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  • The Cat Saga

    I'm over half a day behind on where I want to be as we start the beta testing phase on the database, and decided to tell the tale before I dive into playing frantic "catch up" on the boards before I lock the site to updates until beta is done and the database is launched.

    Those who know me well can attest that I love cats. Lots. They can turn me into piles of cooing goo faster than chocolate ... and most everyone who is a regular around here knows how much I like chocolate.

    That makes this saga both heartbreaking and uplifting, and I'm alternately fighting tears and filled with hope.

    All because of a scrawny cat and two small balls of blue-eyed fluff.

    Three weeks ago, my eldest sister and her husband came for a visit. During their visit, we finally figured out where the redtail hawks were nesting (two nests -- in sight of our house), as well as sighting 6 adult hawks all in the same area. We also saw a cat.

    Our area isn't a good one for loose cats. Not only are there too many hawks crammed into a small area due to recent home building sprees, but there's a pack of wild dogs that lurk near the year-round stream that's in a ravine behind our house.

    This cat was most definitely loose, and had been for a while. A lovely semi-longhaired grey with flecks of orange and cream, she'd obviously seen better days. While her coat was still well-kept, she was painfully thin, and she had a look of desperation in her eyes. When she realized she'd been spotted, she began crying and running away, crying, running. That sort of feline plea that says "I'm desperate for attention, but I'm afraid" repeated ad infinitum.

    We let her flee, and I vowed to keep an eye out for her. I have three wonderful cats of my own, we don't want more cats, we don't need more cats, but if she was in trouble, I wanted to help.

    About a week later, I saw her lurking around again, and she looked even thinner. Being a softie, I slipped a dish of dry cat food under the shelter of a lawn chair in the back yard, and a couple hours later watched her wolf the food down until there was nothing left.

    The next day, when I went to refill the dish, I accidentally cornered her. So, I sat down on the ground, and started talking to her, with her "talking" back. Eventually, she came up to me and my hand that had been laying on the ground, and started aggressively demanding to be pet. (Literally throwing herself at my hand to rub against it.) I was both pleased and appalled. Under that fur was a cat that was likely mere days from starvation, and from her actions, she was NOT a feral cat, but someone's former pet that had been forced to survive in the wild.

    Her plight tore at my heartstrings, and I continued to refill the food dish every time it emptied. (The mini waterfall and tiny pond in our backyard were a sufficient water source that she didn't need to brave the stream and the wild dogs for water.) After speaking with the local SPCA, I dragged one of the cat carriers outside, lined with old towels, and placed it beside the food dish. I made sure she had plenty of food, and was settling down, and planned on slowly moving the food dish inside the carrier after she was used to it.

    I'd hoped to catch her bring her in to the SPCA, where they could quarantine her, test her for contagious kitty diseases, then find a good home for her. I *thought* I had plenty of time. I was wrong.

    A week ago yesterday, when I went out to refill the food dish, I noticed my "granny" cat was intently staring off to one side out the screen door that I'd just walked through. A noise from that same direction showed me "my" stray ... with two small orange kittens climbing over her ... nestled up against the house, surrounded by extremely dense landscaping plants.

    Another call to the SPCA, and they recommend renting live traps, as a mother cat of unknown origins protecting her young can be dangerous. Unfortunately, I couldn't tell if the kittens had been weaned yet, so live trapping was REALLY not a good idea unless I could catch the kittens by hand immediately after mom was trapped. I didn't want starving kittens on my conscience.

    Last Friday, I managed to get mama lured into the cat carrier, and managed to get one kitten in there too. A half an hour later, I *still* did not have the other kitten, and there was NO way I was getting to it through those plants without tearing up the landscaping, and there was no guarantee I could catch it even then.

    Regretfully, I let the mama free, and the kitten. I was petrified that she'd be frightened enough that she'd take the kittens and head for the hills, but she kept attention-sharking around the carrier and I, soaking up attention until I had to leave for a lunch meeting with friends.

    The next day (last Saturday) she was gone. No sign of her, no sign of the kittens. I was devastated, and blaming myself for mishandling the situation the day before.

    I kept an eye on the food dish, just in case, and refilled it when it emptied -- until I found a huge crow eating out of it.

    The dish was moved to right against the house, as I continued to hope that she'd not turn down a free food source. I finally removed the dish a couple days ago, after the food volume hadn't moved in over a day.

    Yesterday, we had a repairman out to work on our barbecue grill (one of the valves was leaking), and I went out to do some work on the pond, and the water plants I was trying to grow there, while he clunked and banged around.

    Out of the corner of my eye, I saw orange. Peeking out of the undergrowth of those same dratted plants that foiled my plans the week before were the two little ginger tiger kittens, watching me with huge blue eyes. They started crying, then ducked back into the plant growth when I got near.

