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.

One Down

This is Tiffany. The lighting is bad, and she’s not at her best, but it’s Tiffany. She belongs to a former neighbour of mine who, like most of the tenants in my building, has moved to a less expensive rental. Tiffany was an inside/outside cat and wouldn’t come home before her human had to move. But she continued to haunt the building and, when she realised that no one was any longer in her former home, she started coming to my place, knowing that there was food to be had. I added her to the list of cats I needed to trap. I caught her last night. A generous acquaintance drove her soon after to her human. Tiffany quickly joined her perpetually shy sister under the bed. She will be well.

Now, on to the hard-cases…

Neville's Next Chapter

Neville went to the doctor today. He had been off his food for some time, and had been vomiting too much. Even Cerenia was less effective than it usually is. The poor fellow threw up in the carrier during the trip – that had, I suspect, nothing to do with his physical condition – and pooped on the examining table. The Nevsky is not really a brave cat.

The examination went well. Nev has lost a little weight (7.17 kilograms to 6.85) but that was over almost a year. I ordered an extensive – and expensive – array of tests; he had not had much done this year. The results of the fructosamine test, which measures blood-sugar over the previous fortnight, won’t be available for a couple of days. But the blood tests yielded much of interest.

The doctor said that at first glance, Neville appeared in great danger, since almost all indicators were out of their safe-zones. But upon closer examination, it could be seen that he is just over, in almost every case.

His red and white blood cell count made the veterinary “very happy”. The urea is slightly elevated, and while total protein is a little above normal, and might have come from a slight inflammation, this too was “not a worry”. Nev’s blood-glucose today was very high, but that was expected. Cholesterol was up, but that’s typical for a diabetic cat.

It was when the liver came under scrutiny that indications became more significant. The liver was labouring under a very heavy workload, which is not bad in itself, but might be due to “spill over” from the pancreas. That organ’s elevated numbers suggested that it was “irritated”; though pancreatitis is not suspected, it might be a cause of Neville’s vomiting.

What the doctor thinks may be the problem is hyperthyroidism. Though its numbers were barely above normal, the top half of ‘normal’ is regarded as a possible problem in many cats. In other words, being just above normal is actually quite high. Neville may be in the early phases of hyperthyroidism, the symptoms of which also fit diabetes. It can also affect the g.i. tract, food absorption, the rate of food digestion. The most intriguing aspect of this is that if Nev has hyperthyroidism, and it can be brought under control, most of his other troubles will also diminish, including the ineffectiveness of insulin on his diabetes.

I will be collecting some Methimazole tomorrow, and start the Nevsky on his new treatment. After three or four weeks, his T4s will be tested again. If they are back to the safety line, his other ailments may follow suit. There is no certainty to all of this, but it is something viable to try, something that may have a real effect, other than just adjusting insulin levels.

In the meantime, Neville came home, had a good meal, and a well-earned rest. Tomorrow begins his new chapter.

My Adversaries

Operation Creamsicle is working each evening and weekend afternoon. The traps have attracted all four of the cats I am trying to capture (Arliss, Cicero, Sable and my former neighbour’s beast) but have closed on none.

Sable has come the closest to being caught. Lured by the bait of sardines and Temptation Treats, Sable entered the traps thrice, but not far enough to step on the trigger. I watched her each time; she entered, then turned and scurried out, as if warned by instinct not to venture further. It may be experience, a memory of being trapped years ago, after which she was spayed and returned to her feral colony.

Though the bait is good, I may need something still stronger, something to overpower Sable’s caution. I will be buying some catnip tomorrow.

Time – and these animals’ intelligence - is not on my side.

Her Adaptations

The closed door to the library has continued to force Indigo to explore more of the apartment, and to do things she hasn’t done before. Witness her penetration to the far reaches of the sitting room, in order to watch a magpie (just visible through the blinds on the left), and her climb to the top of the taller sitting room cat-tree.

I was worried that being locked out of her preferred room would hurt Indie’s relationship with me, since she enjoyed spending time with me in the library, where she would lie next to me. It was then and there that she would receive her insulin injections. But I am still able to give her medicine, though it requires a little more preparation and finesse at times and, best of all, she’s found a substitute to lying next to me. I think this is my favourite new behaviour.

Happy To Be a Friend

This video is, unfortunately, quite dark; the lighting in the library is bad. But it does get the idea across: Moxy is a very friendly cat. I’m known to him only as the human who caught and had him neutered in May, and the human who trapped him and incarcerated him in two rooms now. Yet he shows me each time we are together that he likes me. He’s a naturally happy boy. If you can hear him, you will note that his purrs are so gravelly that they sound like growls. However, once having had all the outdoors in which to roam, he is finding one room restrictive. After he visits the veterinary on Tuesday, he will have more freedom.

For now, he will have to contain his happiness.

