The Visitation

Sometimes cats are weird. An animal’s senses are sharper than a human’s, and therefore it can pick up stimuli that a person cannot. I understand that, but it doesn’t make it less strange when a cat suddenly and inexplicably - at least to me - stares at a blank wall. It can be downright eerie. One day last week, the four perma-cats gathered at the tall cat-tree and started casting about, watching, or trying to watch...something? Even Tungsten, usually indifferent to almost everything, joined the group.

Was it a whistle that I could not hear (or is that dogs?)? Was it an insect that had gotten into the house on that autumn night? Was the house ‘settling’? Or was it a homicidal ghost and my trusted and most affectionate pets were collecting to tell it that there was a perfectly good human to kill, so why bother with cats?

In any case, the visitation did not last long and the felines went their separate ways. When it comes to gathering at cat-trees, this is the way I prefer to see them.

More on Tucker? Why Not?

Just in case anyone reading this hasn’t had his surfeit of Tucker, here’s another report.

It has been a few weeks since I wrote about him, and he did undergo a major operation. The poor fellow wasn’t through yet. As reported earlier, he suffered an infection. What's new is that, once the first infection was cleared up, he acquired another. This necessitated a further visit to the veterinarian. He was poked and prodded some more, and some of his bodily fluids despatched to Calgary for analysis.

He had two kinds of bacteria at once, and has been given a new medicine. It comes in the form of a little pill. The instructions on the package say to give him one pill three times a day. How can I give him the same pill three times? That would be impossible, as he swallows each pill and it dissolves in his stomach. Once that semantical difficulty was overcome, all I had to do was force Tucker to take his medicine. He must take three pills a day for 28 days. My poor roly poly.

He is remarkably easy-going about it. He doesn’t fight much; his resistance is passive, and he has become adept at hiding the pill, even after several mouthfuls of water injected by syringe to make sure it goes down. But I haven’t lost a pill yet. And my roly poly doesn’t take umbrage at his manhandling. I tell him afterward that he is a good boy and I rub his fuzzy head. He purrs.

He is a cat who wants to be happy. I believe that he likes his little world and enjoys himself most of the time. I judge his well-being by how he plays and how he purrs.

He is currently feeling very good. The latest infection had him feeling low, but he has conquered it and is his old self. He has discovered something about the new rug. He can slide on it. When we are playing with a string toy, he will throw his forefeet out in front of him and push himself with his rear legs, as though he were a sled. It’s one of the silliest things I’ve ever seen. Trust Tucker to come up with it.

He also plays peek-a-boo with me. I was picking something off the floor next the bed last night. Tucker was on the bed. I looked at him over the edge of the bedspread, then ducked down again. He started purring immediately. When I peeked over again, he lowered his head quickly, only to raise it when I lowered mine.

It’s moments like that that make me feel the amount of money spent on the little fellow’s health to be insignificant. But then, I’d be kidding myself if I thought each of my cats didn’t give me a similar moment every day.

Rachael's Progress

My guest-cat, Rachael, is doing well at my house. Because of the disagreements she has been having with the perma-cats, I have had to keep her in one room most of the time, and let her out for an hour once a day on weekdays and three or four times on weekends; at these times, the other felines are confined to the bedroom, which they take as a great indignity. Renn whines, Tucker cowers as if it’s a personal punishment and Josie tried to hide (since her method of camouflage seems to amount to no more than turning her back to me and moving behind a chair, it’s rarely a challenge for me). Tungsten is indifferent to it, though I know she dislikes it.

This is, as you may imagine, hardly an ideal arrangement, but Rachael seems to be suffering less stress. She is always eager to get out of the back parlour and when she has the freedom of the house, she explores, plays and checks out the different views. She doesn’t complain when she is re-incarcerated (probably because I give her treats when the time comes) but complains often once inside. I wish I could let her out more frequently, but her integration with my cats is better made slowly.

Her litter-box issues appear to have vanished. I have given her two litter-boxes to use, which I think she needed with her long hair. Rachael quite rightly disliked the possibility of her luxurious fur being soiled in a used litter-box; having an extra has been a blessing. Now that she has been shaved of most of her hair, that is less of a problem, though over time the fur will re-grow, so she should always have the opportunity of two litter-boxes.

