I thought I'd leave you with a few signs of spring.
Crocus
Miniature Iris
Ava sleeping in the sun
MC, Tabby, and Swirly (some of our ferals) catching sunbeams
A definite sign of warm weather....bikers.
Showing posts with label ferals. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ferals. Show all posts
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Midterms Week!
It's midterms week here--which means it can be hell for both students and professors. I haven't forgotten any of you--just been up to my eyeballs in students, papers, grades and "stuff on that." That's a saying from my best friend's husband and it's caught on with me. Stuff on that. I'm behind on my blog reading/commenting but will catch up as soon as the last grade is turned in. I promise.
I thought I'd leave you with a few signs of spring.
I thought I'd leave you with a few signs of spring.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
The "Blues Brothers"
(I'm going to be very busy tomorrow, so I thought I'd post this early.)
My husband refers to them as the Blues Brothers since they look so much alike. I'm talking about Buddy and his brother-son-uncle-grandfather-father-cousin-littermate 2B. Yes, we call him 2B as in "To Be or Not To Be."
Buddy was brought to us by our feral girl, Java before she was hit by a car. 2B showed up just about a month ago. We were actually surprised to see him, mistaking him for Buddy for a bit, until we saw them together. We know they are related, because they look so much alike and because they act like recent siblings--ones that have a long association with each other. Surprisingly enough, Buddy who challenges every cat (and dog) that ventures near the front porch, did not challenge 2B other than a minor hissy spit. They also like to intimidate dogs, cats, and humans they don't like out of the front yard.
They were both full males, meaning that they haven't been neutered. Buddy's age has been estimated to be about 5 years old, so we are surmising that 2B is the same age. They are strays and recent ones at that. We know they are strays because they don't act feral. That means they don't hide or run away from us and they allow close contact by humans, like petting. Although in Buddy's case, he has to pet YOU first before he allows himself to be petted. It's just his feline prerogative. On the other hand, 2B allows you to pet him and then thinks about returning the favor.
We had Buddy neutered and vaccinated this week. We opted not to get his ear tipped, in hopes that we can find him his people or a new home. By the way--we aren't holding our breath for either case. 2B will get his soon.
So why do people get cats, make them pets and then dump/abandon or mistreat them? There are as many reasons as there are grains of soils. With the current economic crisis on hand, many people are having a hard time feeding their families in our little town, let alone pets. There aren't any services or food pantries for pets. Even the town pound is having problems.
But the current economic crisis is fairly recent and people have been dumping their dogs and cats for a long time before it hit. I believe the reason why people dump/abandon or mistreat their animals is a combination of reasons. Our society operates on a "disposable mindset." We get rid of, throw away, trash, toss things easily. We've been conditioned to throw out the old and acquire new or do the latest trend. Our society still looks at animals as "property" rather than living souls/beings and that makes it easy to toss them away. Our society also lacks commitment to anything that may be a long-term responsibility. Pets take long-term care and responsibility.
Not every one feels this way or behaves this way. I know many people who work hard at reusing and recycling materials and resources; who take long-term care and responsibility seriously; and who do not toss their pets away or mistreat them. Many of them see pets are as part of their families, vital members of their families. They are the ones who give their time to their communities and are committed to their communities. I'm glad we have caring and committed people.
Many people also mistakenly believe that cats "can survive" or "take care of themselves." They believe that cats can hunt mice and birds and they will do well out in the world. They have to hunt, kill, and eat the equivalent of eight mice per day just to survive. Pet cats often do not survive because they don't have the training, skills, or knowledge of how to survive. This is not information they will gain within a week. Many pet cats will die from exposure, starvation, malnutrition, disease, being hit by cars, savaged by dogs, fights from other ferals, and at the hands of inhumane humans when they are dumped or abandoned.
If you can not keep your cat, find him or her a good home.
Buddy was brought to us by our feral girl, Java before she was hit by a car. 2B showed up just about a month ago. We were actually surprised to see him, mistaking him for Buddy for a bit, until we saw them together. We know they are related, because they look so much alike and because they act like recent siblings--ones that have a long association with each other. Surprisingly enough, Buddy who challenges every cat (and dog) that ventures near the front porch, did not challenge 2B other than a minor hissy spit. They also like to intimidate dogs, cats, and humans they don't like out of the front yard.
2B
Buddy
They were both full males, meaning that they haven't been neutered. Buddy's age has been estimated to be about 5 years old, so we are surmising that 2B is the same age. They are strays and recent ones at that. We know they are strays because they don't act feral. That means they don't hide or run away from us and they allow close contact by humans, like petting. Although in Buddy's case, he has to pet YOU first before he allows himself to be petted. It's just his feline prerogative. On the other hand, 2B allows you to pet him and then thinks about returning the favor.
