Samoa came into our life in April of 2015.  She was rescued by a dear friend from Slavic Village, along with her four kittens, whom we named Ginger Snap, Peanut Butter, S’mores, and Thin Mint.  S’mores is the only girl and her tortie markings look just like her Mom Samoa!  Ginger Snap is an orange tabby, Peanut Butter is white with orange tabby markings, and Thin Mint is solid black. This first photo is from our first meeting with Samoa and her 2-day old kittens. The second photo is just a week later, and her kittens have grown so much that they look like they are smothering her tiny 7-pound body.

In addition to her own litter of four kittens, Samoa cared for four “Cowboy Kittens” (Cassidy, Clementine, Harlee, and Sadie) for a few days until their Mama Mae West was rescued, and could resume her motherly duties. Mae West was particularly elusive, and now resides with a dear friend.

No sooner than Mae West began nursing her four Cowgirls, than a 2-day-old kitten abandoned by his mother was found in the Waterloo neighborhood. We named this kitten, Snickerdoodle, and he was readily welcomed by Samoa into her little family. Snickerdoodle is mostly white with orange tabby markings, and closely resembles Peanut Butter, so he really looked like part of the family!

Finally came the “Charlie Angels” kittens.  Although Jaclyn Fluff, Farrah Fluff Major, and Kate Fluffson did not resemble Samoa or her own babies, they were also lovingly accepted by Samoa and treated as her own. The three black and white tuxedo kittens were rescued from the home of dear friends who have their own little feral family in their garden. By rescuing the tuxie girls, the hope was to give them safe and loving indoor homes, so they were rescued as young kittens close to weaning so they would be easier to socialize.

Samoa was a good Mom (and surrogate Mom) to a total of 12 kittens … patient with her kittens’ antics, and training her babies how to be Good Cats.

While confined to the “back kitten room” (back bedroom), Samoa gradually became comfortable with Sue and would allow Sue to pet her on rare occasions. Samoa would rub against Sue’s legs and was pleased to accept treats. However, Samoa was still easily startled and would hiss loudly when Sue or David moved too quickly or without advance notice.

The orange marking over her left eye made Samoa appear as if she was always raising her left eyebrow at us, as if to ask “What now?”

Over time, after Samoa raised her babies and they started to get adopted, we let her into Gen Pop (gave her full run of the house) with The Furry Bambinos.  Samoa was still a foster with us, and would hide when we needed to take her to adoption events.  Finally, David stated the obvious as we rode to the third consecutive adoption event without Samoa because we could not catch her.  “We may have just adopted our eighth Bambino.”  Shortly thereafter, we discussed it over dinner and concluded that she was happy here with us.  “Let’s just adopt her.”  And that’s how Samoa officially became a Furry Bambino, in early 2016.

Samoa (aka “Shmo”) fit in with The Furry Bambinos very easily.  She seemed content to be the low girl on the totem pole of the cat hierarchy.  She stood in the background and didn’t seem to care if she was the last one to be fed treats.  She never started fights, and always used the litter boxes.   She regularly helped the other Bambinos on “Bird Patrol” and “Squirrel Patrol” from her favorite position in one of the “tubes” of the cat furniture.

She also liked to explore.  A few times a week we could guarantee hearing a loud “thump” coming from the basement.  It was usually Samoa landing on the washing machine after jumping down from exploring the crawl space under the family room. She would emerge with her whiskers covered in cobwebs, then dash off upstairs.

For a long time, she would only eat breakfast by poking her head out from the chair covers in the dining room.

But over time, Samoa became more comfortable and would eat out in the open.  During our morning feeding routines, she began to occasionally brush up against David’s legs, and he got so he could stroke Samoa across her head and back after giving her a food dish.

The rest of the time, Samoa usually kept her distance from us.  If we came within more than 24 inches of her, she would abruptly dash off to another part of the house.  She would sniff a hand extended to her, but we had to move slowly, or else risk a loud snake-like hiss of fear before she dashed off. There were a few rare occasions that Samoa would snuggle with Sue on the sofa.

Samoa made friends with Panda Bear, our friendly tuxedo cat.  All the cats in the house, and especially our fosters and former fosters, love Panda Bear.  Samoa would walk beside him, brush up against him repeatedly, sleep beside him in the front window or on Sue’s legs on the sofa, and eat next to him.

