It looks as if someone hit this baby in the face with a shovel.”
Both kittens were boys and since we did not have names for them, they became A and B, later re-christened to Apple Seed and Bean Bag. Apple Seed, our Darth Vader imitator, had a horrible upper respiratory infection. But other than that, he was very healthy. Little Bean Bag, however, was in very bad shape. He had a broken jaw.
Dr. West told us that if the little guy tried to eat or showed any signs of being a fighter, she was not going to euthanize him. And, once he was cleaned up, this kitten, who was in unimaginable pain, did try to eat and began to purr and make “air biscuits.” Well there was no way Dr. West was going to take the life from a kitten who so desperately wanted to live. In fact, after a bit of pain medicine, little Bean Bag tried to eat hard food and played with a ball by grasping it in his mouth. Dr. West said it was as if he didn’t even know he had a broken jaw!
Later in the day, we finally retrieved the lynx point Siamese girl. Alfred had gone out to look for her and was sitting on the porch petting her when Joe and I arrived.
When I had called Alfred earlier in the day to tell him the kitten had a broken jaw, he said that he had been afraid there was something seriously wrong with it. In fact, he had called Joe to get me involved because one of the other workers had said, “Should we just club it to death and put it out of its misery?” Alfred stopped the worker from doing that, but I wonder now if something happened with a shovel, like Dr. West thought, before Alfred got involved.
This story will be ongoing. For now, Apple Seed and the lynx point girl are safe (Dr. West has now named her “Cat-cus”–a funny spelling of Cactus to accentuate the “Cat” in the word). Apple Seed is with me, getting antibiotics, playing with his toy mouse, and happy beyond belief. Cat-cus is getting spayed today and will soon be ready to be adopted into a home where she will never, ever have to worry again.
Bean Bag went to Dr. Klein, Naomi’s dental savior, yesterday to have his jaw repaired. We found out last night that he had multiple fractures and the surgery was quite intense. As soon as I know more about our little guy, I will post updates.
I can only hope that his injuries were due to a mishap with a car and not a shovel. I can forgive an accident, but not intentional cruelty.
Apple Seed says, "I've got a snotty nose, but other than that, I am feeling fine!"
This print hung in my bedroom the whole time I was a child and even now adorns the wall of my office and library.
My mom’s Aunt Rita gave her the framed artwork, and another one featuring a blonde girl holding yellow flowers, when mom was still a child herself. Aunt Rita made a prophetic statement at the time, telling mom, “Roberta, maybe someday you’ll have two daughters who look like the girls in these pictures.”
Strangely enough, mom did.
The pictures are prints that were available in the 1960’s through the Northern Tissue Company. The toilet paper gurus featured a series of advertisements with the phrase, “Softness is Northern.” Adorning their rolls of toilet paper, as part of the softness marketing campaign, were paintings by Frances Hook. The artwork, known as the “American Beauties,” featured lovely children in a variety of poses. The pink cheeked, big eyed girls quickly became known as the “Northern Girls,” due to their positioning in the tissue company’s ads and on their products.
To read more about the 1960’s Northern Girls art prints, go to: Northern Girls
Sometime long before I was born Great-Aunt Rita sent off to the Northern Paper Mills to receive the prints that passed from mom to me and my sister, Bobbie. The strange part is, mom not only had two girls who looked very much like the children in those vintage prints, but there were other weird similarities.
Who would have guessed that mom’s brunette daughter would be a huge cat lover? In fact, my first kitten, at the age of five, was all white, like the one in the print. I named her Annabelle.
Additionally, my favorite color has always been blue (thus the print looks really good hanging in my dark blue office).
Finally, like the little girl in the print, I, too, as a child, always wore my hair pulled back in a ponytail, with bangs that my grandma complained extended clear around my head because my aunt got a bit “scissor happy.”
While there were not as many similarities with Bobbie’s print, other than the close resemblance, I still maintain that someone somewhere knew we were on our way and gave mom a heads up.
So perhaps Aunt Rita knew something long before the rest of us did–had a dash of foresight about her great-nieces. But even without a bit of divine prophecy through toilet paper prints, I was always destined to be me–cat lover extraoridinaire.
