The Cone, Week Two

The veterinary examined Presto yesterday afternoon, and pronounced his progress very good. His eye is healing very nicely. She does want the little fellow to wear his cone for another week, though I will be removing it for periods when he is under my supervision.

Presto is still behaving excellently with the cone. He doesn’t like it, and resists a little when I put it on, but there is no trouble doing so. He plays wearing it, but cannot participate when his brothers play, which I know makes him feel left out. But he is still full of energy and action, as a kitten should be, and next week, when the cone comes off, he’ll be a full-time Tempo again.

Time, Our Ally

Little Coda can be found pretty much anywhere in the Cosy Cabin now. He doesn’t go often into the bedroom, but he’s been there, and he likes to see what’s happening in the sitting room and kitchen, especially if some of the other cats are present. He plays with the Tempos and has a good relationship with Moxy and Brazil. I was never too worried about that aspect of his integration.

He is very slowly coming to trust me, or, perhaps more accurately, slowly becoming less wary of me. He will still run from me, but it’s now a trot, rather than a gallop, and if I am not passing near him, he will watch me but remain. Sometimes, I find him observing me. This morning, he stared at me as I washed and brushed my teeth, activities he may never have witnessed before in a human. He will bounce away from me when I bring him his soft-food, but at some point will turn and stand his ground. I can come close to him then, and give him his food. As with Brazil, feeding and playing seem to be the best meeting points for new human and new cat.

I worried at first that I might have another Sable in my household, but kittens are both naturally curious and gregarious, and I think the matter of time will solve any remaining doubts he may have about living with people.

Privileges and Advantages

As he is recovering from his surgery, Presto is treated differently than are the other Tempos. It’s not just about wearing the cone most of the time; I do take that off but only when I can watch him directly. I don’t want him playing with his brothers unless I can keep an eye on him, and what they get up to at night, in the library, when they should be sleeping, could cause damage to the surgical site, even with the cone.

Therefore, the oldest Tempo doesn’t sleep with his siblings anymore. He sleeps on the bed with me and some of the other beasts, both at night, and when I nap. I wondered at first how he would take to this. Though he wanted - and still wants - to sleep on a part of the bed that is reserved for Imogen, there is little trouble from the kitten. I place him on the far side of me, and he eventually - rather quickly, in fact - settles down to rest. I am surprised that he seems to sleep right through the night, without moving much. He, like most of the cats, will rise before I do, and start his day early. Other than that, he barely disturbs me or the others.

This new routine not only allows him to stay safe from possible inadvertent harm during unsupervised play, but gets him ready for the time when he is adopted. That he will - and wants to - sleep with his person is very good; most adopters like that arrangement. It is not only good that he does this, but it is good to know that he does. And it allows him further to synchronize his habits with a human’s.

Presto’s situation has its privileges - and its advantages.

Ah, Saturday Night

Saturday night did not unfold as usual. The routine is to feed the cats their last meal of the day (‘snack-time’), clean up, have a bath and watch a movie. It’s hardly exciting, but I look forward to it all week. Last night departed from the pattern, unfortunately.

I had fed the beasts and took some items to the furnace room/laundry, in the basement. That’s when I noticed that water was soaking half the floor. I thought initially that the washing machine had burst a pipe. When I saw that water was gushing out of a major pipe behind the water-heater, I changed my opinion.

I immediately called my landlady, and she immediately called a plumber. It was about an hour before the plumber arrived, but, on a Saturday night of a long weekend, that was pretty good. I had noticed in that time that the sump pump appeared to be doing its job, as the water on the floor was not increasing. I tried to find the general shut-off for the house’s water-supply but could not find it.

After the plumber came and worked on the problem, it turned out that it was centred on the pump: it was trying to rid the house of some water that had accumulated during the rainy day, and had encountered roots in the pipes outside the house. Consequently, the water was returning to the basement, only to be ejected again by the pump. That was why I had seen the gushing of the water increase when the pump started up again, over and over. The plumber cleared the roots from the pipes, and told me that the shut-off for the water was somewhere beneath the street, a not uncommon location for old houses.

