Mapping the New Territory

The beasts continue to adjust well to their new home. It helped Imogen that she was the first explorer; in a way, she claimed the other rooms before the rest of the group showed up, and hasn’t been reluctant to go anywhere since. In the apartment, she was less willing to venture into the sitting room than other spaces, perhaps because she felt cut off from a retreat; though the other cats didn’t threaten her, she simply disliked being near them. She still does, but is more willing to put up with it.

Brazil, too, travels everywhere, though he is much more cautious about it. Indigo and Moxy don’t go into the sitting room much, but I think it’s merely because they feel no need for it. And old Neville is still comfy in the bedroom, where there is a bowl of water, a small hard-food bowl, his soft-food is hand-delivered and a litter-box is near by. But he has explored elsewhere, including the basement, which shows that he isn’t afraid of the new spaces.

But, like me, the cats like to adapt old habits to new environments.Toward that end, Imo has decided that the house’s refrigerator is as good as the apartment’s for lying on. She can’t see well out a window from this one, but it does provide her with that superior feeling toward her fellow felines. As with the previous residence, she is not allowed on the kitchen counters, though, if she is swift, she can use one as a jumping-stone to the top of the refrigerator. She’s learned that that is permitted here, too.

Back on the Air, Sort Of...

Well, that’s done.

The move on Saturday went well. It took longer than the allotted time, but not by much. There was apparently a lot of books, about fifty boxes of them. That’s a great deal of lifting. But the movers - two youngsters, not more than twenty-five, I’d say - worked well and steadily, and without complaint. I was in my new digs by two-thirty that afternoon.

The cats had to be dispersed to three different locations during the operation, spending time in bathrooms. Imogen behaved quite well, incarcerated with Moxy; Neville and Brazil weren’t going to cause problems; Indigo was alone, as she might scrap with either Imo or Shimmer in close quarters. All have come through the ordeal better than I had anticipated.

Imogen explored immediately, and seemed to enjoy the extra space, running repeatedly through the length of the house, sliding on the bare linoleum of the corridor. Since the others were slow to follow her lead, she was able to search out most of the building. Brazil then began his investigations, bobbing and weaving with every step, as if expecting an ambush. Indigo and Moxy were less inclined to scout out the new surroundings, but they did eventually. Neville was content with the bedroom (the bed is still as comfy as before) with a periodic trip to a litter-box.

Since then, they have arranged themselves on the bed at night, Indigo on one side of me, Moxy on another, and Nev at my feet. Imogen is a little put out, though if she weren’t so stand-offish with the others, she could have a spot, too, and sometimes does, forcing Moxy to lie between Indie and the Nevsky. But that doesn’t bother Mox.

The only problem with the cats is that Brazil is not eating soft-food. He did this before during a big change; he will come around eventually, and, in the meantime, is nibbling enough hard-food to keep from suffering any internal setbacks.

My internet is still evading me. The connection was intended for Saturday, the day of the move, but the technician discovered that the cable supply it had been cut, and the end that needed replacement was high up on an old telephone pole that had split too dangerously to climb. I was initially told that the city would need to replace the pole before anything could be done for me. I of course envisioned weeks of delay. But then it was decided to use one of the several bucket-trucks the internet company has; that is, after all, their purpose. I will have to make another appointment for the connection, but that should be completed by next weekend. In the meantime, I will access the internet, and my email, though my work-place. Delays in responses are inevitable.

I like my new abode. I have to buy some extra furniture - a couple of armchairs, a writing table - but am quite pleased with it. It is the same distance to my job as was the apartment, though it will take a shorter time to travel, as railway tracks and other impedimenta were in the way of the previous route. It will be easier in snow, too.

I have appended some photos of the new place, along with their residents. There are a couple of rooms that need completing - books to be put away, mainly, but also pictures to be hung - so their pictures will come later. Those attached will, however, give an idea of what it looks like.

I had a relaxing bath at the end of Saturday, but I had to put up with this guy watching me the whole time...

(Alas, I was not able to capture Cicero or Arliss. In better shape, and probably younger than Sable, they certainly have other food sources than Cafe Cosy (which is now shut down), so I am less worried about them than I would be about Sabe. She is still doing well in her temporary home, and will soon join me and the beasts at the Cosy Cabin.)