Slightly different versions of the Northern Girls.
The boys chilling on the staircase.I am feeling very guilty today. Last night I took Clayton to the adoption center at PetSmart. I could not, however, take his brother and buddy, Mitch. The reason Mitch did not go is because of his eyes. Although, we’ve tried every medicine known to veterinarians, Mitch’s eyes still water. I wipe them clear with a wet cloth each morning and that takes care of the problem for the day. But if no one cleans his eyes out, he has this black teary discharge that stains the hair by his eyes and makes him appear as if he is ill. He has been to PetSmart in the past and every time, his eyes look so terrible that people think he is sick and pass him by.
So Clayton had to be sacrificed and go by himself, because I don’t think Mitch’s eyes will ever be clear enough for him to stay in the cage at PetSmart. Stress seems to make the eyes run even more and PetSmart is extremely stressful for the cats. I wrote on Clayton’s PetSmart cage posting that he had a brother who we would like to see him adopted with. I even put a small photo on the posting to show how the boys like to hang with each other. I hope the person who sees Clayton will also be looking for a second cat and they will be reunited and stay together the rest of their lives.
But for now, I am feeling guilty for separating them.
Guilty, because they have been with each other, and us, for almost a year and a half–in fact, nearly their entire lives. Why have they been with us so long? Well, when we first took them in to the vet’s, they were part of a larger trapping project. They were just supposed to get neutered and vaccinated and return to the farm where they came from. They were so ill, however, that we knew if we sent them back, they would die.
In fact, our minds were made up about keeping them when the sibling they came with did die during the night after having a bout of explosive diarrhea. He had been completely normal, eating energetically, and the next morning, he was dead.
We knew the same thing would probably happen to the boys, who were also having horrible diarrhea–so horrible in fact that we had to give them baths to clean them up, they were so dirty and stinky.
The boys were only kittens and after getting them healthy, we took them to PetSmart for the first time last spring. But they were also a little shy, Mitch more so than Clayton, and they did not like being picked up. Since no one had ever held them as babies, they became scared when someone swung them through the air, hands gripping their bellies.
Mitch’s eyes would begin to run during the stay at PetSmart and, inevitably, they would come back into foster care. This went on two or three times until the boys began to have horrible diarrhea again. For months, we tried tons of medicines and food and nothing worked, until Dr. Kyle hit upon a Vitamin B12 deficiency. With monthly B12 shots, the boys began to have normal stool and actually gained weight. Their coats became shiny and soft and they looked healthy.
Mitch's eyes look good here, but you can still see the slight watery, clear discharge that we battle constantly.
By the time they were well enough to be turned out with my kitten clan, they had morphed into miniature dog-like creatures, following me everywhere, running at my heels, pushing through doorways ahead of me. They would scramble to greet me when I got home and clamber on the bed for belly rubs. Sometimes I would find Clayton stretched out on his back, paws in the air, flopped among the other feline bodies on the cushions in the kitchen, totally at ease.
I nicknamed Mitch “the goodwill ambassador,” because he would approach each of my cats with a nose rub and a friendly wave of the tail. I never saw him or Clayton hiss at anyone. They loved other cats. But it was Mitch who would greet newcomers, sick fosters I nursed in the spare bedroom, with a sniff and a bump of the head, telling them everything would be alright before following me out the door. I sometimes felt as if I had a partner on my daily journeys through the house as Mitch followed me in and out of doors, checking on the other cats and making sure all was as it should be. I have never, ever seen a cat act like Mitch.
I have seen cats act like Clayton at PetSmart last night. Always, they are a bit frightened by the new environment, by the sounds and new smells. Clayton hunkered down in his litter pan and gave me the look of fear that made my heart flop. If he could form words, I am sure he would have said, “What are you doing to me, Mom? Why are you leaving me here? What did I do?” And while I realize that the cats don’t know that it is for their own good, that we are only trying to find them a loving home, it still feels like a betrayal each time I leave one of my fosters at PetSmart, frightened and in shock.