Buddy eats while 2B looks on
We had Buddy neutered and vaccinated this week. We opted not to get his ear tipped, in hopes that we can find him his people or a new home. By the way--we aren't holding our breath for either case. 2B will get his soon.
So why do people get cats, make them pets and then dump/abandon or mistreat them? There are as many reasons as there are grains of soils. With the current economic crisis on hand, many people are having a hard time feeding their families in our little town, let alone pets. There aren't any services or food pantries for pets. Even the town pound is having problems.
But the current economic crisis is fairly recent and people have been dumping their dogs and cats for a long time before it hit. I believe the reason why people dump/abandon or mistreat their animals is a combination of reasons. Our society operates on a "disposable mindset." We get rid of, throw away, trash, toss things easily. We've been conditioned to throw out the old and acquire new or do the latest trend. Our society still looks at animals as "property" rather than living souls/beings and that makes it easy to toss them away. Our society also lacks commitment to anything that may be a long-term responsibility. Pets take long-term care and responsibility.
Not every one feels this way or behaves this way. I know many people who work hard at reusing and recycling materials and resources; who take long-term care and responsibility seriously; and who do not toss their pets away or mistreat them. Many of them see pets are as part of their families, vital members of their families. They are the ones who give their time to their communities and are committed to their communities. I'm glad we have caring and committed people.
Many people also mistakenly believe that cats "can survive" or "take care of themselves." They believe that cats can hunt mice and birds and they will do well out in the world. They have to hunt, kill, and eat the equivalent of eight mice per day just to survive. Pet cats often do not survive because they don't have the training, skills, or knowledge of how to survive. This is not information they will gain within a week. Many pet cats will die from exposure, starvation, malnutrition, disease, being hit by cars, savaged by dogs, fights from other ferals, and at the hands of inhumane humans when they are dumped or abandoned.
If you can not keep your cat, find him or her a good home.
Lucky Cat
(Buddy)
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Just The Boys
I'm taking a quicky break from grading papers this morning. That's what I've been doing for the past three days--nothing but grading papers.
So this morning, I thought I'd show off some of our "boys." First meet the primary males in our colony. There's MC, the oldest. Then Fiesty, Blue, and Swirly.
Swirly showing off his colors
They are all related to Merlin in one fashion or another. He is the granddaddy to all the above.
MC
Fiesty eating his favorite--canned salmon
Handsome Blue
They are all related to Merlin in one fashion or another. He is the granddaddy to all the above.
Merlin when he first came to live inside
Then we have the "Newbies" who joined the colony over the past year or two. We have Blanco--who incidentally is also related to Merlin. Beamer and WaitAMinute came along a bit later.
Blanco
Beamer
WaitAMinute
Beamer is an orange tabby feral. I think he was someone's pet, turned out or lost, and became feral to survive. Many pet cats that are turned out don't make it. Beamer is one of the lucky ones. He found a pair of cat-crazy people who were willing to manage a colony. WaitAMinute was most likely was born feral. We believe he's Lacey's father because they have the same facial features.
Then we have Buddy and what could be his brother, son, father, uncle, cousin. You remember Buddy from the Halloween Post, dressing in his costume? Well this weekend, what could be his brother/son/ father/uncle/cousin joined us. Looks like a smaller version of Buddy and very friendly. Those two must have been raised together because they haven't fought at all. They share the front porch post and both chase dogs out of the yard. We are having a hard time naming him...so right now he's 2B.
2B
He's hard to photograph
Buddy
He's not happy about sharing his top bunk
Because they are both friendly, I believe them to be strays--not ferals. Stray cats can become feral in order to survive. Stray cats were once someone's pet. Some people abandon their cats, believing they can survive outdoors. As I said before, many abandoned cats do not make it.There are many reasons pet cats become stray cats,and I'll cover that in another post later. Right now, I have papers to finish grading!
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Photo Tag!
I was tagged to play by An Oklahoma Granny to play Photo Tag! Thank you for tagging me! How cool is this? :D
Here's how the game works - The person who is tagged goes to the first photo file on his/her computer and then goes to the tenth photo in that file.
The tagged person posts the picture on his/her blog and tells the story behind it.
The tagged person then tags a few people from the blogs he/she reads.