In Samoa’s last nights with us, we had her sequestered to a large cage in our family room so we could closely monitor her and care for her.  Panda Bear walked into her cage, and even in her weakened state Samoa reached her head over to brush against him.

Samoa also had become a play friend for little Farrah Fluff (another new Furry Bambino, c. 2016).  Samoa and Fluff would chase each other the length of the house, back and forth, chomp on each other and bunny kick each other’s heads, and then dash off with wild abandon.  They both seemed to enjoy the play time.

On Sunday evening, the night before Samoa passed, Farrah Fluff reached a paw into Samoa’s cage to tap (maybe pet?) Samoa on the head, and then came around from another angle to tap her friend on the side.  Fluff was obviously checking in with her friend to see how she was doing.

We are so happy we chose to adopt Samoa.  We were honored to have been Samoa’s guardians for the relatively short time she was with us. We did our best to keep her well fed, safe, and happy despite her efforts to avoid us.

We wish we had known earlier that she was ill.  Cats have a way of hiding their illnesses until it’s too late to save them.  It’s so frustrating to know we might have done more for her.  We had her at the veterinarian on Saturday, and by late Monday afternoon she was gone. Sue has the lyrics of the Hall and Oates song “She’s Gone” running on a loop in her head.

It’s amazing that such a little cat could leave such a big hole in our hearts.  We hope that Samoa will be waiting for us at the Rainbow Bridge. When we get too close, she will probably dash off to hide.  So long as we see her there, that’s all that matters.

Until we meet again, Sweet Samoa.  We love you!

Today is a melancholy anniversary. Mohawk, One Who Came Before, was adopted 22 years ago this evening. It is also the 11th anniversary of the date Mohawk left us to go to The Rainbow Bridge. Today, I wanted to remember and share with you about Mohawk and his cuddling.

Mohawk really liked to be close to me. He would snuggle on top of me while I was asleep.

He would snuggle next to me while I napped on the couch.

But his specialty in cuddling was jumping on my lap, then pawing at my shirt to indicate that it was time for him to climb inside my clothes with me. He would usually hang out on my lap for about 20 minutes, making me look like I was about 7 months pregnant. Then he would slither out and go about his business.

Several of The Furry Bambinos like to do their best Mohawk cuddle homages.

Ms. Floofs (Caramel) likes to sleep next to us on the bed. She also really likes to nap on top of me while I am on the sofa.

Panda Bear cuddles by telling me to lie down if I am still upright. Panda Bear’s bleat sounds very much like Mohawk’s bleat did. Then Panda Bear will purr loudly while kneading the blankets on top of my tummy, spinning slowing in a circle, then returning to face me. His rhythmic purring frequently lulls me to sleep.

This photo shows the maximum number of Bambinos photographed while cuddling. That’s Panda Bear and Cookie on Gizzy Quilts on the back of the sofa, and Sunny and Sky on my legs.

Recently, even Meerkat has become a cuddler. She has always been more reserved than her sibling Panda Bear, for which we love and respect her. However, this winter has really brought out Meerkat’s desire to snuggle. She will sometimes climb on top of me and sleep there for hours.

The best cuddle photo we have of Meerkat is this one. Padre and Meerkat are our resident Love Cats. That’s Padre with his protective arm around her.

Thanks for reading today. When one of our fur babies is at The Rainbow Bridge waiting for us, remembering their time with us is important.

Namaste.

He is One Who Came Before.

You might even call him The Original Furry Bambino.

Today is the Anniversary (#21) of his Gotcha Day, back in 1991. This photo was taken sometime in 1991, which would have been soon after he came to live with me.

Today is also the Anniversary (#10) of the Day Mohawk left us for The Rainbow Bridge.

One date, that is both a happy and a sad reminder of Mohawk’s Magical 11 Years with us.

When we adopted Mohawk from my friend Lynn, she mentioned that “Mohawk likes bread”. She said it almost as an afterthought. What she really meant was:

No bread or pastry will be safe in your home from Mohawk.

When I first understood this translation, I was bringing groceries inside, soon after adopting Mohawk. Before we finished unloading the car, Mohawk had already sniffed out the grocery bag with the bread in it, chewed a hole through the plastic bread bag, and was busy nomming on the bread.