The problem is now solved, at least until roots intrude into the municipal plumbing again. The sump pump was, after all, simply trying to do its job: if conscious, it probably would have been puzzled as to why water kept returning after it was thrown out. The damage was minimal, dampness that needed sopping up, and dirt that needed cleaning. The water didn’t cover more than half the furnace room, and didn’t come close to the library, across the staircase landing. The stairs needed vacuuming again (I had done it earlier that day) because of outside debris brought in. The business did ruin my Saturday night but it could have been much worse. My landlady was on the problem right away, and came over to make sure the plumber did what was necessary.

And I had almost been ready to congratulate myself on having no new cat or a sick resident to tend to. My love/hate relationship with long weekends nonetheless continues…

A Tale of Two Players

Playing is a good way of progressing in a number of directions. Coda is still very wary of me, and spends much of his time hiding. But at play-time, he will come out. On such occasions, the streamer-stick is very helpful. I recall that it brought Brazil more out of his shell. I stood at a distance, which he found non-threatening, yet I could interact with him. The same is the case with Coda. He didn’t quite know what to do with the streamer-stick at first, but he got the idea.

Presto, on the other hand, is showing that he still has a kitten’s spirit, even though it shows only in one eye now. He does find the cone restrictive, and while I take it off for his meals and at other times, it can be removed only when I am directly watching him. Consequently, he rests more than the other Tempos, and more than he did before his surgery, but resting, along with plenty of good food, is just what he needs most now. But it’s pleasing to see him play now and then.

Even so, his brothers are cautious around this strange creature, who looks like a mutated version of their sibling. Maybe once that cone disappears, poor Presto won’t be such an object of curiosity.

The Healing Continues

Presto is doing well. He is spending his days and nights in the back parlour, isolated from the other beasts, though I will probably let him out when I am present this weekend. The only reason he is being kept away from the others is because I don’t want any injuries caused to his eye-wound or private parts. If I am present, and he wears his cone, it should be acceptable for him to have some freedom.

He is clearly lonely by himself. He has never been by himself. I tried putting Largo with him last night, but that didn’t end his crying and occasional banging, thumping and scraping as he tried to escape the room through the closed door. All it did was add Largo’s low and constant warning growls. I think the appearance of a cone-headed creature, perhaps smelling quite different from his brother, unnerved Rhapsody’s youngest. I will try them together again during the weekend, and maybe Presto can have some company in the night.

I spent time with Presto last evening. I removed his cone and he seemed untroubled by either surgical location. I am not so worried about the neutering. Newly neutered cats usually heal perfectly well there; certainly, ferals do and must, as they cannot be tended to in their recovery. But it would take only the swipe of a claw during a normal scratch of an itchy spot to tear open the eye-wound.

With me watching for such things, though, I removed the cone, and Presto was very happy with the company, kneading and purring and eventually drifting off to sleep for a while.

Little Cyclops

Yesterday was busy. Presto had his surgery, which went well. There were no complications; he was neutered and his left eye was removed. It turned out that the lens was not luxated, after all, though exactly what caused the condition is still a mystery. The eyeball did need to be removed however: it had been affected severely and was, to all intents and purposes, destroyed.

I want to keep Presto separated from the others for a while; he doesn’t need play-time causing any damage. He must wear a cone for a whole week. This did not sit well with him, and he devoted all his energies and determination to removing the cone. He managed to do it numerous times, probably a dozen through the evening and night. While he wore it, he banged and scraped and dragged against everything he could find, mainly the door to the back parlour where he was confined. When he was not doing this, he was crying, often simultaneously. And it was continuous, from the moment he returned home until after midnight. He woke me with it again about three o’clock.