I have my photos organized by months so when I opened the file, August 2009 appeared first. So I opened that file and realized that I have it broken down into other folders. That's simply because I'm a crazy, OCD-anal retentive person. So I decided to just open the first folder, count to the tenth picture in that folder.
The 10th photo in my first file in my August 2009 folder:
This is a picture I captured of one of our ferals who was killed a few days later. Her name is Java. If you have been following the feral story posts, you know that Java is the first daughter of Frosty and Merlin, sister to our indoor kitty Topaz. We had been working with her, trying to convince her to stay with us, especially with winter approaching. We had set up several cat shelters, hoping that she would make one her home. This is her...Some evenings when the sun is just starting to set and the sky is cloaking itself in night time colors, I can hear her calling to me. I miss her still.
I'm tagging:
Terri at TLSClayDesign
Joan at Teaching isn't for Wimps
Jo-Lynne at Musings of a Housewife
I just realized I need to broaden my reading list!
Here's how the game works - The person who is tagged goes to the first photo file on his/her computer and then goes to the tenth photo in that file.
The tagged person posts the picture on his/her blog and tells the story behind it.
The tagged person then tags a few people from the blogs he/she reads.
I have my photos organized by months so when I opened the file, August 2009 appeared first. So I opened that file and realized that I have it broken down into other folders. That's simply because I'm a crazy, OCD-anal retentive person. So I decided to just open the first folder, count to the tenth picture in that folder.
The 10th photo in my first file in my August 2009 folder:
I'm tagging:
Terri at TLSClayDesign
Joan at Teaching isn't for Wimps
Jo-Lynne at Musings of a Housewife
I just realized I need to broaden my reading list!
Thursday, October 29, 2009
They Come and They Go...
One of the hardest aspects of feral colony management is losing cats. Momma Cat and Pounce took off for her former home and we haven't seen them since. That wasn't so bad because we were used to her coming and going. Pounce was a momma's boy so it just seemed right that he followed her.
The cat that shocked us badly was Tag. Her death is still one of the troubling ones. Tag was definitely Merlin's daughter and she had that bit of Siamese in her that made me think of the Song from "Lady and the Tramp."
"We are Siamese if you please....We are Siamese if you don't please...We come from the called Siam...There are no better cats than we am!"
When my husband caught her for spaying, she bit him several times and badly on his hands. That was before we found that newfangled invention, called a trap. His hands swelled up so much that he needed antibiotics. Strong ones. Tag forgave D later.
The next time we had to catch her it was because she had this lump growing on her left flank. It started off the size of a quarter. Four days later, it was the size of a small egg. This time I volunteered to be the victim--er--the catcher. I figured she and I had developed this bond that allowed me to pet her so it was logical that I be the one to grab and stuff her into the carrier. Right?
Oh I had a good hold on her--scruff and back by the tail. Some how she bit me from my shoulders to my knees. I never saw her move. I found out that white vinegar is a very good antiseptic--just burns to the point of making Saint Francis Assisi cuss left and right. Up and down. And then some more.
Anyway, we take this very feral cat to our beloved vet, Dr. J. Tag is telling us every inch of the way that we will pay for this indignity we have thrust upon her. D just laughs at her threats but I believe this cat will do everything in her power to make good. Her threats send shivers down my spine. We warn Dr. J that this cat is very feral and she's agreeing with us loudly. He opens the carrier and looks at her. Says "C'mere sweetheart--let's have a look at you."
This is where my mouth fell open and smacked the floor. Tag came out willingly to Dr. J, let him examine her, including take her temperature like she was a tame, domesticated, PET cat! D and I looked at each other like we were stupid. Dr. J told us to bring her back in the morning so he could surgically remove this piece of intestine that's protruding. Oh yeah--that should be easy. On the way back home, Tag begins threatening us anew. Yep--she's going to scratch our eyes out and she's going to tell all the other cats to run away, and she will do us some serious damage....yada yada yada. We put her in the bathroom for overnight, took her back early in the morning.
The next afternoon when we went to pick her up, we got the news. It wasn't a piece of intestine protruding: it was multiple abcesses. He put a shunt in to help them drain and he wanted to see her in a week. She was given a mass of antibiotics but we had to give her more during the week. His staff gave us oral antibiotics. I looked at them blankly. Oral drops? This cat? I asked if they had powdered antibiotics. The office manager told us to just open her mouth and squeeze them in. Sure--if I'm wearing chainmail and leather suit--may be! Kathy--one of the technicians--saw we were in trouble and told us to put the drops in tuna fish. That little piece of advice has served us well since.
