Halloween Costume Contest

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Every year our complex has a Halloween Costume contest. It’s definitely meant for people and kids, but for the past two years we’ve entered Herbie. Hurley would be a better entry since he likes being dressed up, but Herbie is on our lease.

Last year Herbie won a free car wash gift certificate. This year he won a Target gift card. They always put his picture up in the office, somehow I don’t think he’d be happy about that. He never looks happy when we take his picture.

Hurley on the other hand likes to play dress up. We have a couple of ties we bought from Target. We were shopping for cat food, I turned around and there were the cat costumes…all on clearance. How can you say no to a tie for $1.99? We figured it’d be cute, crazy but cute. We ended up buying two of them. Last year Bob’s mom got us a Santa hat and cape. Ernie and Lucky will have no part of the ties or the Santa hats. We got Lucky to wear it for like 10 seconds last year. Jack will tolerate it for a few minutes but he’s not thrilled about it. There’s no way I’d even try to put anything on Pippi….well actually maybe I’d put a dress on her. Maybe she takes exception to the fact that we’re trying to put a tie on her.

Little Joe then and now

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We have had a lot of foster kittens. Some came with their moms, but most of them were without. Jack and Hurley’s mom turned out to be nuts, she hissed at her babies and she tried to bite Bob. She had to be removed shortly after she arrived because we were worried about her beating up her kittens. Pippi’s mom was a little better, but after about a week she got sick of being locked up with them. She shoved her face under the door and rubbed all the fur off next to her nose.

When kittens go from nursing to eating solids they have horrible soft poops. It’s just a mess; they step in it and make a huge mess. We were constantly bathing them in the sink. Even as babies they HATE the water. They grow much slower too.

We were fortunate enough to be able to foster Little Joe and her kittens. She was The Best mom ever. She LOVED her babies and never got tired of them climbing on her or nursing. It was so sweet seeing her with them, and the best part was how healthy they were. They grew so fast we barely had them two weeks and they had doubled in size. There’s a huge difference between kittens that don’t have a chance to nurse as long as necessary and kittens that have the benefit of being with their mothers. They were solid little kittens.

As much as Little Joe loved her babies, she did NOT like being locked up. I’m sure it’s tough to go from having the world as your oyster to be cooped up all day in a bathroom with five kittens. She was sad, you could see it on her face. I know, cats aren’t supposed to have emotions, but she really looked sad. Even worse was when they all went up for adoption and she was alone. She really missed them, I felt so bad for her. We brought her home after she was spayed and kept her for a few days before we set her free. It broke my heart to see how thin she was and how she’d just given up. She would hide behind the toilet and cry when we tried to pick her up. After a few days Bob finally managed to get her in the carrier, he said she cried and then just went limp. She probably thought she was going back to the shelter.

It’s taken her a few months to trust me again, she never stopped coming around. She just didn’t let me get too close. I can’t say that I blame her. She just recently started coming up to me when I call her and letting me pet her.

She’s gotten chubby. She was a frail little thing when we got her back from her spay, I think the paperwork said she was 7 ½ pounds. I’d say she’s filled out to a nice 12-14 pounds. I was petting her the other night and I realized you can’t feel her spine or ribs anymore. She seems happy again, her best friend is Zoila. They’re always together, I like to think they go shopping together or have coffee. I’m so glad we did right by her. All her kittens were spayed/neutered, got their shots and were adopted. And she won’t ever have another litter of kittens.

A gift from Little Joe

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When Little Joe first started coming around I thought she was a boy so I named her Little Joe. By the time I realized she was a girl the name had stuck and she does turn when you call her so I assume that means she sort of knows her name.

About two months ago I noticed she was pregnant. Bob and I debated this fact because she wasn’t enormous and he thought maybe she’d just put on weight. She looked pregnant to me. The gestation for cats is 60 days so I knew the clock was ticking, I really wanted to catch her and get her to the shelter before she had her kittens. Having kittens under a bush, in the dirt, can’t be fun. But Little Joe had other ideas, she had no intentions of being caught.

Last month she disappeared for a few days, when she turned up again she was skinny again. So either she miscarried or she had her kittens. We looked for them, but lets face it she’s not going to hide them in an obvious location. She came every night for dinner and I fed her as much as she could eat. When she was eating I checked her belly and it was obvious she was nursing. I kept asking her who was kitten sitting and I begged her to bring me her kittens…like she could truly understand what I was saying. Still, I hoped that she would bring them around when they got bigger. I hated the thought of more unaltered cats roaming the streets, making the problem worse. For some reason I felt obligated to help Little Joe, it’s not her fault she never got fixed. She’s a very sweet cat. Recently she’s been very affectionate. I sat down with her for about 20 minutes the other night and she was rubbing up against me and purring.