Another time, I learned that Mohawk also had a taste for fancy Greek pastries. There is an annual Greek Festival held at a local Greek Orthodox church, and we make a point of visiting their bakery for baklava, spanakopita, and other delicious pastries. We brought the pastries home to our apartment in the white cardboard bakery box, and left it closed up on the kitchen counter overnight. Big mistake! The next morning, the box was on the kitchen floor, and the pastries were strewn about and nommed upon.

For dinner tonight, we had Kraft Macaroni & Cheese, one of Mohawk’s all-time favorite people foods.

Well, not the noodles so much, but the yummy cheese sauce! It was tradition to give Mohawk our bowls for clean-up. The hard part was convincing Mohawk to wait until we were done eating before starting to clean up. In this photo, you can even see Mohawk’s stripe! It grew out by the time he was one year old. (Please ignore the hideous 80’s style glasses. Admit it, you wore them that big too.)

Sunny, Sky, and Padre share Mohawk’s love of cheddar cheese.

Mohawk enjoyed Cheetos, too. (Great, now I’m craving Cheetos.)

We miss you, Mo. Love you always.

The first night we trapped 7 cats on Sunday May 15. They had surgery on Monday, May 16, and recovered overnight in my friend Diane’s Mom’s garage. That night, Monday, May 16, we trapped 5 more cats. Their surgery was on Tuesday, May 17. The last three cats were trapped on Tuesday night / Wednesday morning.

To make things “less complicated”, Diane’s Mom wanted to trap all the cats before releasing any of them so we wouldn’t have to figure out who was who. The problem with this plan was that the feral cats were returned after surgery in cat carriers, with the idea of being released very soon, not in a day or two. So Diane’s Mom cleaned the cat carriers and transferred the cats from a used carrier to a clean one.

One of the feral cats got loose in the garage during one of the transfers.

On Wednesday night, instead of releasing the first 12 cats back into their home territory, we had 11. Believe me, we tried to convince the missing cat to join his brethren for the Big Return. We searched all over the garage (which I have to say, is the CLEANEST garage I have ever seen), but there was no sign of him. So I suggested that he *might* be inside Diane’s sister’s car which was parked in the garage.

Sure enough, there he was, sitting on the engine block. He was so startled to see us, and we were so startled to see him, that we all froze for an instant. Before I could scruff him, he disappeared down into the engine. I donned a pair of gardening gloves, and reached in, trying to scruff the guy. He was so bony and at a weird angle, that all I could feel was his shoulder blades.

And then I felt his teeth, when he turned around and bit me.

OK then. Plan Q: we would set a trap for him and hope he would be hungry enough to get trapped again so we could return him back home. We waited around awhile, but he was not budging from the innards of the car.

We loaded up the other 11 cats in our cars and headed back to their home. Of course, it was cold, windy, and it started raining as soon as we stepped out of the cars with the cats. We carried the cats into the back yard (squish squish squish through the muddy grass), and set the carriers down on the patio.

We unlatched the doors, and swung them wide open.

Free at last!

Free at last!

All but one of the cats shot out and took off headed back to safety of their thicket of shrubs. David carried that carrier closer to the thicket and then the cat sped out and joined his buds. Diane’s Mom returned the other four kittehs to their home a few days later, including Engine Kitty, who did get trapped overnight inside the garage.

Despite all the logistics, the cold, the rain, the dark, and the exhaustion, it felt so good to know that these cats will not be reproducing. They will be healthier, and will no longer contribute to the population of cats in the area.

After much discussion regarding logistics, we borrowed eight humane traps from the Cleveland APL, and returned the following Sunday evening at 6:00 with more Stinky Goodness. It was raining, windy, and cold. The newspapers we used to line the traps kept getting blown around, and some of the traps were so sensitive that just picking them up would trigger them to close. Not optimal trapping conditions, to say the least. We set out the traps, and returned to our cars to wait. Nothing. So we left to grab dinner, dejected that we would catch any cats that night.

We returned an hour later to find four cats in traps! Woo-hoo!