Now is the Winter of Our Disconnect

Just a short entry today to let everyone who reads this blog know that I may be incommunicado for a few days, because of my move. According to the plan, my internet, soon to be disconnected at the apartment, will be connected at the new location the day I move. That may be the case, but I thought I would warn readers in case it is not. With luck, the next time you read this blog, I won’t be here.

(Comments may take a while to appear, as they are moderated, and I won’t have the chance to approve them right away.)

The Feline's Progress

The way a cat can progress never ceases to fascinate me. I wrote about Indigo yesterday, but not really about how far she has come. This is a cat who initially was ready to scratch at my touch. I couldn’t give her the insulin she required at first, and, when she started to warm up to me and lie beside me, only then could I inject her with the insulin – and not always even then.

But lying beside me was a start. Now, I can inject her wherever she is lying. It is still sometimes difficult, but only because she sometimes jams herself into a corner to snooze, perhaps to make sure none of the other cats will sneak up on her. She knows the needle is coming and prepares herself; she will sometimes give a sharp, short yell, but I keep the injection going, rub the top of her head, and she allows me to finish.

But Indigo’s progress is more than that. She makes full eye-contact with me now, and at dinner, with her lying on the next chair, she started purring as I spoke to her, without a pet or stroke. Afterward, I was relaxing on the couch with a cup of tea (relaxing for more than a quarter-hour these days is at a premium); Indie jumped down from a perfectly comfortable, cushioned chair to lie on my lap.

We have become friends.

This is the wonderful part of fostering. I have seen it repeatedly that when a cat has given her trust to one human, she finds it easier to give it to others. Numerous cats I’ve known to start out shy or stand-offish – Dabney, Hector, Portia, to name three – came to be friendly and affectionate with me, and then, when they were adopted, skipped right over the timid part with their new person. Even when they remain shy in new company, it doesn’t last long.

Will Indigo be adopted? Diabetic cats rarely are, though the easier they are to medicate, the better the chance of adoption. If she remains with me, I think we will stay good friends. If she goes to another home, I think she will make new ones.

That’s progress.

Three More Sleeps

The day of the big move is almost upon us. I am looking forward to having it finished. However, in the meantime, some good things are happening.

Indigo is clearly feeling better. I think she is still suffering from stress to a degree. Not only is everything being pulled up, packed away and set aside, there is almost constant noise during the day of renovations from other apartments. Nonetheless, Indie has improved. She is urinating in normal quantities, and is drinking more. She also consented to crawl onto my lap yesterday for half an hour of purring and petting.

My newest foster-cat, Moxy, also is taking steps in the right direction. His yowling at the windows is diminishing, so I gave him the freedom of the house last night. He decided to jump up on the bed, and spend the dark hours there, which I thought a very good idea. Imogen did not agree, and was growling warily for a while. But Mox still has evinced no aggression toward the other beasts, even when provoked by Indigo’s grumpiness, or tested by Brazil’s surveillance. His former guardian’s claim that Moxy wet where he shouldn’t and slapped around his other cats may have been as mistaken as Minuet’s alleged diabetes.

So the Cosy Apartment seems to be ending this chapter of our story with positive feelings. I think this will continue during its transformation into the Cosy Cabin.

A Little Better in the Morning

Indigo is getting better. It’s a slow process, seemingly with a single new sign of improvement each day. She still wants to jam herself into her corner much of the time, but she is also lying about looking less like a pretzel. She also still feels that she needs to urinate when she doesn’t have to. However, she jumped onto the bed very early this morning, which she hasn’t done since the first couple of days of last week. She lie next to me and purred, though, as always, she left after about fifteen minutes, allowing me to waken enough to keep from falling asleep again before my alarm went off.

But I was pleased anyway.

An Early Departure

I had to give away the over-toilet storage unit today. It came with the Cosy Apartment and has been very useful to me. The set-up of the new home’s bathroom is such that there is no space for it, however. If it were left behind, it would likely be thrown out in the renovations. At least this way, someone will be able to appreciate it.

But its departure left a space which Imogen noticed, and puzzled over.

Balancing

To balance the good news regarding Sable and Moxy, the universe decrees that there be some bad news, so I don’t become too cocky. As bad news goes, it’s not disastrous. Nonetheless, Indigo is feeling quite poorly.