This morning I got up and fed Mitchie and my cats their morning breakfast of soft food. All the while I was thinking about Clayton in his cage at PetSmart, knowing that he would be wondering where his soft food was. Why was no one bringing him a dish of Fancy Feast?
And then I noticed that Mitch was acting strange, too, wandering through all the rooms, looking for something. I knew what he was looking for, because I had made the mistake of looking for Clayton, too, forgetting that he was not there.
If I did not already have cats of my own, cats that are too shy or too old to be adopted, I would keep Mitch and Clayton. But they are so nice that they can be adopted and they deserve a home where they will get more attention than with me.
Clayton playing in the bathroom--he loves to carry balls and mice around in his mouth.
Unfortunately, Clayton has to be the bait to get both himself and Mitchie a home. I am going to believe that the person who sees Clayton at PetSmart and wants to adopt him will also inquire about Mitch. Both boys will be a bit shy in a new home, but the person who is willing to give them a chance is going to get the best cats ever. But in getting them, I will have to lose them.
And that is the other emotion besides guilt that sometimes comes with fostering–sadness. I am happy when my fosters get wonderful homes, but I am also sad, because when they get that new home, they have to leave me.
This is a really neat use for mismatched plastic doghouse tops or bottoms and it comes directly from Indy Feral and F.I.D.O. (Friends of Indianapolis Dogs Outside). These groups take the tops and bottoms that do not fit together to make an actual doghouse and use those to make modified feral cat houses. These feral cat shelters allow group housing for cat colonies and are changed in such a way that dogs can no longer get inside the openings, therefore protecting the cats.
We have often found that when we’ve tried to use the normal plastic doghouses for feral cats, they seldom will stay in them. We think it is because the openings are too large and they don’t feel safe from intruders. But by modifying the openings so they are smaller, the cats can enter and be secure from larger animals.
Indy Feral works in central Indiana to offer assistance with stray and feral cats and they always have lots of good ideas about providing shelter for outside cats. To read more about them, visit: http://www.indyferal.org/
F.I.D.O. works to improve the quality of life for outside dogs in the Indianapolis area. To read about them: http://www.fidoindy.org/
If you click on the flyer at the top about the houses, it will take you to a page that just shows the flyer. Click on it again to make it larger so you can read it.
Who would leave a cat to fend for itself?
Yesterday, Saturday, was our monthly PetSmart adoption event at the PetSmart on Sawmill Road in Columbus. Toward the end of our event one of the pet food vendors, who works in the store, came over to us carrying a giant, fluffy cat.
“Did a cat get out of one of your cages?” he asked.
We did a quick check, but the cat did not look familiar and all of our kitties were safe and secure within their dog crates. The same was true for the cats in the adoption center.
It quickly became apparent that someone had dumped the cat in the store. A visit to the grooming portion of PetSmart, as well as the Pet Hotel, revealed that the cat had not escaped from either place.
After a few words about what we should do with the cat, one of our volunteers took the Maine Coon kitty to Noah’s Ark to have Dr. West evaluate him. We also did our own quick check before he left and found the cat was front declawed.
After he arrived at Noah’s Ark, we found more pieces to our puzzle that just did not fit. First of all, his bladder was enormously enlarged, which frightened the staff at Noah’s Ark, because they were worried he was blocked and unable to urinate. But after providing a litter pan and a few other incentives, the gorgeous male kitty, peed a large volume and allayed their fears. What this meant, however, was that the cat had been holding his urine because he could not find a litter pan. He had been holding his urine so he would not make a mess and because he was so scared.
That changed our idea about when he may have been dumped in the store. If his bladder was so enormous and he had been trying not to pee, he may have been dumped at PetSmart either on Friday or sometime early Saturday or even earlier in the week. He may have crept around the store, hiding under shelving and behind pallets of cat litter, undiscovered until he was brought to our attention.
What we could not figure out, and still can’t, is how someone walked into the store with this large cat and no one saw them just leave him. Perhaps they had him in a cart and abandoned the cart and cat? We probably will never know. But the kitty popped out just before we were getting ready to leave for the day. Thankfully, we were late on our departure or he may have suffered a different fate.