Rachael also periodically wet downstairs, again outside a litter-box and again likely due to stress. This problem too seems to have resolved itself. I now let Rachael go where she likes once she is out of the back parlour, and she has not abused my trust. I think the multiple litter-boxes, combined with gradual acclimatization has solved her problems.

She has an affectionate and at times imperious personality. She is definitely a cat who knows what she wants. She has no problem jumping on to my lap now, where she will stay for extended periods, slowly becoming lost in the joy of being petted. She once fell asleep on my lap and will no doubt do so again. When not actually on me, she will lie near by and show her appreciation of attention by flexing her little paws.

Because of the cold weather and her shorn condition, she has had a heating pad inserted in the folds of a down comforter on which to recline. She takes full advantage of it. It warms to a nice, gentle temperature and the chilly nights are no doubt rendered quite snug for her.

Rachael loves to play. Her preference is a string toy. She enjoys hiding in the nylon tunnel and grabbing at the toy through a hole in the top, or lunging at it from the open end. She will also wrestle with the toy at various stages of the cat-tree, sometimes throwing herself on to her back to kick the bottom of the platform above in excitement. For playing by herself, she likes a little plastic ring off the top of milk jugs. It slides across the floor easily yet is light enough to go distances when swatted by a paw.

I’ve decided to spend movie-night with Rachael instead of Renn. That’s a bit of a disappointment for my big boy, who has scratched at the closed door of the back parlour more than once, wondering why he has been shut out of our Saturday night entertainment. But he still has bath-time later that night, which he enjoys much more than movie-time, while Rachael would have to spend a couple of hours alone elsewhere. So I and my guest-cat watch a film together; well, I watch and she snoozes, sometimes on my lap, sometimes on her heated bed next to me. I think she likes the company.

And so Rachael, the little lion, is ready for her permanent home. There is still much to learn about her, still much for her to learn. But a human is waiting for her, and she is waiting for that human - whether either knows it or not.

Rachael, Shaven and Shorn

Rachael made a visit to the veterinary office yesterday. It involved minor surgery, but since she had to have anaesthetic, there was a concern, as there always is under those conditions, no matter the health of the cat. I am pleased to report that she came through the ordeal very well.

She had quite a bit done to her, the poor girl. The principal reason for her visit to the doctor was to have her teeth seen to. A number were in bad shape, and a couple were extracted. The whole lot was cleaned. She may have been suffering some discomfort, even pain, from the condition in which her teeth had been, but should be feeling much better now. While knocked out, other aspects of her health were attended to.

The dreadful mats in her hair were so strongly embedded that it was better just to shave most of her body. Thus, she looks like a tiny lion. Her head and neck were spared, as were her forelegs, giving her the same sort of coat as a bison. But her back legs and the end of her tail retain their hair, too. She looks decidedly smaller. Her weight, as it turns out, is more than nine pounds, which I find incredible, considering how light she feels to hold.

Her claws were clipped, which makes having her on my lap much more pleasant for me. She kneads a great deal, so I no longer have to see spots of blood on my trouser legs. A sample from her bladder was taken for testing. I haven’t heard the results yet, but I expect she will be fine in that regard. This test was more in the way of a precaution, due to her excessive wetting earlier. That has diminished, and she not only using the litter-box exclusively now, the amounts that she leaves there are more normal than previously, and in better shape.

She was active when she returned home, wanting out of the downstairs bathroom where she was put. I let her roam the basement for a while, but kept her downstairs until this morning. She was given plenty of comfort to make her semi-naked state less cold. A heating pad was inserted under the quilt upon which she has been sleeping, and a fuzzy dome of a cat-house provided, as well as another big, warm mat. I brought several items, including the heating pad, upstairs this morning, when she was transferred to the parlour for the day.

She was very hungry last night after her fasting, and wolfed down a small portion of Fancy Feast, and a second, a couple of hours later. I couldn’t give her too much, of course, but I gave her enough to assuage her hunger for a while. I provided a bit more this morning. I am hoping that this opportunity will give her a fondness for Fancy Feast and, later, Wellness or some other nutrition. Before surgery, she ate only Almo by way of soft-food, and I wanted to give her a brand that provided her with more nutrients. I figured that if she were hungry enough, she’d eat even what she previously didn’t like. It’s worked so far; I want her to retain her liking for the different food.

