Brazil's Golden Opportunity

A big day is approaching. Brazil will be going on a trial-adoption.

This will be very frightening for little Shimmer, and a shock, as he is now quite comfortable at the Cosy Apartment. He knows its routines and the personalities of its inhabitants. He has a playmate and a snooze-buddy.

But this is Brazil’s golden opportunity. The people he is going to meet understand that he is a very, very shy cat, and will likely hide for weeks. They are prepared for that. The rescue-group has spent hours with them, and they may be in contact with me to learn more about Brazil. They have had their eye on him for some time, and have read his profile on the group’s website several times, even noticing when some changes were made to it. They have two cats, one an older fellow who simply wants to be left alone, and the other a young feline who very much wants a friend and playmate. In terms of human and animal, this is the best chance Brazil will get.

I dislike this part of fostering. It isn’t so much for me that I dislike it, though I will miss this long and lean beast. In truth, I would probably keep Brazil, and spare him the confusion and fear of a new change, but he is quite hard on Imogen, and that won’t change. Imo is constantly on guard against Brazil rushing at her. As well, there are an infinite number of cats waiting for foster-homes. If a family would like to have Brazil as a member, then he must take that chance.

I have given a great deal of advice to be passed on to the family regarding Shimmer and how to behave toward him. I think that if they follow the pattern I established here, he will come around to them as he did with me. In fact, if the model of previous shy foster-cats holds true for him, he will overcome his timidity sooner than the time it took for him here. Hector (another cat I wouldn’t have minded adopting) was also shy at first, but surprised his adopter with how brave he was in his new environment. Portia (curmudgeonly, rather than shy) also responded much better in a new home after time with me. (I’m starting to think that after me, these cats view a new start as a relief…)

No date has been fixed for the trial to begin. Because Brazil is difficult to put in a carrier, he will go to the veterinary first, and then straight to his new home. (He is not suffering from any malady, but he needs his booster-shots, and it wouldn’t hurt to give him a medical once-over prior to his journey.) This will require timing, as both the doctor and the new family need to be ready for Brazil on the same day, and I must be able to get him into his carrier soon enough so as not to keep him waiting in there long but not so soon as to forego a second attempt if my first at capture fails.

Brazil is a complicated fellow.

But once in his new world, I am confident that he will come to trust his the people there as he does me, given time and patience. With those two qualities, much can be achieved for a cat.

A Family Portrait

As with Astrid’s kittens, I won’t continue to relate the lives of Emori and her offspring on this blog; you can follow their - and others’ - searches for permanent homes on the rescue group’s Facebook page if you wish. But since they hadn’t presented a good opportunity for a family portrait before now, I thought I would include this: mum Emori and her six little kittens (one of whom seems headed for a career in professional wrestling: if he pins his sibling to the mat for three seconds, he wins…)

A Matter of Perspective

Cats are funny creatures. Each reacts differently to a stimulus. I recall holding Tucker up to the kitchen window. We would look out together and talk about things. I tried that with Aurora – a much lighter burden to bear, I can tell you – and the result was quite different.

She was fascinated by all that she saw but she saw it a little distortedly. She watched as a car pulled out of the parking lot behind the retail business across the alley. As the vehicle turned to face us head-on – though eighty yards or so away – Auro panicked. I had to put her down.

The next day, I held her at the window again, and she was astonished by the leaves fluttering past, by the birds on the lawn. Then she observed someone walking toward the building. The individual was some distance away but, as with the car, Aurora seemed not to take proximity – or the lack of it – into account. She panicked again and, when I put her on the floor, hurried off.

It may be a kitten quality; perhaps it has to do with vision at that age or simply an inability to determine space. Maybe she knows full well how far away something is, but just isn’t taking chances with anything catching her. It’s interesting, in any case, how she interprets the view, especially when compared to other cats’ perceptions. Considering this little one’s character, I have a feeling Aurora will be looking at things unusually for most of her life.

Plenty

Today is Thanksgiving Day, a day which we set aside to be especially grateful for the good things in our lives. It corresponds to the ancient harvest festivals that almost every culture has, or had; they, too, were occasions of gratitude for good crops, and the amounts that were taken in.

I usually write on this day that I am thankful for all the things I have in my life, and indeed, I am. But I was thinking earlier of a specific example. One day last week, I had not decided what to have for dinner that evening. The choices were adequate and nutritious, but, to be honest, rather bland and unexciting. Then I realised that they were choices. Many people in the world – considering Earth’s population and the poverty prevalent upon the planet, it may be most of the people – don’t have choices in what to eat, and some of them don’t have anything to eat, period.

My table never looks like that illustrated (though, thanks to a kind friend’s invitation to dinner yesterday, my early Thanksgiving meal came very close; another reason to be grateful) but, to hundreds of millions of my fellow humans, it may as well look like it every night. Whenever I am hungry, I am in a position to eat, and my hunger will be assuaged. That is a remarkable statement to make. How fortunate am I to be able to fill my stomach whenever I wish, and with a selection of foods, if I so desire?