We named the brown and gold Maine Coon, Skylar. A little boy had been visiting our kitties and left a donation for us. As he was leaving, his mom called him Skylar and it seemed like a perfect name for our abandoned kitty.
Skylar, we also learned, is already neutered, is only 1-2 years old, and is very healthy. Why someone would dump a declawed, young, and gorgeous cat is beyond all of us. But we are in the habit of rescuing cats, so, of course, the habits of those who leave their pets behind is a mystery.
Skylar will now go into foster care until we can find him a home where he will be safe and loved the rest of his life. The next time he appears at PetSmart, we hope it will be to get adopted, wiping clean the memory of his abandonment.
Who could leave this beautiful cat behind?
Ruby, one of 22 Himalayans, rescued from an elderly breeder who was not caring for the cats.
I had an email this morning from my friend Cheryl Cochran who rescues purebred cats from shelters and other horrific situations.
Here is what Cheryl wrote (and she sent photos, which you can access at a link later in the post):
“A breeder of Himalayan kittens with dementia could no longer care for her
cats and kittens, several of which were newborns. The woman’s family
wanted the cats out of the house as soon as possible. All vetting was needed
and the family was unable to help with the cats’ removal, vetting, or care.
The cats and kittens were picked up by one of the rescues on Friday, March 19.
Newborn Himalayan kittens in a box at the house they were rescued from.
“Sadly, as of today, two of the newborn kittens died before we were able to
get them out of this home. We did get one kitten we named Boo Boo out safely with her mommy, Ruby. But we were not able to keep the tiny kitten alive.
She died this evening. We took her to our vet and he tried to save her, but the poor,
tiny kitten was only 16 days old and just was not strong enough to fight
the infection she had. The poor thing had pneumonia. The mommy cat, Ruby, had been bred every 4 months, so she was not strong enough herself to support
the kittens. We are sad to say that poor Boo Boo went to heaven tonight.
Bless her little heart. She tried, but was not able to continue to stay here with her mommy.
“Persian Purrbaby Rescue and Hal’s Haven are partnering with another rescue
group in order to handle the vetting and care of so many cats and kittens. All of these organizations are very small and are strictly run by volunteers. They do not have the funds to handle this situation. However, the groups could not stand by and allow these beautiful purebred kittens and cats to be dumped in a pound, or worse.
“All of the cats and kittens needed physicals, testing, vaccinations, flea and
worm treatments, spay or neuter, and grooming. Many are in need of
socialization. Carriers had to be purchased and a van rented just to move
the cats to safety. The costs have, and will, continue to add up quickly,
but the rescue groups needed to act quickly. The original count on the number of cats was 22. There were three newborn kittens at first count, but two died before the cats could be picked up. One cat, who was originally forgotten about, was also added, bringing the total to 21.
One of the cats who was rescued.
“Upon arrival, all were very dirty, most were matted, and several were sick. Those that were old enough and healthy enough have already been spayed or neutered. All have tested negative for feline leukemia, with the adults also negative for FIV and Heartworms. All have been vaccinated, dewormed, treated with Revolution, and microchipped.
“One of the adults (Sabrina) has had over 100 kittens!! She had kittens in
January and is 11 years old. Sabrina had bloodwork before surgery.
While she was being spayed, she also had a dental and three teeth,
including a canine, were pulled. Sabrina did not handle the anesthesia
well and had to be watched closely for 24 hours until she was alert.
“Another adult (Ruby, pictured in the first photo of the blog), we believe, has been bred every four months for at least the last two years. Ruby had kittens in December 2008, July 2009, November 2009, and March 2010. This we know from their registrations. We believe she also had kittens in March 2009. One of her kittens that was born in
November may have to have surgery to repair his rectum. We are unsure if
there was an injury or a birth defect and we have to wait for the swelling
to go down with treatment to find out.
“If you would like to see the pictures of the cats and the environment they
came from you, can see them at: Snapfish, Memphis Himis
“Any donation you can make, large or small, will be so much appreciated and used for the care of these kittens and cats.