To let him roam free would be an invitation to barging into more objects, falling down stairs, being stuck in straitened spaces, having some cats fight the cone and the others terrified of it. A separate room is the better of two unsatisfactory options. I debated as to whether to put him in the library, with its uncarpeted floor - easier for a cone-head to move and easier to clean - or the back parlour. But the library is where the Tempos are fed; feeding them elsewhere is distracting for them and others, and then no one eats. Also, the Tempos would have to be free all the time - or confined to the small space of the back parlour, with numerous extra litter-boxes adding to the clutter and mess. I chose to put Presto there.

That kicks Coda out of his safe space. He has been exploring already, but there is a difference between visiting the wide world when you have a secure place to return to, and being exiled to it with no refuge. Presto’s troubles came at an inopportune time, as Coda was beginning to grow used to me. That has received a set-back.

I hope to have things in the Cosy Cabin re-set in a week’s time…

Awaiting Surgery

Presto was taken to the hospital this afternoon for surgery to remove his left eye. He will stay at the hospital over-night and be operated on tomorrow morning. He will be neutered during the same surgery, so that he won't suffer another operation in two weeks' time.

The eye had grown in size even while I was at work today. It is causing pressure and is probably hurting Presto, though he is showing no signs of it. He is blind in that eye and if it stays in, it could affect the other one.

We don’t know the cause of this condition. The doctor thinks it might be due to an injury, though she thinks it is more likely to be congenital. If so, there is a chance that the other eye will be similarly affected later. Only time will tell.

In the meanwhile, the left one will be removed, and Rhapsody’s first-born son will feel better soon. He has been playing and purring, despite the condition, so I have no doubt that he will adjust quickly and well to a permanent situation of only one eye.

Getting to that adjustment, however, makes for a distressing interval in the Cosy Cabin.

One of the Boys

Coda is taking further steps in his integration: he is playing with the Tempos.

Yesterday, I heard some noises, rumbling and bustling, coming from the back parlour. When I investigated, the noises of course ceased, but by repeated snooping, I was able to see Coda allowing himself to be chased, at different times, by Presto and Allegro. He ran around the cat-tree at the west-side window, and then behind the bookcase. He and his new friends also used the couch as a setting, hiding and sneaking around that.

Coda is also exploring. I caught him in the bathroom, and inadvertently trapped him in the bedroom when I entered during his foray there. He hid under the bed until he felt it safe to escape.

I intend to leave the door to the parlour open more and more. I don’t want the newcomer to be overwhelmed, so I will close it at times. But the more it is open, the more Coda will come out. My next goal is to have him comfortable with me. That can take its time, though; the more important stage - that of enjoying his feline roommates - has been reached.

Introductions Were in Order

The introductions have begun. I had hoped to let the other cats, especially the Tempos, meet Coda during movie-night, but the new boy remained hidden for the duration of the movies I’ve watched: now used to me - though not yet trusting me - he thinks the other voices he hears during movie-night are people in the room. Me talking on my telephone, with the speaker on, has the same effect.

After the movie last night, however, I kept the door to the back parlour open, and the Tempos came in. I was surprised that Coda was much the most forward and welcoming cat. He purred continuously; though purring can mean other than contentment or happiness, his body-language suggested enjoyment. He tilted his head in curiosity, he rolled, he exposed his belly, he rubbed. The Tempos, especially Presto, wanted to meet him, but were cautious, and there were a few raised paws, ready to strike, and a few hisses. There have been no more threatening gestures, and no fights.

Coda has also met two of the adult cats, Brazil and Moxy. Both of these were more interested in reclaiming their usual spots in the parlour than in meeting the new boy, while each acknowledged him. Coda, as he did with the Tempos, wanted to get to know his bigger new roommates. He has now met all the boys. The girls seem uninterested in his presence.

So far, Coda is not a big deal with the beasts already established here. That’s fine with me. I appear to be the biggest worry the newcomer has, which is also fine with me.