Once again, then, I find myself astonished at my good luck. I have a home and food; I have resources with which to care for my cats; I have the likelihood of more of this to come. These statements alone should make me grateful, and they do.

Another Birthday to Report

Readers may recall an entry on this blog about Emori, a young cat taken in by the rescue-group to which I belong. She had three kittens with her, and was pregnant with another litter. In the wee hours of Wednesday morning, she gave birth. Six tiny babies survived; one did not. (This is similar to Astrid’s situation - readers may go to the entry for May 25 for the first mention of this pregnant girlcat I trapped right outside my apartment: one of the five offspring she birthed was stillborn.)

It was a difficult time for Emori. She is less robust than Astrid, and had more kittens to produce. The sixth starting coming out backward, and his poor mum didn’t have the energy to do any more. The two foster-guardians, awake through the whole night, gently eased the kitten out over several minutes, and made certain that he was breathing. They then hastened Emori and her babies to the emergency veterinary hospital, but the last kitten could not be saved.

All the kittens who lived are doing well. There are four girls (two black (one with a white mark on her tummy), a tortoiseshell and a tabby) and two boys (one orange and one black); they all weigh either 0.14 or 0.15 kilograms (a third of a pound), and, though the orange boy had trouble finding mum’s feeding station and had initially to be fed by syringe, all are now drinking up nutrition as they should.

Emori is very much under-weight at 3.11 kilograms (6.86 pounds). That is a small cat to have been carrying seven kittens; it is no wonder she didn’t have the strength to push any more after the fifth – and this was after a month of fattening up with as much food as she wanted. Between her thinness, her injury (she is missing a foot) and the difficult births, it is unlikely that she would have survived on her own, and therefore the kittens would have perished, too.

But now all are in the best of hands. If mum isn’t giving enough milk, it will be supplemented and, of course, Emori will continue to have as plenty of food. Their general health will be watched, and they have ready access to veterinary care. It’s a good weekend on which to be thankful.

My Impending Heart Attack

Imogen is a pretty relaxed cat much of the time. But she is also still a youngster, three or four years old, and in very good health. She has bursts of energy. I hope to capture her some day on video while playing, when she leaps and pounces, twists and turns. Sometimes, though, she simply runs.

Yesterday, she had a bolt of energy that she needed to release. Miss Silky knows no rules at such times. She rocketed into the kitchen, jumped onto the stove - which is alarming in itself, as I had just finished heating food in a pot there - missing the elements, ran onto the ledge under the window, ascended without effort to the top of the kitchen cabinets, shot across their length, flew down to the dining table - on the top of which she is, as with the stove, not permitted, by the way - dropped to the floor again and fired herself through the corridor to the bedroom. This was accomplished in about three seconds.

The initial black blur startled me as I was at the kitchen counter, risking a burn on the stove frightened me, banging onto the tabletop worried me; the whole exercise left me short of breath, frankly.

I am pleased that Imo is fit and exuberant enough to achieve all these things. It shows a happy and well animal. But I wish she could provide some warning at such times…

This Is Just a Test

I had to conduct a test with Brazil over the weekend. Because he is so timid, there was no certainty of being able to put him in a carrier if it was required. He will definitely have to go to the veterinary some day, and, thinking positively, he may have the exciting trip to a new home to make in the future. As well, there is always the possibility that he and the other beasts will need to be evacuated in an emergency. These made it necessary that I know that I could put him in a carrier.

Unlike my other cats, I couldn’t simply lift Mr Shimmer and insert him into the box. He doesn’t like being carried; indeed, he dislikes even being held right now. He does, however, submit to being petted and stroked along his back. I think he may even enjoy it. Unfortunately, that is the only time I can seize him for transport. I can, now, usually persuade him to stop what he is doing and accept some pets. This day, as I was petting him, scruffed him and moved him slowly toward the carrier that had been sitting on the floor for several days. I moved him a few feet at a time.

Brazil resisted a little but the scruff did what it was supposed to and, though he was not entirely immobilised, he struggled too little to wriggle free, and I was able to put him into the carrier and shut the door quickly behind him.

He was annoyed, to say the least. I didn’t keep him there long. The test was to make sure he could be incarcerated, not to determine how long he could be in there. I let him out a minute later. His tail was poofed and he was angry and frightened.

Yet, half an hour later, he allowed me to pet him again, and I could have grabbed him a second time then. I believe that this little fellow, as extremely shy as he is, wants to trust someone, wants to have a human of his own, and so is willing to put up with periodic betrayals.

When Shimmer needs to go somewhere, such as a veterinary hospital, I will bring the carrier out again days in advance and open it, ready for his insertion. At any time, I will have only one chance for a half-hour or more, and in an emergency, the tension may be palpable to him, so it will be essential that this test be conducted. Now, I know I can do it without help. Neither of us will like it - indeed, I regretted it greatly this weekend - but it will be achieved if the situation demands it.

Such are the sometimes distasteful duties of being a cat’s guardian.