“Hal’s Haven has generously agreed to collect donations and start the
vetting through their organization. If you can help, you can send your tax
deductible donation to:
“HAL’S HAVEN, INC., 2108 Wells Landing Road,
Danville, Kentucky, 40422
“Or donate through PayPal by clicking on the
following address which is already specified for this rescue:
Hal’s Haven Paypal
“You can also donate to: PERSIAN PUREBRED & PURRBABY RESCUE, P.O. Box 12395, Columbus, Ohio, 43212.
“Thank you so very much for your concern and generosity. A huge purr is
being sent your way.
Cheryl Cochran
Persian Purebred & Purrbaby Rescue
P. O. Box 12395
Columbus, OH 43212
ccrescue614@yahoo.com
http://www.petfinder.com/shelters/OH600.html
Linda Hudman, CPA
President, Hal’s Haven, Inc.
for Orphan Kittens and Displaced Cats
2108 Wells Landing Road
Danville, KY 40422
(859) 319-2056
lhudman@mis.net
www.halshaven.petfinder.com”
A sick kitty with very runny eyes needs help.
Just seeing these cats in the filthy conditions they were living in and how sick they were makes me want to remind everyone that they should always buy from a reputable breeder, whose home they have visited to see the conditions the animals are living in, or adopt from a rescue or a shelter.
Please also don’t ever buy a puppy or a kitten from a pet store such as Petland or Jack’s Aquarium, where you have no clue what kind of environment the animals have come from. Additionally, the animals usually have had very little (if any) vet care and have not been spayed or neutered, leaving that up to the new owner to do and just leading to more unwanted animals being born.
Pet stores such as PetSmart and PETCO actively work with shelters and rescue groups. The animals that are featured in their stores have come from rescues and shelters where they have been vetted and fixed. In fact, PetSmart is making it a policy that within the next two years, all animals in their stores, must be spayed/neutered prior to adoption.
The cute purebred puppies and kittens that you see in places like Petland, more than likely came from a breeder or puppy mill. After viewing the photos in this blog of the cats that were rescued, you can see the horrible conditions that some of these animals come from. I have had people tell me that by buying the puppy or kitten at the pet store, they “rescued” it, but in fact, they just added money to the unsavory breeder’s pocket and made it more than likely that the breeder will continue to produce more animals in horrible situations. Do not buy from pet shops. There are wonderful purebred cats, kittens, dogs, and puppies at rescues and shelters, as this story clearly shows. In fact, 25 percent of the dogs that come into shelters are purebred.
I have also heard stories of people who bought a cat at Jack’s Aquarium for $9.95 on special, because the cute kitten was now getting too big and they needed to get rid of it. The person who bought the cat, who had no vet care and was not spayed, was worried about what would happen to the cat if no one bought it. What does happen to the cats and dogs they cannot sell?
Since this $9.95 cat had not been spayed, the person who bought it also failed to have the surgery done and the cat went on to have two litters of kittens until Black and Orange had the cat spayed.
Please try to support shelters and rescues to find your next best friend. If you must go to a breeder, make sure they are reputable and take good care of their animals.
This poor kitty attests to the fact that you should always check out the breeder and support the work of rescues and shelters.
Yes, I think this will work nicely. It reads well. Could you fetch my eye glasses, please?
Kristin has been getting a mailer ready to send out telling about Naomi’s dental surgeries for people who may not receive our emailed newsletters. While she was stuffing envelopes, she had a bit of help from Koko. Unfortunately, Koko turned out to be a real slacker and had to be fired from the job. It’s hard on the paws, he complained.
By my left whisker, I do believe my mom did a great job with this. I give it my stamp of approval. One paw up!
Eventually, the job just became too much for him and poor Koko took a break inside the envelope box, which, by the way, makes a very nice bed.
This is my envelope box. Don't even think about taking it away from me.
We want to thank Kristin and Koko for all their hard work to help raise money for Naomi’s surgeries. Koko has also agreed to act as “enforcer” and “hit cat” if anyone fails to make good on their pledge of support. You may wind up in an envelope box, too, if you make Koko mad (and we doubt you will fit in it as well as Koko does).