Looking Him in the Eye

Yesterday, Presto went to the doctor again for a second opinion on his left eye. The eye is still not clear enough for a very good examination, but it does look like the lens is detached. Depending on where it is in the eyeball, it could settle back into place, or it could cause further problems. In the meantime, there is pressure building, and the doctor is worried about the possibility of glaucoma developing.

There is a chance that a special surgery can correct the problem, if the exact problem could be identified. That surgery would be very expensive and not necessarily conclusive. It’s not felt to be practical for Presto.

For now, he continues to receive the Prednisolone drops - which have reduced some swelling and discomfort - but he is probably looking at the loss of an eye.

The Other Side

Coda is still apprehensive over my presence, but comes out of hiding while I am in the back parlour. He stayed hidden for the whole of the movie on Saturday night, but I think the extra voices he heard scared and confused him. The same thing happens when I am in the room and speaking on the telephone. But he is growing used to me.

He is also interested in the cats beyond the closed door. The Tempos are especially curious about him. This Friday, he will have been in quarantine for two weeks, and he shows no sign of any illness. This weekend, therefore, Coda’s world may expand.

Millie's New Life

Every time there is an adoption through the rescue-group, I interview the new owner and write an article about her or him  and their new family member for the group’s newsletter. I spoke with Millie’s new human recently and, though I don’t have permission to publish any new pictures of my former foster-cat, I can report that it is a very successful adoption.

Millie had little trouble adapting to her changed situation. I am sure that part of her missed the routine that was comfortable and familiar at the Cosy Cabin. I am also sure that missing her old life didn’t last long when she realised that she was now an only-cat. She and her person are getting along very well. Millie sleeps with her every night, usually on her pillow, sometimes on her head. I knew Millie wanted to sleep with a human when she quickly chose to lie on the bed during my naps; I am very pleased she has the freedom to do that at night, too, now.

She also plays more, and has a collection of toys that she sometimes brings into the bedroom. Her person described how she will wake to find a small pile of toys has been gathered during the night. Millie is enjoying being brushed, something for which I didn’t always have time; I was told that it is quite funny how Millie contorts herself into different shapes in her delight at being brushed - though, ironically, it make the brushing more difficult.

Millie is eating well - with the time and security to eat when she likes - and using the litter-box without a problem. Readers may recall that that was an issue with which she arrived at the Cosy Cabin. I think the evaporation of stress that occurred moving to a home where she is the only animal plays a great part in its continued resolution.

Initially, Millie’s person was interested in Valkyrie, but the Eternal Kitten would not have suited her, something she knew even at the time. Valk was too young, too energetic and liked other feline company too much to be an only-cat. After Valk was adopted, I told the woman about Millie, who is a much better fit. Millie, who has a different name now, could not have found a better home or a better person. Her final home is her happiest, by far.

Sooner or Later

This is Sable. Why she is sprawled in front of my computer monitor, I don’t know. She has just started doing it. She also lies on the top of the short, small dresser next to the desk. If she wants to be cool, there are other places she could lie that are farther from me.

From her lying on the near side of Moxy while on the bed at night to letting me squat very close to her to lying on my desk, Sabe seems to want to be physically closer to me - yet she still won’t allow me to touch her. Nonetheless, I will use the opportunities she’s presenting me. When she is on my desk, I will sit and try to work on the computer. That may allow her to grow used to my hands moving while very near her.

Sooner or later, my girl, sooner or later…

A Mother's Love

I’m not the only one who cares about the Tempos’ well-being.

Periodically, I lock them in the library, especially at meal-times, when being among the other cats may be distracting to them. As well, afterward, they tend to snooze, their tummies full. This allows the adults some time away from the antics of the kittens. But then I let them out again.

Every time I let them out, Rhapsody comes and waits for them, usually at the top of the staircase. They gather around her, purring loudly. She still loves her boys, and they still love her.