We covered each trap with a towel, and instantly the cat inside quieted down. We transferred the trapped cats to our cars to keep warm and dry. After moving the remaining traps to different locations, we were able to trap three more cats before it got too dark to see what we were doing. We were pleased to have caught seven feral cats, but we counted at least five more, including a few clever ones who managed to eat the food without stepping on the trigger.

We brought the cats in the traps back to Diane’s Mom’s house, where we set them in the garage overnight.

Here are photos of the cats we trapped that night. Kitteh #1 is a long-haired orange and white male (I think). Orange cats are usually male.

Kitteh #2 looked to be a Siamese flame point mix.

Kitteh #3 is an orange tabby with some white on his chest.

Kitteh #4 is a long-haired brown tabby with white bib.

Kitteh #5 is a long-hair dilute calico female.

Kitteh #6 is a black, gold, and white calico female. Do you see two other sets of glowing eyes in this photo?

Kitteh #7 is a different orange tabby male.

We returned Monday night, May 16 (Panda Bear and Meerkat’s birthday) with five more traps, and with a nifty Drop Trap as well. Again, it was cold, raining, and windy, making trapping conditions less than optimal. The ground was saturated after weeks of rain, so there was a lot of squish squish squish through muddy grass.

I now have a new definition for Insanity: Standing in the bushes, in the dark, in the rain, holding the pull cord to the Drop Trap, and trying to trap a solid black cat! We gave up trying to trap the black cat in the dark, but did manage to trap five others. But we saw at least three more cats, including “Blackie”, the solid black cat with a noticeable limp.

Diane’s Mom and her friend were able to catch the last (we hope) three cats, and all have been spayed or neutered, vaccinated, and ear-tipped. Ear tipping is the universal symbol that a feral cat has been neutered and vaccinated. It is done while the cat is under anesthesia. It is done so that if they get trapped again, they won’t go in for surgery because the ear tip will indicate that they have already been neutered and vaccinated.

We were worried that Blackie might be euthanized due to his limp, but the APL did not note anything wrong with the paw. We had implored the APL staff to let Blackie live, since the property is on a quiet dead-end side street. So either Diane’s Mom caught a different black cat (not Blackie with the limp) or Blackie’s limp was not due to a fracture. We’ll never really know.

Next, releasing feral cats back in their home territory!

Now, we can also say that we have experience trapping a colony of feral cats.

It all started when my friend and co-worker Diane (name changed to protect the innocent) told me that her Mom was visiting a friend, and that there were “about six or eight friendly kittens” living outside the friend’s house. Diane’s Mom thought the kittens might be 2 to 3 months old. So Diane told her mom about me and PAWS.  I checked with PAWS if it was OK for me to “harvest the kittens” (as we say), and was given the OK and eight appointments for spay/neuter at the Cleveland APL.

On a warm sunny afternoon after work, Diane and I went over to the location to assess the situation. We were armed with the smelliest Stinky Goodness they make (Flaked Fish and Shrimp Feast, in case you were wondering), plates, water, dishes, surrender forms, and cat carriers. We were prepared to collect “friendly kittens” should they present themselves for collecting. We set up on the patio, and as Diane described it, “an army of cats” began appearing from the bushes once we opened the cans of Stinky Goodness.

It’s hard to estimate the age of a cat, especially when you can’t get close enough to hold and examine him or her. By my best guess, the youngest of the felines were in the 10-month age range. And all were skittish and afraid of us – feral. We counted at least eleven – possibly more – adult feral cats.

The difference between a stray cat and a feral cat is how they feel about humans. Stray cats are homeless cats who would make good companion cats for people. They like and trust people, and will let you pet them if you encounter them outside. Feral cats are not homeless – their home is the Great Outdoors, however inclement the weather or climate may be. However, they have not been socialized to trust people, and are therefore afraid of humans.

If a kitten is not socialized with lots of human contact early in life, they will grow up feral. There is debate as to what the critical age is, but from my experience, I would put it at 3 months. Which is not to say that an older feral kitten or cat cannot learn to trust people, but it will take MUCH MUCH longer, and A LOT of work. For more information about feral cats, please see Alley Cat Allies web site.

So, our hopes of harvesting young trusting kittens were scrapped – replaced by a TNR situation to get this cat population under control. It’s Kitten Season, after all, and by the looks of a few of the cats, some might already be pregnant. We needed to move fast to trap these cats before they started reproducing!