    I brought out some water (the pond sides were steep enough to be a danger to small kittens) and some dried cat food, then wandered back inside to get a little bit of dry food with water dribbled on it, thinking it'd be easier on little kittens *if* they were even weaned. When I came back out with the moistened food, the braver kitten (the darker orange of the two) was already eating and drinking.

    There was no sign of mama anywhere, and from the way those kittens tore into the food, there may not have been any mama for several days. She had either fallen victim to illness or a predator ... or simply weaned the kittens and took off without them. I'm not sure if I'll ever know, and part of me will continue to mourn that she lost a chance at being cared for and adopted into a loving home. I'm a big softie that way.

    However, about 3 hours later, after sitting on the ground with a book near the food, cat carrier sitting beside me, the braver of the two kittens was purring up a storm and using me as a human jungle gym. The shyer one had been crying for it's sibling, and finally moved a few steps out of the plant growth, and into my hands.

    It turned out to be too late to get them to the SPCA yesterday, but it was a roomy carrier (used to fly one of my cats from VA to San Diego 3 years ago), and I quarantined off the laundry room to keep the other cats out, and slipped food and drink into the carrier with the kittens. By the end of the evening, I had both kittens purring, showing some hope that they were not yet settled into feral mode, and there was hope that they'd be adoptable as pets. (Making sure to clean my hands with antibacterial soap after each handling -- soap which, of course, I am allergic to, but better that than risk one of "my girls" catching something nasty.)

    Today, I drove them to the SPCA. Driving with two adorable, crying, kittens is rough for someone as soft-hearted as I, but finally we got there, got the paperwork done, and I left them (and a donation) in good hands.

    Then, of course, being a ranger in a past life, I managed to get myself turned around and added a few extra miles onto my trip as I took the accidental scenic route to the ocean and back again before I found my way home!

    I've got a horribly busy afternoon lined up now due to trying to catch up on trivial updates before I lock the site to updates and finally stop double-entering information in two spots, but I think I'll take a break to cuddle with my girls for a bit first ...

  • #2
    Don't know what to say, being a Cat-lover myself, I find myself crying atm.

    You did the right thing. Saving the two kittens far out weighs losing all 3. Although, I do hope that Momma is safe and sound wherever that may be.


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    • #3
      I am a cat lover and dog lover heck any animal is near to me.

      We currently have 4 cats and 3 dogs (no children).

      I have a doormat out front that says "There is always room for one more" and has pictures of kitties on it. That is the Wolfden household.

      Big huggles to you and play with them kitties you have it washes away all the bad and stress of the world.

      Woodeckt WolfdenGlade Warden of the 65th Circle & 36AA -
      Follower of Karana & Protector of all Living Creatures.Captain Serving Trampers Trade
      The Wolfden Clan




      • #4
        Ian and Frannie send lots of purrs, head butting, and licks with those itchy scratchy tender tongues they have. Both of them were strays, Ian sounds very much like your momma cat (only he is a boy cat) and was an abandoned house cat who spent a snowy winter outdoors before being lured to a cage (he filled out a lot once he adopted me). Frannie got tossed out of a car window with her sister and thankfully the culprits were caught in the act. They and their people are happy that folks like you are around and do such great deeds.

        Momma cat knew what she was doing when she came to your yard.

        And thanks for cheering me up a bit (even though my eyes are a little misty). The things going on in the world are wearing my optimism down, so it is a big relief to hear when someone makes a difference. Thanks!
        Distracted Druid Storm Warden of JinXed on Vazaelle

        (see that Moderator tag - well that is for the Vazaelle marketplace, my posts and opinions should not be considered as anything but my own and not reflect poorly on the folks doing all the hard stuff here. )

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        • #5
          A couple of years ago, we had a stray in our area. I named her "Crystal", because of the clarity in her eyes. A gorgeous longhair, who kept her coat immaculate... how, I'll never know.

          She became "our stray"... anyone who has cats knows what that means. They're not your cat per se, but they do eat your food. Then, we noticed she was pregnant. Her status immediately got bumped up from our stray to our cat as we brought her inside. She stayed with us long enough that she had her kittens... in an old appliance cabinet in our basement. She was about five feet above ground level, in a section where her body provided ample barrier with the glass doors. She couldn't have been more on display if she had tried.

          Oh, but did she look *proud*. Four little kittens, all of them medium hairs. Three grey/white mottles, and one orange and white. Now, I know not to try to get too close to kittens, lest mama move them if she thinks you're doing something to them, but something about her body language said "go ahead, I trust you." So I petted one, while it was still blind. Crystal, I swear to you, purred even harder. This was clearly what she wanted. So, after a day of doing that, I did something that, to me at least, is unprecedented.

          I picked one up and held it.