This morning I came down to the garage to leave for work. Little Joe was in the garage, which is unusual. She usually comes at night. She was very talkative, again that’s unusual for her. I thought she was hungry so I put food out, but she kept talking. I walked to my car and I noticed what I thought was Heatley (another stray we feed) in his bed. Upon further inspection I realized SHE HAD BROUGHT ME HER KITTENS. She was trying to tell me, she was SO proud of them.

We have cat beds in the garage, because we’re crazy cat people. She’d put her kittens in one of the beds. They’re too small to walk there, she had to carry them, one by one, and put them in the bed…all four of them. They’re about 3-4 weeks old (8 ounces), they do that crazy wobble walk and then fall over. This was the opportunity I was hoping for. I shut the garage door and successfully trapped her. She wasn’t happy but I really didn’t want her to take off again. I called the shelter and convinced the animal control officer to come out and get everyone. We had to net poor Little Joe; she tried to climb up the garage door. I know that’s probably not what she was expecting, but this is the best possible outcome. Now she can go into foster care with her kittens, she’ll get plenty of food and everyone is going to get checked out by the vet. When the kittens no longer need her she will go up for adoption. Everyone will get spayed or neutered and best of all, no one will be living on the streets. It felt like such a huge accomplishment, I worried about her and her kittens. Now I know everyone is safe and I offered to foster everyone.

What a little determination will do

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Since summer is rapidly approaching we decided to get the screen door fixed. The tape wasn’t working very well and the hole had gotten bigger (thanks to Hurley and Pippi sticking their heads through it) Jack was able to squeeze through the hole with no problem. He originally made the hole because he wanted the bag of bird seed that was outside, near the screen. So he picked a hole in the screen and pulled the bird seed bag through the hole, making a giant mess. When I found him and the mess he just looked at me as if to say "yes? Is there a problem?"

It was SO nice not to have a hole anymore. There was no need to worry about the duct tape covering the hole, it was wonderful. We agreed that we wouldn’t leave the glass door open without one of us supervising. We weren’t going to leave the glass door open unless one of us was in the room. Even if we went upstairs we shut the glass door, because surely Jack couldn’t pick a hole in the screen if we were WATCHING. But Jack is smarter than us, and apparently much craftier than we give him credit for.

I came home from work one day last week and Bob said “JACK DID IT AGAIN” Bob was sitting here at the computer and he heard the sound of screen ripping. He jumped up and between the time he jumped up and ran across the room Jack had ripped a new hole in the screen. Apparently Jack was so focused on the task at hand that he didn’t even look up as Bob ran across the room, yelling at him while spraying him with the water bottle. He was far too engrossed in his project to care about being sprayed in the face with water.

Everyone gives me advice on what I should do to ‘train’ Jack. The problem with Jack is he’s not afraid of anything and he doesn’t care. If he wants to do something, he’s going to do it. He’s an opportunist, he’ll just wait until we aren’t paying attention or we’re not home. He follows me around when I vacuum or steam clean the carpets, he’s INTERESTED in what I’m doing. He’s not scared of the vacuum cleaner; he wants to know how it all works. All the other cats scatter and hide under the beds…not Jack. The door bell rings and everyone scatters, but not Jack. Jack sits at the top of the stairs and greets everyone as they enter. He flinches when I spray him with the water bottle but he doesn’t STOP what he’s doing. Every once in a while he’ll walk away and find something else to do, but eventually he goes back to whatever it was he was trying to do. He doesn’t forget, I think he figures *I* will. I really believe he just decides to go back to it later, when I’ve forgotten because he WILL go back and try again. The whole screen thing was the perfect example. We saw him inspecting the screen. We KNEW it was a matter of time. We just assumed that we could prevent him from doing it if we were in the room. We underestimated him. It’s almost like he had one claw out like a razor blade and quickly made his move like a surgeon.

So now we’re right back to where we started…putting duct tape over a hole in the screen. *Sigh*

First the cat beds...now this?

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Bob found five tiny little cards right outside our front door. I put my car key next to them for a little perspective on how tiny they are. They’re the perfect size for cats….we both got a big kick out of the fact that they were practically on our porch. If I didn’t know better I’d say Pippi or Jack were hosting poker games. I know that’s not the case, but to crazy cat people it’s not that big of a stretch. They move their cat beds; they open drawers, cabinets and doors…why couldn’t they play cards?