Tune in next time to find out if we were able to catch any of the feral cats!

Clyde was a Big ManCat.

BIG.

He was sweet with a gentle soul.

Forever Loved.

Forever Missed.

Until we meet again …

Twenty years ago tonight, David and I visited a friend to meet Mohawk. We ended up leaving with Mohawk that night, and took him home to my apartment. It is a great story, and you can read it here.

In addition, today is a sad anniversary, as it is the day in 2002 that Mohawk left us for the Rainbow Bridge.

Although I had had kitties in my life before (Kiki and Puddy), Mohawk was the first cat for whom I was truly responsible. Kiki and Puddy were family pets, and while I loved them both very much, Mohawk was the first cat I lived with as an adult. Adopting Mohawk was the signal to my parents that I was all grown up, and that I wouldn’t be moving back into their home. Puddy, the family cat, was big, orange, and intolerant of other felines.

Each of The Furry Bambinos reminds me of Mohawk in his or her own way. Meerkat is thin and svelte, the daintiest of the Bambinos. Mohawk was also slight of build, weighing just 10 pounds at his heaviest. In contrast, Clyde, Mohawk’s adoptive brother, weighed 19 pounds at one point.

Cookie is our “Cat Ambassador”. She is not afraid of visitors, and especially enjoys assisting furnace repair personnel. Mohawk enjoyed helping plumbers who visited our apartment.

Caramel is sweet and cuddly. Mohawk’s specialty was cuddling. He liked to climb inside my clothes, while I was wearing them.

Padre, in his finicky dining habits reminds us of how Mohawk used to have to be “invited” to join us for meals. Sometimes we would pick up the basket in which Mohawk was reclining, and carry Mohawk, basket and all, to the kitchen for meals. Similarly, we often have to hunt Padre down at breakfast time, and bring his food dish to him.

If you live with cats, you know all about regurgitation. Padre often gets sick and vomits his dry food. We are trying to switch dry foods in hopes that this alleviates this problem.

You know how they say that there are about 60 different words for snow in the Inuit language? Well, we had about 60 different words to describe “Mohawk’s special skill”. In fact, he earned the title “King of Horking” for his creative works of art. Mohawk specialized in using gravity to add to his performance art. So far, none of The Furry Bambinos comes anywhere close to matching Mohawk’s skills. Thank Bast!

Panda Bear’s “meow” reminds us of Mohawk’s voice. Mohawk’s voice sounded more like a bleat than a true meow. It often sounded like he was complaining, but it was really just the way he spoke. Panda Bear makes a very similar sound, and we are always reminded of Mohawk whenever Panda Bear talks to us. Panda Bear also likes to nap on top of us, like Mohawk used to do.

Mohawk also knew his name and would do a happy dance when we said “Mohawk!” in a happy tone. Mohawk would jump onto a bookcase and wait for his “snuggle bath”. Panda Bear knows his name as well as his nickname, PB. Panda Bear will come to us when we say his name in a happy tone of voice, and we reward him with snuggles.

Mohawk, we miss you, and love you always.

* * *

<RANT STARTS HERE>

As regular readers of the blog know, my husband and I (and The Bambinos) volunteer with a local animal rescue group. Our group is non-profit, dependent upon fundraisers and donations to fund “our rescue group’s activities”. Our time is not compensated. On average, we spend about two hours a day caring for our fosters. Then there are adoption events to attend, screenings I do to confirm that a potential adopter is appropriate for the pet, meds we administer, trips to and from veterinarians for medical care for the fosters, fundraising events, etc.

I would like to be clear, I am not complaining. I love getting to care for kitties while they are waiting for their forever homes. Sometimes it is stressful when the babies are sick, or won’t eat, but I love the animals. I treat them and love them like I do The Furry Bambinos.

* * *

Our rescue group’s activities are centered around the care of the animals (cats, kittens, dogs, and puppies) that we foster in our own homes. Our rescue group does not have a shelter, so space is limited by the number of animals our foster homes can safely hold. Unfortunately, our rescue group has to turn away many animals because our foster homes are full. (For example, my husband and I have six foster kittens in a 9′ by 10′ bedroom right now. Down from seven foster kittens, as one was adopted a few weeks ago.)