Not All Disarrangements Are Bad

I slept better last night, since Moxy was quiet. He started yelling when I had to get up in the middle of the night - a severe cramp in the calf of a leg - but he reverted to silence soon after. He continues to show himself a very friendly fellow, with enough force behind his desire to rub up against a person to knock the person over. He is eating well, though he has pooped only once since the weekend. That may not be cause for worry yet, as he is consuming only soft food. He has a doctor’s appointment scheduled for Tuesday; there appears to be nothing wrong with him - no old scars or injuries from being outside, a chipped tooth but no bad breath, moderate softness to his fur - so the veterinary visit will be a general examination.

The closing of the door to the library has wrought some unexpected changes among the residents, especially Indigo, who is the most affected. Bereft of her usual haunt, she is checking out what the rest of the apartment has to offer, though its space is itself limited with filled boxes. She is curling up on a cushioned dining room chair, and resting in the hall near the front door. I have still been able to deliver her insulin injections, which previously required her to be lying next to me.

She is marginally less annoyed with the proximity of other cats, and has found a new spot in the cylinder-house cat-tree, which she has never visited priorly. This led to a startling episode when Imogen, who likes to jump up to the top of the cylinder, realised that her rival was within, and bounced off the tree as fast as she had arrived on it. No cat was injured in the making of the stunt, however.

Because Indigo sometimes picks on Neville, I have put him in the bedroom with Imo when I leave for work (Imogen and Brazil still go at it from time to time). The Nevsky is more affected by altercations with Indie than is Brazil, so incarceration in the bedroom relaxes him.

On the subject of Shimmer, he is more agile than Nev and, though made more cautious by Indigo’s animosity, is not overly bothered by it, so he stays out with the masked one. His agility may have served him well yesterday, since I came home to this scene.

One other change that Indie probably felt strongly is in the matter of litter-boxes. She had been aware of other boxes in the apartment, but has not before used them. I came home to find a puddle of urine in a shallow box - fortunately, not one that I needed for moving (I’d hate to waste a good box) - and I suspect it was Indigo. I watched her last evening, sniffing out the various boxes to which she had access; I have placed for now a triangular extra box in the bathroom. She eventually used two different boxes, for both wetting and pooping. After being used to your own washroom, it’s tough to have to resort to the general lavatory that everyone else uses.

I think Indie misses the times when I would sit on the library couch and she would join me for some snuggles. But to compensate, she spent almost the whole night on the bed with me - on the opposite side from a disgruntled Imogen. Even when I had to get out of bed at about 2.30, Indigo remained where she was, waiting for my return. She purred while next to me, which was nice to hear. I hope this becomes a habit with her.

So far, Moxy’s influence has actually been of benefit. We’ll see if that continues when he meets everyone…

The Unrested

This is Moxy. Moxy is not happy. Moxy was not happy all night.

Moxy belonged to a former resident of my apartment building. Along with most of the tenants, he moved out. His cats were inside/outside. I and a friend were able to catch two of them, and they are with my erstwhile neighbour in his new home; one is still missing, and the fourth is Moxy. The man doesn’t really want Moxy, and was reluctant to take him. So Moxy is staying with me until he finds a foster-home or is adopted.

One of the problems Moxy’s owner had was that Moxy was wetting outside the litter-box. During the short period he had to stay in a room in the former owner’s empty apartment, he used the litter-box provided. He initially wet in an empty litter-box, which was a good compromise, I think. I took what he had left there and dribbled it into the litter of the box he was meant to use. Since then, and continuing into the Cosy Apartment, Moxy has been hitting the right target each time, even pooping there, and this with litter with which he was unfamiliar. The other problem Moxy allegedly had was that he was beating up on his feline roommates. How he really behaves among other beasts is yet to be determined.

He is actually a very friendly fellow. He knew me for less than a day - and I was the person responsible for trapping him at that - and was already rubbing up against me and asking for pets. He was easier to get into a carrier than most of may own cats. He clearly was someone’s cat before he was lost or abandoned, and ended up an outside/inside cat with my neighbour. His new restriction of habitat was probably the reason for him crying continuously - not just continually - all night. He also destroyed the blinds in the library: actually tore the metal strips into pieces. But he used the litter-box…

Meanwhile, Indigo is dispossessed of the library. She no longer needs it as a safe-room, but likely feels annoyed at being kept out. At three o’clock, she climbed to the top of the kitchen cabinets and started knocking off the recyclable jugs and bottles stored there. Fortunately, I’d been awake for four hours anyway, so this did not trouble me…

My efforts to capture Moxy’s missing sister have met with failure. I caught two more raccoons last night. They were evidently more frightened than their brother whom I caught the previous night, for they crapped all over the traps. I will be spending my evening cleaning them. The traps, I mean. The raccoons are on their own.

And I’m still moving.