Several days ago, I noticed that she was reserved, was rolling herself into a tighter ball in her corner, and having little interest in anything. Then I saw that she tried to use the litter-box a couple of times, and could not produce waste. Late yesterday afternoon, she wet a tiny amount in a box-lid, the location (not a litter-box) itself being a bad symptom. A check of her blood-glucose revealed it to be 15.0, a usual number before insulin.

It was too late to take her to the hospital, but I made an appointment for Monday. I and a friend in the rescue-group suspect cystitis. Cystitis is a term denoting a problem in the urinary tract for which there is no other apparent cause. There was no blood in the small amount of urine I saw (it was fortunate that Indie chose a box-lid; if she had peed in litter, the lack of blood would not have been obvious) so we don’t think it is an infection. Also, she has continued to eat throughout; an infection is more likely to put her off her food.

Cystitis can last up to a couple of weeks, though it has been our experience that it lingers for just a few days. Further, there is no real treatment for it, since cystitis is the condition that is accused when nothing else is found to be causing the problem. Extra hydration may be required. It usually clears up of its own accord.

The good news is that I observe signs that Indigo is already feeling better. She is less protective in her posture, she is meeting my gaze more, she climbed onto my lap for petting and purrs (which she hasn’t done since Wednesday), and even half-rolled over, allowing me to rub her chest.

I will cancel the veterinary appointment if she continues to improve, but it is handy to have otherwise. I would rather not cause her the stress of a hospital visit if it can be avoided. In fact, according to the Cornell University College of Veterinary Medicine’s website, “stress seems to be an important factor in the development of FIC [feline idiopathic cystitis].” Though initially all the beasts responded well to the packing and clutter of the move, I can well believe that it eventually got to be too much for one of them. As a friend stated, if Indie was, as we believe, abandoned by a family who moved away without her, it may be that she associates all the boxes and turmoil with that abandonment. There is no way to tell her that she will never experience that again.

While Indigo looks to be improving, I will stay vigilant and determine what should be done by late tomorrow.

Meanwhile, Back at The Cosy Apartment...

The good news continues from Sable’s temporary abode: she took a poop in her litterbox. Hopefully, all of this progress won’t receive too much of a set-back when she comes to live with me, in just over a week’s time. Considering how quickly she’s moved along so far, I think she will do well.

Turning to another new cat, Moxy’s progress has been good, also. He still is confined to the library at night, but during most of the day, he is free to roam. And he does. He has been in all the rooms of the apartment, visited the litterboxes in the store-room and met all the cats. He has behaved very well with them, acknowledging their presence, but not trying to interact with them. Neville is resigned to being sniffed by another strange cat; Imogen and Indigo have of course warned him off, while Brazil growls lowly at him but nonetheless tolerates his proximity.

Mox still cries loudly at times, especially when staring out the windows, but this behaviour is diminishing. He is quiet at night. The only real problem is that he does want to go outside and cannot be trusted with open windows. He will try to force himself between the glass pane and the screen in an effort to get out, and will undoubtedly burst the screen with his strength and bulk, if given the opportunity. Moreover, if the window is open just wide enough for his paw, he is able to push and/or pull it open. The window in the library is different, as he cannot position himself to obtain the leverage he can at other windows.

With care, he will be prevented from escaping, and, I suspect, this behaviour too will vanish. He likes most aspects of being an insider-cat, I can tell; the regular meals are appealing, he likes the company, and, come the very cold weather, will enjoy the warmth and comfort. He will make a fine inside-only feline.

And the Step After That

I am sure only cat-people will understand the satisfaction of being able to report such news as this. Last night - or early this morning - Sable used a litter-box.

She had two to choose from. One had clay Cat-Attract litter in it, especially helpful for cats who haven’t used a box before, and the other had the corn-based The World’s Best Cat Litter in it. She chose the latter. Furthermore, that box was outside of her cage, the door of which was left open last night, while the clay litter was within the bars. But the litter she chose had been used by other cats. That seems to’ve been the hint she needed.

Sable is proving a most interesting cat, especially for a feral. I can’t wait to have her move in with me.

(And she’s eaten more meals since my last blog-entry, too.)

The Next Step

One of the principal concerns of a cat in a new environment is that she eats. Sometimes, when we rescue cats, the feline refuses to eat for days on end. That is very worrying, as you may imagine, since the only alternative to the cat eating of her own accord is force-feeding by syringe. That’s not a viable option with a feral or even semi-feral animal.