Our rescue group’s activities include feeding the animals in our care – and if you ever have had kittens, you know kittens grow quickly, and eat A LOT. We have coined the term “Hoover and Oreck Phase” to describe kittens between the ages of 4 months to a year. (Hoover and Oreck are brands of carpet vacuum cleaners.)

Imagine feeding six hungry kittens. They go through a lot of canned and dry food. I am a regular at PetSmart, which is where our rescue group is fortunate enough to have cage space in their adoption center. In addition, I can make tax exempt purchases at PetSmart for the pet food because our group is classified as a non-profit, and because we have filed the appropriate paperwork at a few local PetSmart stores.  The way our rescue group works is that I purchase the food, and then turn in the receipts for reimbursement.

So I make a point of patronizing PetSmart, for my own purchases, in addition to those I make for the animal rescue group. Say what you want about big box stores, and wanting to support local stores. I support local stores too. But I shop at PetSmart first, and then if they don’t have something I need, then I look elsewhere.

* * *

Our rescue group’s activities also include getting all animals spayed or neutered before being adopted. NO EXCEPTIONS. We do not want to contribute to the problem of adorable, lovable, adoptable animals for whom there are no homes.

Unfortunately, there is a bias toward people wanting to adopt YOUNG AND CUTE rather than OLDER AND BIGGER. So that is why we, and many other rescue groups, spay or neuter kittens once they hit 2 pounds. For a healthy kitten, that occurs at about 2 months of age. I am often asked “Why do you spay/neuter them so young?” Then I have to explain the whole YOUNG AND CUTE dilemma.

In the past, our rescue group would adopt out prior to being spayed or neutered, and provide a voucher for free spay/neuter.  People weren’t using the vouchers.  So our rescue stopped that practice, and now requires that all animals are spayed or neutered prior to adoption.

I just want to cry sometimes, because there are plenty of adorable 5 month, 6 month, etc. kittens who need homes. For full-grown cats, the situation is even worse. But people have asked me at adoption events (I kid you not) “Don’t you have any SMALLER ones?” And they are referring to 6 month old kittens as TOO BIG.

* * *

Our rescue group’s activities include providing all animals with age appropriate vaccinations prior to adoption.   Plus, they receive treatment for fleas, worms, and any other medical care they need while in our care.  All of these veterinary needs are not free.  This is where most of our rescue group’s expenses are.  If you have ever taken a pet to a veterinarian, you know that charges can add up quickly, even for routine well-visit care.

* * *

Our rescue group’s activities also include TNR – Trap, Neuter, Return.  This is for feral cats and kittens. Personally, I think the term feral has been overused – when we mean “feral”, we mean “absolutely not adoptable, too wild, and too unhappy to be around humans”.  Our group has received some grant support for these surgeries.

Presently, my husband and I have two feral kittens who will be returned to their colony.  They were simply past the point of socializing into a house cat.  We got them when they were about 12 weeks old, with the hopes of “socializing”.  From what I understand, kittens need to be held by humans by the time they are about 6 weeks old, or the socialization road is a long uphill battle.

We named one of the ferals “Hidey” because she has spent most of the time in the foster room hiding.  She has “that look” of total abject terror every time we make eye contact with her.  We cannot pet her at all.  She runs away when we get “too near” her, including when we place a food dish in front of her.  She is clearly unhappy here.

* * *

When I was at our rescue group’s annual adoption event in May, I had two sick kittens with me (Niecy and Trish).  Not so much to show for adoption, but to have with me because they were sick and needed constant care.  While I was sitting on the concrete floor of the cat pavilion, and trying to bottle feed one of the kittens, a woman walked up to me and asked some questions – the usual – how old (about 4 weeks), breed (moggie/mutt kitten), adoption fee ($75 for one, $100 for two).  And then:

“What’s so special about THAT kitten that it costs $75?”

I did not answer out loud.  But I thought to myself, “You aren’t special enough for this kitten”.

* * *

Once people know that you volunteer for an animal rescue group, you get asked all sorts of questions.  Like questions about their pet’s health.  I don’t mind commiserating with friends about our pets and their medical concerns.  What I do mind is questions from anyone who thinks that my advice can replace that of a veterinarian.  I always refer people to their own veterinarian.