But so far, so good. Rachael improves each day. This surgery, the greater health in her mouth, the destruction of those mats, will make her life much better. Whether she interacts more amicably with my perma-cats remains to be seen, but health first, friendship second. Even though there is less of her now, what there is, is in good condition.

The Cat-beds Come Out

It’s that time of year again. The temperature is dropping - well, this week it’s supposed to go up, but let’s not ruin the flow of the narrative - and the house gets colder easier. My heating bill will rise in inverse proportion to the temperature, and the populace of our little kingdom will need to don thicker clothes. For those who don’t have that option, there is an alternative.

The cat-beds have come out again. For the first couple of weeks, I simply placed them on the floor without the heating pads that I purchased later for them. But then this weekend, I noticed Tungsten lying, folded up like a little boat, on a platform of a cat-tree right above a heating vent. No fool, she. This told me that she was feeling the chill. And why shouldn’t she? She’s always been as fatless as a stalk of celery, and she’s a year older than she was last autumn: twelve and a half. My orange one is still active and healthy - but she feels the cold.

So the heating pads came out next, were inserted in the beds and those that use them are happy. Josie likes a heated bed. Why, I don’t know. I saw this overweight cat lying in a fuzzy bed, with the heating pad on, in the sun. I’m surprised I didn’t have to rush her to the emergency ward with heat stroke. But she and Tungsten both enjoy the beds, so they are set for winter. Renn enjoys squeezing himself into a bed. Tucker rarely resorts to them.

My house-guest Rachael, discovered the heated beds one evening. She appeared to like them, as well. But, if you read the next article, you’ll find that she will need a warm bed more than ever.

Now, if only I could lie all day in a warm bed...

Getting to Know Rachael

My house-guest is Rachael, a long-haired female cat, a ‘dilute’ calico. She’s still adjusting to her new situation, and her new situation is still adjusting to her. She replaced Luther, who was having troubles in my house as a foster-cat because of his almost nonchalant attacks on my perma-cats. Other than that, Luther was a wonderful little fellow. He is now doing very well as an only cat in a new foster-home.

Rachael is not as adaptable as Luther. She had a difficult time using only the litter-box for her waste-disposal. She also scrapped with both my male cats, and then took after Josie. Tungsten is the only one she hasn’t yet fought with, though she looked at one point as if she might. It’s true that such rows are to be expected. But the mere presence of my boys seemed to cause Rachael anxiety, and since she was having litter-box problems, I thought it best to isolate them. So now, Rachael is kept by herself in the back parlour during the day and in the downstairs bathroom at night. I let her out while the other cats are confined for an hour at a time. This is practically the same situation as Luther endured. It’s far from ideal but it will have to do for now.

On the positive side, Rachael is now more controlled with regard to wetting. At one point, she was depositing waste in the litter-box, and then again outside. The Lethbridge PAW Society, for whom I am fostering this little cat, suggested two litter-boxes. As luck would have it, I have more litter-boxes than I have furniture, so I filled a second box with ‘Cat-Attract’ clay litter and the next time I checked on her, Rachael had used both. She continues to do so. More than once, she waited until I scooped the refuse from a box, then immediately used it. The conclusion I drew was that Rachael is particularly fastidious; her long fur is probably a concern to her around litter, and she doesn’t want to visit a litter-box that has been used already, at least until it is scooped. She may be adjusting that attitude, considering the amounts I find in the boxes now, but I think she will continue to need two boxes. If that’s what makes her happy - and clean - there’s no harm in it.

She has also stopped wetting elsewhere, for the most part. I had been using soaker pads to cover my furniture in the parlour where Rachael stayed. She wet on one, two, even three each day. Eventually, it was decided that the pads themselves were causing her to wet outside the box, since she did so nowhere else. With bated breath, I removed the coverings that shielded my furniture from possible cat-urination and left Rachael to her devices. She did not abuse my trust. She has continued to use only the litter-boxes.