Fortunately, Sable has surprised all of us involved in her care by having a meal at some point during her first night in captivity.

She was offered two kinds of Fancy Feast, as well as some very tasty rotisserie chicken. I know which one I would have preferred, but Sabe may never have consumed human food, and instead selected the old tried and true chicken Fancy Feast, eating the greater portion of half a tin. This is a great load off our minds.

Sable is currently in a large cage in a private room. Tonight, the cage door will be left open, and she will be free to explore the room. We think she is more amenable to doing things at night, when the house is still and quiet. That is when she ate her food. During the day, she will likely retreat to the carrier that is inside her cage. (This is desirable at this stage: the plan, when it is time to transport her to my new home, is that she retires of her own accord to her carrier and the door is simply shut on her. It has worked well for other very shy cats, who prefer to hide when people come to visit. Sabe will be socialised when she is at my place, and no more moving is in her future.)

Her next step, though, is using the litter-box. We have Cat-Attract litter in it; even so, a box is likely a new thing for her so it may be another day or night before she makes use of hers. Nonetheless, she made the first step to being an insider-cat last night.

Last Minute Thankfulness

Though I have much for which to be grateful in my life, I was hoping the Thanksgiving weekend, and the day itself, would not pass by without giving me one extra thing for which to be thankful. Nor did it. At about ten minutes after eight o’clock last night, I successfully trapped Sable.

She is currently in my bathroom, still in the trap; I might not be able to put her into anything portable if she were let out. This morning, she will go to another member of the rescue-group, where she will reside in a large cage, with a carrier inside it as her safe-zone. She will stay there for a couple of weeks until I move. Then she will come to live with me. There is a chance that she will be adoptable, but she has been feral all her life, so just getting her used to living inside with a human will be a chore.

For those who may not be familiar with Sable, I will explain her history. She and her sister, whom I named Sablette, were part of a feral colony in my neighbourhood. Before I arrived at the Cosy Apartment, they had been trapped and spayed, along with the others in the colony. The colony was then dispersed when the near by business was sold and its environment re-arranged. About two and a half years after I moved into the apartment, Sable and Sablette, two black cats whom I was told by older residents were sisters, started showing up outside my concrete ditch. I began feeding them, along with other cats.

The siblings were not regular visitors at first, and they would disappear for extended periods. Later, I would joke that they were visiting their holiday property by the lake. Then they stopped coming for an even longer while, and when I noticed a return, in March of 2020, it was only Sable. I never saw Sablette again.

Sable had been the bolder one of the pair, though now she was more skittish. She nonetheless came to know that food was to be had at Café Cosy, as much food as she could want. She came to know my voice, and would respond to the name I had given her. She remained at least semi-feral - though, to be honest, I don’t know if she may have once had a home, when very young - and never let me come close. But she came to trust me to an extent: if I startled her, not knowing she was present when I walked into or by the ditch, she would run, but stop and wait if I called to her.

I always had a fantasy of capturing her and keeping her inside and secure, but there were always other cats who needed the library as their safe-zone, always other cats to rescue. But once I decided to move, I knew I had to make capturing Sabe a priority. I knew too that it would not be easy. With her intelligence and experience, she would be prove a most exacting opponent.

Yesterday, I posted how difficult she was being. But I also came across a trick on-line that I thought might help. Sable had a habit of going into a trap and picking up food with her claw; to do this, she would stretch as far as she could and reach as far as she could, avoiding stepping on the trip-plate that closed the open trap. If I left a tempting trail toward the main bait, she would be satisfied with taking the trail. I saw something on-line that looked promising.

I inserted a stick width-wise through the mesh of the trap, at a point that was very near the trip-plate, but far enough from it that Sable could not reach the food from the safe-side of it. There would be only the main prize of food, in a dish not on the floor of the trap but suspended on strings, so that it would be clearly visible and, hopefully, tempting (Originally, I thought dishes would be too heavy, and planned to use tin foil. The day was very windy, however, and the foil was not heavy enough to keep from being blown about. The lightest dishes I had served well.) The purpose of the stick was to make her step over it, right onto the trip-plate. Even if she wanted to avoid it - her instincts are very good - she had to put pressure on it to reach the food.

I don’t know if it worked, as I was not watching at the time, and the back third of the trap was covered with a blanket. But the stick was the only difference between this success and previous failures. I came out from the bedroom at one point and saw Sabe in the trap but facing the entrance, which I thought unusual. Then I observed that the door was shut. She was trapped.