I and others in the rescue group get all sorts of calls and emails from people who have / know of / found an animal that needs a home.  In addition, I get all kinds of requests from people who need help “rehoming” their pet.  (This is the euphemism used when people want to get rid of their pet.)  Some of the stories are truly heartbreaking.  One person I knew was getting divorced, and had to move herself and her young children in with a family member who is allergic to cats.  Unfortunately, our group was full at the time, and I had to refer her elsewhere.

* * *

So this long preamble brings me to my main point here.

A family we know came across a stray YOUNG AND TINY kitten several months ago. They originally did not want to keep him, but the kids and the parents had fun with him while he was YOUNG AND TINY, so they decided to make him a family pet.  I had originally offered to help with placement through our rescue group, but the family decided to keep him.

Now this kitten is about 6 months old, and needs medical attention, so the family PUT HIM IN THEIR GARAGE because they don’t want him to get fleas in their house. And because he had out of litter box experiences while the family was away for THREE WEEKS.  The kitten was cared for by a neighbor during their absence.

And then the family called us – to ask if there was some way we could get him into our animal rescue foster system. The problem is, our group is full. The waiting list is closed because it is so long. The family was already told this, that there is “no room at the inn”, but called us hoping that we could pull some strings, now that they have decided that they don’t want the kitten any more.

Mind you, this is not a financial issue. Their kids go to private schools, the family vacations in Europe. This is a “we are bored with our previously cute little kitten now that he is getting bigger and needs medical care” issue.

So my husband took a deep breath, and said he would call them back after speaking with me.

My advice was to take the kitten to a vet. This kitten has not been seen by a vet EVER. Needless to say, he has not been neutered. Or gotten any shots. Or given flea treatments, or worming medications.  Or anything else he might need.

My husband called the family back and relayed the advice about taking the kitten to a vet. The family is “considering” taking the kitten to a vet, or to the local cat surrender shelter.

The family asked if they could borrow a cat carrier from us.

My husband advised purchasing an inexpensive cardboard carrier from PetSmart.

* * *

By the way, we are taking OUR CAT TO THE VET THIS AFTERNOON because he had out of litter box episodes all yesterday afternoon.

Because he deserves to be diagnosed and treated when he is sick.

Because we have chosen to make Padre a part of our family.

Forever.

Suffice it to say, Padre is not in the garage.

</RANT ENDS HERE>

Back to your regularly scheduled blog.

When my current kittens Boo and Shadow got really sick during the July 4th weekend, I had to drive 30 miles across town to take them to an emergency clinic that was open.

“We demand to be let out of here!”

At the clinic, Boo and Shadow were given massive amounts of sub-Q (subcutaneous, i.e., under the skin) fluids to help with their dehydration.  Boo was given an injection of chlorpromazine, an antiemetic, since she could not keep anything down. I was given two different liquid meds to take home and give to the girls.

Boo doesn’t feel so good

Shadow doesn’t feel good either

One of the meds was Panacur – a really potent dewormer to get rid of the parasites the little girls had. The regular medicine we use for deworming is Strongid, and it was just not cutting it this season. Panacur is given as one dose for three days – and by the third day, really sick kittens who are refusing to eat have perked up and are doing much, much better.

Empty Dishes!

I was given a pretty full bottle of Panacur, which meant there would be a lot left over since I was only going to use 3 mL total. When you volunteer in animal rescue, funds are tight, and we are careful with everything that costs money. Like meds.

Which brings me to my first drug deal.

Two weeks later, both kittens were healthy, and I had a lot of Panacur left over. I got a call that there were other sick kittens that needed a dewormer, and the decision was made to give Panacur rather than Strongid.

So I agreed to meet another volunteer in an empty parking lot to give her the bottle. I was excited about my first drug deal!  The deal took place after dark, in a seedy part of town, and with the sound of police sirens in the distance.

OK, the deal actually transpired in broad daylight.

And seedy part of town? Well, we were in the parking lot of Saks Fifth Avenue at Beachwood Mall, in one of the most expensive Cleveland suburbs.

As far as police go, there was mall security patrolling the area in their SUV’s.

We were ignored.