          Have you ever held a still-blind kitten? Small enough to get lost in a single hand, sniffing *everything*, with that eyes shut tight look of bliss on its face? I must have spent a half hour gently petting that little adorable powderpuff. And then, I put that one in, and traded for a sibling. All the while, Crystal was looking prouder and prouder. She had gotten praise for her young, and it pleased her to no end.

          In the end, after the littens were weaned, we wound up finding a good home for Crystal (she was too beligerent to bunk with our cats), and one of the kittens (who we've heard is a holy terror... unlike her siblings, so we think it's environment). The other three, we kept. In one moment of decision, we went from four to seven cats. Oh, but it was so worth it. To see the the three of them growing up together, learning from each other, and being able to track their entire lives is a joy beyond compare.

          Kenji, the gentle giant, is the largest and darkest of the three. He has very little white in his fur (all of it concentrated around his muzzle), and his grey is very dark. He's very shy... he won;t even let us pet him most of the time, and he's never been hurt. But when he *does* want love, he's very demonstartive.

          Mari, the girl kitty, is the smallest. She's the smallest of ALL of our cats. She's fully grown, and she looks like most young cats. Her fur is a nice blend of grey, white, and a hint of orange. She's silly to put it mildly, and you only need to look in her direction to send her rolling all over and rubbing against everything.

          Taro, the orange and white one (we call it "creamsicle markings"), is the most outspoken. He's the only one vocal on a regular basis, and most days you couldn't shut him up if you tried. He's also the most loving, he'll come to you and rub for hours and hours. He's selfish, though... every toy has to be his toy. It's almost cute.

          Having a lot of cats can be a chore sometimes, but I wouldn't give these three up for anything. They've enriched my life so much, I can't imagine a day without them.
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          • #6
            Oh, that was a great story. I do hope that somehow that Momma cat is ok, or shows up again for some Denmom TLC.

            I love my Mr. Minnit. He is such an attebtion-hog, but I don't know what I will ever do when his nine lives are up. He always meets me at the door when I come home from work, he rubs up against me and vocalizes his demands for attention regularly (which is a bit much at 1am, but I love him anyways!)
            Master Artisan Maevenniia the Springy Sprocket Stockpiler of the really long name
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            • #7
              Reminds me of my South Alabama days while in college

              Ohhhh. I just KNOW she will be back. And if she isn't, just think that she's found a good home. To think otherwise is too much for we cat-lovers to bear. ::hugz::
              Windydancer Crimsancer
              Luclin Sorceror of the 62nd Season in the Year of Tunare
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              • #8
                Reminds me of my growing up. We always had all sorts of animals about, cats, dogs, and just about any kind of barnyard feathered critter you could imagine. I loved animals back then, and still do today, but unfortunately, I have developed severe allergies to just about anything with furs.

                Perhaps that made your story all the more poignant for me, as I could definitely empathize with what you were experiencing. If my body could tolerate cats, especially, I know I would have a couple, but, unfortunately, breathing has to take priority.

                Give your girls some affection from me.
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                • #9
                  Mama Cat 's OK - and just keep telling yourself that her kittens are better taken care of than they ever could be.

                  My wife and I saw a small black kitten prowling around our place near DC a few years back, by a window where we would leave birdseed so our (indoor) cats would have something to watch. We figured it was a kitten belonged to a neighbor. After a month or so it still seemed awfully small, and we started leaving food out for him. We'd see him wolf it down, but he wouldn't let us get anywhere near him. After we saw that he "orbited" between just two hiding places - a tree, and the bushes by the window - we decided that he was a feral cat and started contacting some volunteer groups to figure out what to do.

                  After a week of consultations, we decided that we would try to trap him, and got one of the "have-a-heart" traps liberally baited with tuna (much to the displeasure of our elderly orange tom, who thought that all tuna in the house was by rights his). First night we got a possum (oh well). Nothing the next few nights, and then, about a week into it - the night after Hurricane Floyd went through and it was still raining, well, cats and dogs, sucess! I checked first thing in the morning to find one incredibly wet, angry, scared black cat in the cage.

                  My wife took it to the vet while I headed off to work. He wasn't quite four pounds, and the vet estimated that he was 6 months old. Definitely feral, but the different groups said that he was young enough to be domesticated, so we decided to give it a try, quarantining him first in a large cage in a separate room then the room itself when he was comfortable around us.

                  We probably let him out of the room too soon, because we didn't see him for almost a week after we decided it was ok to let him into the "general population." But he eventually decided that we were ok, and graced us with his presence. Always wanting to pla. He's grown into a lithe 16 pounder, and judging by his still-oversized paws he'd probably be a 18 or 20 pounder if he'd been able to eat right those first few months. Even now, though, he's still extremely skittish - but he doesn't have the foodbowl hangups that our oldest cat has (who was abused in the sense that he had had an owner who would literally forget to feed him for days on end).