Sable was quiet during the night, though periodically I heard a medium-pitched hoot from the bathroom. She did not claw or bite at the steel mesh; she has been calm, and even sniffed my finger. She is not - yet - acting like a feral.

The great anxiety now will be to have her eat. Many times, cats in new environments will refuse food for a dangerous amount of time. A feral used to the great outdoors, confined now in a relatively small space, is in the newest environment imaginable. Some good thoughts directed toward Sabe’s appetite would be appreciated.

I still want to catch Cicero and Arliss, but may not be able to in the time remaining. Both present unique challenges. Sable I wanted to catch most of all. She was known to residents before I arrived at the Cosy Apartment, which makes her at least nine years old, and since she and Sablette had been spayed probably a year priorly, she is likely in her early teens. For her to age and, inevitably, sicken, out in the wild, with no one providing meals or medicine was a most unpleasant thought for me. I hope she will adjust and live out her last years in comfort and safety, and maybe even happiness.

Too Smart For Her Own Good

Operation Creamsicle is not going well. I have not been able to trap any of the three cats I want to take with me when I move. They are proving either evasive or elusive. I have seen Arliss only once in the last two weeks. Cicero ignores the traps completely, not even considering the food inside them. And Sable has used her intelligence and experience to avoid every pitfall.

She’s a smart one, all right. I have watched her enter a trap and eat the food left in a trail for her. If there is food beyond the trip-platform, she will ignore it. I realised this and started leaving food on the far edge of the raised trip-platform; Sable then stretched as far as she could and pulled the food away with her claws. She then backed out of the trap without touching the sides or the top. I’ve watched her go into and out of a trap three times in one instance, taking food with her each time. During other attempts, she will circle the trap, knowing that there is food within but will, ultimately, not go in, suspicious of the set-up.

I have tried all kinds of bait, including regular cat food, Temptation Treats, sardines, cheese, Kentucky Fried Chicken (which has not failed before) and raw beef. I have used traps covered and uncovered. I have re-positioned traps. I have a few more tactics to try, but I am running out of both ideas and time.

Nonetheless, on this Thanksgiving Day, I am thankful for what I have been able to do. I was able to capture Tiffany, for my erstwhile neighbour, and Moxy, for a possible future adoption. I am very grateful for the new home into which I will be moving shortly, and for my new landlord’s welcoming attitude to the cats I will have, and for the reasonable rent. There are too many things for which I am grateful, in fact, to list here. Suffice it to say that, even I don’t trap any outsiders, I will remain thankful for my life, and the opportunities it has given me.

Improvisation Amongst Disorder

The Cosy Apartment is in great disorder as it begins its move to the Cosy Cabin. There are boxes everywhere, all of which take up space. Further space is taken up by the furniture from which the contents of the boxes came, because, of course, I cannot put the boxes or their contents back there.

I think all this disarrangement is bothering me more than the cats. They are coping well. There is still the bed and the couches and an armchair for them to lie on, as well as the floor, both carpeted and bare, which has always appealed to them. Also, the cats are experts at improvisation. Indigo has decided that one of the filled boxes is as good as any other surface for lying on. Besides, it keeps her away from the other beasts, which both parties seem to like.

Less than two weeks until the move…

Moxy's Bad Dream

Yesterday, it was Moxy’s turn.

My new foster-cat went to the veterinary hospital for his check-up. He was displeased at the whole thing. It was a stressful time for him, made a little worse by having to have a few extra tests thrown in. He was given a SNAP test, for feline leukemia, FIV, and other nasty things. He was negative for all.

He is, in fact, in pretty good shape for a cat who was inside/outside for most of his life. He has no ear-mites, likely no worms (I have seen nothing in his feces, but he was given an anti-worm pill, just in case), his weight is good (he’s a naturally big cat) and his coat healthy. He does need a dental procedure. One of his canines is broken (I had noticed that myself) and will have to come out; it is causing him some pain. The surgery will be scheduled soon.

Then, it was back to the Cosy Apartment. Such was his worry that Moxy scratched his claws bloody on the carrier during the trip home. But those are superficial injuries, and he was soon eating, then lying against me, purring, kneading and drifting off to sleep. He probably thinks it was all a bad dream.