Cats are stronger than you think

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The other morning we came downstairs and one of the cat beds was moved. Normally it lives in the corner by the fireplace, but it was sitting in front of the tv. I asked Bob why he moved it, he said he thought I moved it. We laughed but didn’t think much of it. I put it back in the corner. It was moved again yesterday. I thought for sure Jack was moving it, but we had no proof. I put the bed back in the corner thinking maybe someone would move it while we were home.

It’s cold today, so we put the fire on. I was sitting on the floor by the fire, petting everyone. Then it happened….Pippi decided to move the bed. She’s the LAST cat I would have suspected. She grabs it in her mouth and pulls it. She has to get her mouthful just right, so she chews on it for awhile before she gets the right grip. Then she tugs on it and moves it. When it’s in just the right spot she climbs in and goes to sleep.

I’ve seen Jack steal pens and pencils, we’re missing a crystal cat that used to be on the mantle and we’re pretty sure he stole it. Now I’m starting to wonder if Pippi hasn’t stolen some pens. I’ve seen her knock them off the table and the counter, but she always just left them on the floor. Maybe when we turn our back she hides them too. As I’m typing this Jack is reaching up for my keys that are just barely hanging off the edge of the bookshelf. He will eventually grab them and pull them down, once they’re on the floor they won’t be interesting anymore.

The two of them are quite a pair.

Don't feed the stray's....

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Last year when I wasn’t working this big orange cat started showing up on our door step. At first he’d just stare at me and he wouldn’t let me touch him…he just sat like a statue. We’d been putting food out for our neighbor cat and the orange boy was eating it too. So I started putting out more food for him. He got used to me and eventually he let me pet him. I named him…big mistake. *sigh* He started waiting for me every morning, I’d feed him before I went out for my run. Around early October it started getting cooler and Bob felt sorry for him so we put a cat bed out for him. It was official… Marleau started sleeping on our door step every night. I don’t know WHY but one day I fed him some wet food…again, big mistake. Marleau LOVED wet food. That’s about the time he started meowing at me and sitting on my lap. At first Bob resisted and avoided contact with Marleau, it wasn’t because he didn’t like him. Rather, it was because he didn’t want to get attached to him. It’s very stressful having an outdoor only cat. You worry if they don’t show up for dinner and if they’re going to be ok all day. Eventually Marleau won Bob over and he’d sit on Bob’s lap. He even let Bob pick him up. Around the end of October a big fat black cat started turning up. She’d sit in the bushes and cry and cry. She looked like she was in pretty good shape so I assumed she had a home, but after several days I realized she didn’t because she also started sleeping on our door step. Can you see what’s coming? I named her too, Zoila. We think Zoila is fairly old because she always has food on her face and sometimes she comes home with leaves and other crap stuck to her fur. She also trips on the water dish all the time, she sits on the dry food dishes, sometimes she trips on them and sends the dry food flying. She just has no body awareness which is unusual for a cat.

Both Zoila and Marleau have their ears tipped, which means they’re spayed/neutered and are part of a registered feral colony. I talked to the shelter about them and was told that if we brought them in they’d likely be returned to their colony. Once a cat is tipped they’re destined to be ‘feral’ and live outside. Sometimes if they can’t figure out what colony they belong to they will put them up for adoption. But more often than not they’re just returned to their colony. Which is unfortunate, but I also understand. Resources are limited and people aren’t going to be eager to adopt a cat that may be feral. However, these two are NOT feral.

Anyway, after finding out that they would just be dumped on the streets again we decided we’d keep feeding them and try to figure something else out. What’s the point in catching them and stressing them out of they are going to end up on our doorstep again? Well, I guess word got out among the stray’s because a third showed up…Little Joe. Little Joe is actually a girl, but I didn’t know that at first. Then Heatley showed up. So now we have a full blown circus on our doorstep.

It was embarrassing before when we’d go grocery shopping and the checker would ask how many cats we have. Now it’s just ridiculous. I did discover that we aren’t the only cat people out there who are also feeding random cats. While I realize we’re not NORMAL it’s comforting to know we aren’t the only ones doing this. Anyway, our worst fears came true about two weeks ago. Little Joe disappeared for a good solid week, I worried about her everyday. Then one night she came home for dinner…and I realized where she’d been. She’s pregnant. It’s fine and dandy to feed cats that are fixed, at least we’re not adding to the problem. But it’s a totally different thing when you’ve got strays that aren’t fixed. This is NOT what I had in mind when I started putting food out for Marleau. Little Joe is going to have kittens, her kittens will have kittens and so on. I’m pretty sure Heatley isn’t fixed since he’s just a kitten himself.

