About a month after Ernie was gone Bob started asking about adding an ‘orange boy’ to the family. I said no, but I knew eventually I’d cave. It didn't happen right away, but a few months later we ended up taking Winston home. He's an odd little man, but very sweet like all orange cats are. He worships Squirt, we call them Thing One and Thing Two or Dumb and Dumber.
Of course Winston has a story. One afternoon a lady brought a litter of orange kittens into the shelter. Three females and two males, the boys had pretty bad eye infections. The lady that rescued them later told me the mother is VERY feral and she was afraid to let her keep the kittens too long. So she snatched them as quickly as she could. She got the first male when he was only a few weeks old. Over the course of the following weeks she managed to get them all. She bottled fed everyone until they were older and then brought them to us. Because they were so little when she grabbed them she thought they hadn't yet opened their eyes. By the time she realized they had eye infections it was too late. The two males were blind in one eye. I knew immediately we would end up with one of the males. A blind orange boy? Come on! Who could resist? Orange females are rare so I knew they’d get snapped up right away.
I think the funniest development is that Squirt & Winston torture Pippi mercilessly. I guess karma is a bitch, all those years she tormented Ernie are coming back to haunt her. No one ever gets hurt and there's very little actual contact. She hasn’t figured out that if she didn’t react they would leave her alone. She growls like a feral cat, it escalates to those horrible cat fight screaming noises and then she runs off, with them close behind. She typically hides under the bed so Winston & Squirt sit patiently next to the bed waiting for her to come out. If either one of them pokes their head under the dust ruffle she growls.
One night I was sitting on the bed with Winston. Pippi was under the bed and Squirt was sitting on the floor. Squirt kept picking at the dust ruffle which enraged her. All of a sudden I saw this gray paw pop out and essentially punch Squirt in the face. It’s all just an act because they often sleep together.
The ‘Outside Cats’ have also changed. In late September Marleau got sick and had to be put down. He must have been sick for awhile but he didn’t show it. The vet said he most likely had cancer or kidney failure. Neither had a good outcome and she recommended we euthanize him. It was very sad but I’m thankful we were able to make his life a little better for his last years. More than anything it makes me want to end the cycle of feral cats, he shouldn’t have spent most of his life under a bush or hungry. The average life of a feral cat is approximately 2 years. We think Marleau was roughly 8, but he spent almost 4 years living in our garage.
Anyway, shortly after Marleau left us I managed to trap a Siamese tom cat that I suspect was the father of Little Joe’s litter. The vet said he had the biggest set of noodicles he’d ever seen on a cat! He was less than thrilled about his transformation; in fact he was FURIOUS at the shelter. We had him a feral cage and he TRASHED it. He was like popcorn in the carrier on the way home. I let him out and thought I wouldn’t see him again…haha. George started coming around about 6 weeks after his surgery. At first Little Joe smacked him in the head and growled at him. He just stood there taking it, guess he knew he should have called! Everyone has settled in now, George, Zoila and Little Joe are always together. The three best friends….
As I said George initially was very feral. I had to sneak up on him when he was eating in order to pet him. Eventually though George and I got acquainted over a huge abscess he had under his arm. It was bad; he smelled bad and looked even worse. I figured he would either bite me or we’d be best friends. Not only did he let me give him a shot of antibiotics, but he let me put hot compresses on it and squeeze the pus out. We did that every night for about a week. He’s a good boy and he takes antibiotics easily and is smart enough to know I’m helping him. Since that first abscess he’s injured his tail and had a second abscess on his head. I didn’t notice the one on his head right away, but he actually showed it to me. He kept lowering his head when I was petting him. I thought he had tree sap on his head, once I started trying to clean him up I realized he was infected again. I wish he would stop fighting but I think he’s hard wired for it now, I don’t know how old he is but he was intact for a long time..old habits die hard.
Right now our grand total is ELEVEN cats. I’m responsible for 11 cats in one way or another.