                  Buck up - ya done a good thing, DenMom
                  Garshok
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                  • #10
                    *bawls* This is the reason I went to the humane soc. to get my kitten.

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                    • #11
                      5 years ago we lost both our furbabies, the first to cancer at 13 years, the other to fatty liver sydrome 7 months later at 7 years. We chose to collect new kittens from the SPCA, but I tell ya, picking just ONE from all those kitties is SO HARD.

                      Both our kittens were dumped in parks, the first one at a month of age, and he's still skittish even though he's had 5 full years of nothing but non-stop lovin. The other was dumped at a week, the 3 kitties still had their eyes closed How could anyone do that? He, however, thinks the world revolves around him and his "brother". Probably because we treat them that way

                      I am so thankful that some sweet kind person found my babies in those parks, and took them to the SPCA so we could adopt them. Since I can't thank those people personally, please allow me to thank YOU


                      Falcon’s Pride @ The Nameless



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                      • #12
                        Seems like the thing to do would have been to let nature take its course. I'd call the SPCA or the humane society about the pack of wild dogs, though. I'm pretty sure something is done about that. Generally it is frowned upon because they can keep bringing down larger game, including other people's pets and maybe even a small child eventually
                        (pretty unlikely though really)
                        A wild cat might kill a bunny rabbit, a wild dog is a different story.

                        With what Ndarra said,
                        I wonder how many kittens are actually "dumped." I think mother cats probably behave very much like lions do in the wild. If they sense a predator might be near, which as much as you would not like it might include a human to a wild mother cat, they leave the kitten usually in some high grass or something thinking it won't be noticed as much as if it was with them. A well meaning human might then come by thinking it was abandoned or dumped, later mommy cat comes by when she thinks it is safe and no kitten. They also would not have the kittens with them while hunting if they were that young, mommy would be off killing a mouse or chipmunk then bring it back.
                        This sounds even more likely if they still had their eyes closed. To a concerned human, 20 minutes can seem like a very long time


                        Aandaie 56 Druid's Magelo
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                        • #13
                          wonderful story DenMa! Ya did the right thing and I agree that the momma was welcomed into another's home

                          Being a cat lover myself and even more-so when I got married, my wife and I currently have 11 cats total (only had one before I got married). Some were adopted, some rescued, some given up by former owners who for certain reasons couldn't keep'em and some born to us. And now, we're expecting our first born in the next couple of months....did I mentioned we're all in a two bedroom apartment! Call me crazy but we're happy and so are our wonderful little furrlings.

                          .....now this story will really get ya.......
                          We rescued a "kitten" after almost hitting it leaving for my wife's birthday outing Sept 13 last year. Its unnerving to see a little ball of orange and white fur fly in front of you as you lay on the brakes, with you heart pounding and hoping you didn't hit it. My wife the first to get out of the vehicle. She looks around the truck frantically praying not to see the worst, then she sees some foliage rustle in a near-by area. I slowly release my grip on the steering wheel and park the truck to get out and help her. She spots the kitten and she approaches it as it slowly backs away. She backs up and decides to approach from the other side and as I try to reach for it it backs into her hands. Just then we see another rustling as we see a larger cat close to the previous one and we immediately think "the mother". I then try to get it but it escaped into heavy brush and into the night.
                          .....if that wasn't enough......
                          13 years earlier, my wife had just turned 13 (funny that # keeps turning up) in Ontario, Canada...I say that because she's with me in AL now. Her father was being harassed by an orange and white cat in his garage behind their house. He brings the cat to my wife and tells her to take care of it. Well she kept him and named him Curious George, George for short. He turned out to be a wonderful friend to a growing teenager and a great companion for many years. We got married 3 years ago and had to leave George behind on their 127 acre farm. Well March of last year George at the age of about 20 years old had to be put down because he only had one tooth left and a massive growth in his mouth that the vet said because his age was inoperable. My wife was unable to say good-bye and cried for days. Well six months later was when we nearly hit the kitten I referred to earlier. When we brought him in on her birthday....13 years after getting the first George, we find George again. And when I say again, I mean the same cat! This George has too many of the same characteristics as the old George. They both eat cantaloupe and will dig into the garbage for the left over rhine. They both talk only to my wife and young George in less than 3 months with us grew to the same size as old George of about 18 lbs. The only difference in the two is that up in Canada, old George was short haired and young George here in the South has long hair.....leave it to him to get his lives mixed up with the climates.
                          Karduel Thunderwalker
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                          • #14
                            Good news is -- if the kittens were wolfing food, they knew what to do with it and thus were at least partly weaned.

                            You did good, Denmom.

                            ...Zera
                            Baroness Zeralenn Mancdaman - 58 Dark Elven SHD - Smithing (214)
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                            • #15
                              First time I've posted, just wanted to say I got misty eyed on the cat story, & formally thanking you Naomi for this site.

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