Except for one or two instances. She wet in the bath-tub during the weekend, and around the toilet in the downstairs bathroom one night. One may think that she is at least getting closer to the proper articles for waste disposal, and that if I left the toilet seat up for her, perhaps I could do away with litter-boxes all together. But no, she still has some little way to go.

But what a nice animal Rachael is. She is friendly and fun, always wanting attention. She will rub up against me, arching her back, giving a strange creaking sound instead of a meow. She loves the face-rub and to have her sides rubbed vigorously. Like Luther, she will not sit still for attention but gets up, revolves, moves, bumps, then comes back, though late at night, she will lie quietly and enjoy a constant but gentle stroking on the head. She kneads easily, her little forepaws flexing all the time.

She’s playful, preferring string toys (or just string) and, when on a cat-tree, will flip herself upside down to get at it, kicking the underside of the platform above her in her excitement. She enjoys treats but doesn’t care for Fancy Feast, which I find odd. She likes Almo, but since it is not a complete soft-food, I am trying to introduce Fancy Feast gradually, though not without much success. I would like ultimately to get her into something such as Wellness or Blue Buffalo.

I don’t think Rachael was attended to in her previous home. The fact that she and her two cat roommates were returned to the PAW Society (from which they were initially adopted) because the owners were ‘downsizing’ their pet population (including two little dachshunds) indicates the level of attachment they had to their animals. Rachael has a tremendous number of mats in her fur, which will be trimmed this week, when she goes for dental work. She adores being combed, but I'm probably the first to treat her thus. She may have been let outside on a continual basis, where her unconventional pooping needs were unknown. She is very clingy at times, and I wonder if she received much attention at all.

These characteristics indicate a cat requiring a great deal of affection and time. Rachael, like Luther, may do best as an only cat, though unlike that tough little fighter, I think there are plenty of felines with whom Rachael could be friends. Hopefully, there is someone patient enough to give her the chance of a real home that she deserves. Her current situation with me is good but insufficient for a cat who enjoys human company so much, and after the apathy she undoubtedly received in her previous home, a foster-home - or better, a permanent one - where she can receive much more attention would work wonders with this cat. Maybe a new home is just a blog-reader away...

The New Rug

I bought a new rug. The old one was good; it was second-hand, a gift from a friend who thought that I needed a rug in the sitting room. She was right. It suited the look of the room and provided a bit more warmth, which could be felt especially when I was sitting in the armchair or the couch with my feet on the floor. Even with slippers, the bare hardwood could be cool. I imagine the cats felt the same way.

However, the old rug was growing a bit discoloured. The cats had thrown up on it too many times. That was mainly due to Josie, who, when she wretches, must do so over and over, seemingly reaching back to the previous week’s meals for ammunition. And of course, she hurries to any difficult-to-clean-carpeted surface to relieve her queasiness. The final straw was when Rachael disgraced herself on the rug a few weeks ago. It wasn’t the sort that was easily picked up or cleaned.

So it was time to buy a new rug. The floor went without one for a fortnight or so. The cats didn’t care for that, especially Josie. It was not because she had no where to throw up. A determined cat will always find a spot for that. No, she liked to lie on the old rug more than the other cats did. She would flop over on to her side to encourage me to pet her, and when we played. She did that with reluctance on the bare floor.

The new rug is a little thinner than the old, but softer. The cats examined it, sat on it and lie on it. Most thought it was adequate. Josie loves it. The warmth of the floor has been restored to her. She was very active during play-time that first evening. (‘Active’ is a relative term. Josie does not run and leap and climb cat-trees while playing, as Tucker now does. My Chubs rolls about in one place - actively.) She was clearly pleased with my purchase. I am too, since it was cheaper than I had expected. And just as important, Rachael has not mistaken it for a litter-box, yet. Tungsten seems to approve and my Roly Poly likes to skid into it, folding it up like the bellows of an accordion.

It’s hardly a rug woven in the markets of Bokhara, and when it comes to things to put on the floor, my taste is mediocre at best. But the new rug has been accepted by those who will be most in contact with it, so I’m content.

I couldn’t get a picture of Renn on the new rug, so in order not to leave him out, here’s one of my Big Boy - not even on a floor...