Anyway, after a week of bringing Sinatra in for Companion Kitty duties, (she wouldn't eat unless we brought him in--good thing he was really agreeable!) Tag had her shunt removed, her staples removed and was back to playing with her family.
The night before she was a victim of hit and run, she stretched up onto the screen on the kitchen door. She was talking to D--reaching for him. He bent down and through the screen, let her touch his face with her paw. Our tough kitty was ever so gentle--she didn't use her claws to touch D's face. It was a very emotional moment.
The next afternoon, she was hit by a car and killed instantly. We buried her in the back yard next to Quinn, my beloved boy of 17 years.
We learned the hard lesson of feral cat management. It still pains us to bury a cat. I cry for days. Being hit by cars isn't the only way we lose them. Sometimes they just leave. Sometimes, disease or illness or infection gets them. Sometimes, we find out too late that we could have done more. Sometimes we know there wasn't any thing else we could have done. Sometimes, we never know. Sometimes, we know our time with them is limited.
The cat that shocked us badly was Tag. Her death is still one of the troubling ones. Tag was definitely Merlin's daughter and she had that bit of Siamese in her that made me think of the Song from "Lady and the Tramp."
"We are Siamese if you please....We are Siamese if you don't please...We come from the called Siam...There are no better cats than we am!"
Ms. Tag with 'tude
When my husband caught her for spaying, she bit him several times and badly on his hands. That was before we found that newfangled invention, called a trap. His hands swelled up so much that he needed antibiotics. Strong ones. Tag forgave D later.
The next time we had to catch her it was because she had this lump growing on her left flank. It started off the size of a quarter. Four days later, it was the size of a small egg. This time I volunteered to be the victim--er--the catcher. I figured she and I had developed this bond that allowed me to pet her so it was logical that I be the one to grab and stuff her into the carrier. Right?
Oh I had a good hold on her--scruff and back by the tail. Some how she bit me from my shoulders to my knees. I never saw her move. I found out that white vinegar is a very good antiseptic--just burns to the point of making Saint Francis Assisi cuss left and right. Up and down. And then some more.
Anyway, we take this very feral cat to our beloved vet, Dr. J. Tag is telling us every inch of the way that we will pay for this indignity we have thrust upon her. D just laughs at her threats but I believe this cat will do everything in her power to make good. Her threats send shivers down my spine. We warn Dr. J that this cat is very feral and she's agreeing with us loudly. He opens the carrier and looks at her. Says "C'mere sweetheart--let's have a look at you."
This is where my mouth fell open and smacked the floor. Tag came out willingly to Dr. J, let him examine her, including take her temperature like she was a tame, domesticated, PET cat! D and I looked at each other like we were stupid. Dr. J told us to bring her back in the morning so he could surgically remove this piece of intestine that's protruding. Oh yeah--that should be easy. On the way back home, Tag begins threatening us anew. Yep--she's going to scratch our eyes out and she's going to tell all the other cats to run away, and she will do us some serious damage....yada yada yada. We put her in the bathroom for overnight, took her back early in the morning.
The next afternoon when we went to pick her up, we got the news. It wasn't a piece of intestine protruding: it was multiple abcesses. He put a shunt in to help them drain and he wanted to see her in a week. She was given a mass of antibiotics but we had to give her more during the week. His staff gave us oral antibiotics. I looked at them blankly. Oral drops? This cat? I asked if they had powdered antibiotics. The office manager told us to just open her mouth and squeeze them in. Sure--if I'm wearing chainmail and leather suit--may be! Kathy--one of the technicians--saw we were in trouble and told us to put the drops in tuna fish. That little piece of advice has served us well since.
Anyway, after a week of bringing Sinatra in for Companion Kitty duties, (she wouldn't eat unless we brought him in--good thing he was really agreeable!) Tag had her shunt removed, her staples removed and was back to playing with her family.
The night before she was a victim of hit and run, she stretched up onto the screen on the kitchen door. She was talking to D--reaching for him. He bent down and through the screen, let her touch his face with her paw. Our tough kitty was ever so gentle--she didn't use her claws to touch D's face. It was a very emotional moment.
The next afternoon, she was hit by a car and killed instantly. We buried her in the back yard next to Quinn, my beloved boy of 17 years.
We learned the hard lesson of feral cat management. It still pains us to bury a cat. I cry for days. Being hit by cars isn't the only way we lose them. Sometimes they just leave. Sometimes, disease or illness or infection gets them. Sometimes, we find out too late that we could have done more. Sometimes we know there wasn't any thing else we could have done. Sometimes, we never know. Sometimes, we know our time with them is limited.
Tag's surgery site
Tag
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