So not only is this arrangement expensive, but it’s stupid. We’re fortunate that the property management looked the other way as long as they did. Recently however, our neighbor complained. We loathe this guy for many reasons, he’s a total douche. Luckily the management here doesn’t think too highly of him either, and they’re pro cat. Turns out they used to feed Zoila and Marleau. We explained that we’re trying to catch them and bring them to the shelter and they said they would continue to the look the other way as long as possible.

After we received the notice to remove the cat beds and food I contacted Forgotten Felines. (They are FANTASTIC and if you ever think you might want to donate to an organization I HIGHLY recommend donating to them) link We are armed with the tools we need to start catching cats. I’m going to miss them very much, but we truthfully we should have done this a LONG time ago. Our biggest priority is getting Little Joe to the shelter ASAP. Kitten season is around the corner, she needs to get into foster care NOW. Once she has those kittens, she’ll be spayed and go up for adoption herself. The LAST thing I want is for her to have those kittens outside, under a bush. But more importantly we need to end the cycle NOW. I’m hopeful that Zoila and Marleau will find forever homes, Forgotten Felines said that since they’re tame and friendly they should go up for adoption.

Ernie's vet visit

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I sent this email to Bob back in July when I first starting taking Ernie into the vet, it struck me as funny: OMG it was a CIRCUS. I got the carrier and brought it up. Ernie was under the bed, so I pushed him out with the bat but before I could run around and grab him he went back under. I finally got him and Hurley and Pippi were in the carrier. I put Ernie down and shook Hurley out, Pippi wouldn't come out. She was growling and holding on for dear life. I took the carrier and turned it upside down and she wouldn't come out. I finally dragged her out, she was biting me and growling. Now Ernie was back under the bed. This time I left the door unlocked but closed it so no one could get in it. Ernie was more clever this time and he just kept moving to the center, he wouldn't come out. I moved the bed, he moved too. Finally I shoved the bat so he had to come out the bottom of the bed. I grabbed him, now Jack was standing on the carrier and it spooked Ernie so he started clawing me. I got Jack off the carrier and tried to put Ernie in. He was all freaked out so he braced himself and wouldn't go in. Lucky came up on the bed to see what was going on and that distracted Ernie enough so I could shove him in the carrier. *sigh*

Vet visit

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When you have six cats you can’t just load them up and take them to the vet. Well, I guess you could but it would be a huge circus, especially if you have criers…and we do. We took Lucky and Herbie together a few years ago and I thought I was going to lose my mind. It’s a short drive but feels like hundreds of miles when two cats cry the entire time, they never shut up. I thought Herbie was going to hyperventilate. Anyway, we’re fortunate that our vet will make house calls. I managed to get everyone on the same schedule which makes it a little easier, I don’t have to keep everyone’s shots straight. But it also means that six cats have to get shots…each cat gets two shots…that’s TWELVE shots.

I figured Hurley and Lucky would be the worst. The last time we put Lucky in a carrier he turned into a different cat. He growled and when we finally got him in the carrier he made horrible wild animal sounds, it wasn’t good. Getting him out of the carrier once we got to the vets office was no fun. He did NOT do well. When everyone was sick Hurley bit us both, HARD. So naturally I assumed they would be the most difficult. Lucky wasn’t happy, he growled and hissed but he didn’t bite or claw anyone. Hurley was was great, he didn’t even cry. Ernie was actually did the best out of all of them, he just took everything in stride.

Jack and Pippi were trouble. Jack FREAKED out, he hissed, growled and made that sound that cats make when they’re about to get into a fight. He also clawed the crap out of the vet. She’s a pro, she’s used to cats fighting her and he still managed to draw blood. Pippi wasn’t nearly as bad, but she hissed, growled and knocked everything on the floor when she struggled. We ended up chasing them both around the house. Bob had to burrito Pippi in a blanket. The vet pinned Jack on the floor. It strikes me as funny that the two biggest punks were the biggest babies.

I had to trick Herbie with cat treats to get him out from under the bed. I think he knows the drill because he really didn’t complain much.

When we adopted Pippi I ordered a special collar for her, she’s the only girl so I kind of went nuts. You can order rhinestone letters that get threaded onto a collar. So she has a ladybug collar with Pippi spelled out in rhinestones. It IS a little extreme for a cat, but I never even think about it anymore. The vet cracked up when she saw it and gave me a look like “are you crazy?” But girls need bling!