It seems like no matter what site I happen to be browsing on the internet, I always stumble across animal lovers–even in the most unlikely places.
For example, since I write quite a bit I often scan writing blogs and try to keep up with the latest information on publishing and writers’ groups.
Perusing the Central Ohio Fiction Writers’ web site, I discovered that one of the COFW members, New York Times Best Selling Author, Lori Foster, collaborated on a book called Tails of Love. The proceeds from the sale of this book, which features an anthology of animal stories, benefit AAF, Animal Adoption Foundation, a no-kill animal shelter in Hamilton, Ohio.
Wow! I had no idea.
My next surprise came on the Guide to Literary Agents Blog. While checking out the rules for the Dear Lucky Agent Contest, I discovered that editor Chuck Sambuchino has a category called “Dog Stuff” in his blog. The very first photo on that page featured his dog Graham reading a book (no, seriously, it did–click on the link and go look at the picture!).
Even on The TUTs Adventurers Club web site, positive thinking guru, Mike Dooley is posing with his dog.
Mike Dooley and best bud.
Mike always says, “Thoughts Become Things…choose the good ones!” Somehow, animals must always be on my brain and in my thoughts even when I am in realms beyond animal rescue. Because of this, I seem to find animal lovers like myself everywhere I go.
I don’t mind that at all.
Who wouldn't want to find me in their humane trap?
Many of the cats we have posted for adoption on our Petfinder site came from our trapping projects. When we started out doing Trap-Neuter-Return (TNR) several years ago, the main goal was to trap the cats, get them fixed, and reduce the number of unwanted kittens being born each year. But always, we would catch wonderful cats and kittens in our traps, too, not just the ferals we had in mind and who wanted nothing to do with us. We’ve trapped Siamese and Himalayans and all manner of purebred cats, as well as tiny kittens that had never been around people yet still knew how to grab our hearts by purring and giving a head butt.
There are always unexpected surprises when you take on a trapping project.
The project I was working on for the past few weeks was no exception. Lots of surprises, including one very small gray and furry surprise.
I had an email at the beginning of the month about several cats in a factory warehouse area. With large semis going in and out all the time and machinery moving large pallets, the kittens born to the more wily old timers were not surviving long. Could we help?
So I set traps for several nights. The very first cat I trapped was a tiny gray kitten. It became pretty clear within the first day or so that he was not feral. In fact, he is very tame and rolls around for belly rubs as soon as you begin petting him. I don’t know how some of these kittens are so good with humans while others, in the same situations, are utterly terrified. I know this little guy wasn’t socialized and yet he loves to be petted and held.
The rest of his family, five other cats altogether, are also not acting like feral cats. They are shy, but they don’t try to escape and they don’t hiss or growl. What to make of all this?
Members of the family hanging out together after their trapping adventures.
I finally caught the last cat this past Monday. He is the senior citizen of the group at 2-3 years old. The others were all between 6 months and a year. Being the oldest, he was the smartest and had avoided the traps longer than the others. But hunger eventually won out over fear. While he was the most “feral-acting” of the clan, he still was not at all what I was expecting.
Another surprise.
This big gray male acts as if he was someone’s pet at one time and had reverted to a semi-feral nature after years of living on his own. Fearful in the trap at first, he now acts as if he is waking from a dream, remembering a former life where someone else took care of him. It is strange to see the transformation.
The little gray kitten, who is now named Samuel, will be going to PetSmart in the near future to find a new home. The rest of his family, after being assessed for adoptability, will go to a warm, safe, and very quiet barn. No more large trucks to dodge. No more being hungry and cold. No more kittens that climb up into warm engines and cannot escape. No more surprises for them. Only a calm, peaceful life on a farm.
Like little Samuel, every trapping project brings something unexpected. It gives me great joy to take those surprises and turn them into blessings for other people. Samuel will soon be someone’s loved and adored companion, as have many others that wandered into our traps. Who could have known how wonderful our traps could be, magically transforming the lives of all who enter?
Truly a surprise…
The oldest and smartest of the family and the last to be trapped.