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Bear has a home! My husband and I drove him over 3 hours one way to deliver him to a lovely woman and her two children. He was terrified for less than a day, and is now ruling a house of three people and two boxer dogs. The youngest, a daughter, is is best buddies with him and I’ve seen many a photo of them cuddled up together. I can only share one picture for privacy reasons, but trust me, everyone is very, very happy!
Next, Elf has a home! Via Twitter I found a wonderful young couple in Belfast who fell in love with her. We met with them much closer than Belfast as they happened to be close by last weekend – it was only an hour and a half one way. Elf isn’t the same gregarious kitty that Bear is. She’s a few weeks younger, Vickie’s baby, and she hasn’t warmed to her family yet. She (and Bear) both litter trained immediately. But she is the kitten of a quite feral mom and she will take time.
Elf, with her paw on my boot on a very wet afternoon.
The bad news.
Jupiter was badly injured when I went to feed them on thanksgiving day. We can’t know how, but it’s possible he got into a car engine. His right ear was torn half off, and his back leg is broken. Since I had the day off, I caught him and took him to the SPCA veterinarian clinic right up the road. He had to have a pin put into his leg, and he is now recovering at the shelter. I can’t do any more for him but keep asking people to adopt him from there.
They have also all been sneezing, especially Dot, so I’ve been given liquid antibiotics by the vet. This meant I had to catch them by the scruff and force it into them! Not fun.
Yesterday broke me. The runt of the family, who I haven’t even named other than Little One, was screaming from a back garden over the wall. I got her to come to me, and her right front foot was swollen and looked flattened. I started to cry. The SPCA volunteer was able to come and take her to the vet as I was at work and couldn’t leave. She later told me they think it is a bad infection. She wasn’t even limping the day before so I’m not sure about that.
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The volunteer brought me a puppy cage and since it fit in my MINI, I took time after work yesterday to catch the last three babies (tuna works wonders). They are now home with me; safe, warm and well fed, if unable to run around freely.
Since they are still sneezing, I can’t let them anywhere near my boys. More antibiotics! So far I don’t think the lads know I’ve kittens, but the kittens sure heard Lumi talking! They all stood up and looked for him.
So I have, left to right, Rory, Shark, and Dot. I have a home for Shark, but it has to wait a bit. She’s (I think is a she?) really friendly! You might remember she was the first to eat from my hand. She really enjoys being petted, rubs her face on my hand, and lets me hold her.
Rory is a boy, and he was about as good as Shark when still out in the wild. He’s not happy being caged and hisses at me weakly when I go in the room. Dot is the one missing her ear, and younger than the other two, but she’s doing pretty good with being tamed, also.
So, that’s my news. Some very bad, some outstandingly good, and some both good and causing me a lot of work! I’ve cleaned that litter tray five times today…
Thank you again to everyone who donated, and one twice (Linda!). I also had a cash donation brought to me, and I was going to give it to the SPCA but I asked her if I could keep it to cover some of the food and petrol and she said absolutely yes. So we are doing well, just need homes for Rory and Dot!
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I’ve been delaying an update on Piggy, Vickie, and the SEVEN kittens, because I have hardly a thing to say.
First, the SPCA is crammed full of kittens and there is no room for my seven. It’s so sad. So much irresponsibility regarding cats in this county. If you are feeding them, maybe it’s up to you to make sure that food isn’t making more kittens? Sigh.
Well, I am feeding them, and I do feel responsible. Even though I live 20 minutes away, these are my babies.
Firstly, I had difficulty getting a cat trap. So a few days of my week off were wasted in regards to cat trapping!
I did catch Vickie on Wednesday. I thought like a cat, and moved the trap a few times to make it seem ‘safe.’ I also had to distract all the babies with food, while also making sure she knew where more food was. It didn’t quite go as planned, as she went in twice and didn’t trigger the drop down door. The third time she did, but it also caught the all black kitten, Bear.
Me, watching Vickie not-trigger the trap!
Vickie freaked right the hell out, of course. My first surprise was how quiet she was, no vocalisations at all. Just banging around trying to escape. But when I picked up the trap with her and Bear in it she bit the hell out of him, right on the back of the neck. He screamed. It was horrible! I had to let him out, somehow, and I did.
My brilliant husband came with me and drove to the vet that would do the spay on Vickie, and I am so thankful as my adrenaline was through the roof making my hands shake and my brain less than perfectly functional. It’s also super hard to find parking so no way could I deal with all at once.
The volunteer I’ve been working with took Vickie back and released her, but I couldn’t get the trap back until Friday. Himself came with me again, with high hopes.
I sort of … pushed Piggy Peggy into the trap. She’s my friend, I didn’t want to trick her too much. But it didn’t work; she immediately got out the other side and then she was mad at me. Fail. She left the area completely and we gave up.
I couldn’t even try to get Piggy again this week. I work until 6, and the vet doing the TNR closes at 4. I also give a coworker a lift home so I couldn’t stay late even if they did stay open longer.
Also, Piggy was upset with me and didn’t appear until Wednesday this week. Then it rained like hell for two days. I’ve still been feeding the babies of course.
Yep, seven. Didn’t this start with four? I’m thinking four are Peggy’s, and a bit older, and the other five are Vickie’s. Bear, Shark, and Jupiter are definitely Peggy’s kids. It’s so hard to tell the other ones apart.
I’ve been playing with them as well, and between the cheese and the toy, I get Elf, Shark, and Jupiter climbing up my legs. Touching is still iffy, but today I managed to get in some full-hand strokes, not just a finger on the back. The shy ones play by themselves after they eat, but the named ones stick by me.
Cheese please?
I was also given some wormer, seen here. Hoping those fat bellies are my good food and not worms. But it’s likely worms.
Today wasn’t so good. I heard a lot of sneezing. Peggy came up and didn’t want cheese, she only wanted to sit on the blanket beside me. I eventually got her to eat a little bit, but she definitely did not feel good. I rang the TNR vet and I can pick up some antibiotics tomorrow to put in the food. I hope they eat it. I also hope I can catch Peggy.
This whole experience has been harder than I thought, and scary, and stressful. I’m super happy I have Vickie spayed now but so much more needs done. I’d still love some donations for the SPCA, they might take the babies if room opens up.
I didn’t take many pictures. I was too involved with watching them interact and simply being at peace, with no time clock ticking in my head saying I had to go. I’m not one of those people who feel as if a phone has to be in my hand to record real life instead of experiencing it myself.
I have fallen in love with the goopy-eyed one, and have named him Jupiter. He looks so much better now! Maybe it was finally getting some nutritious food that helped him heal. He is definitely a he: I was able to get a cheeky sneak peek under his tail yesterday!
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So, I’m worried for them and a bit sad that I can’t see them until Tuesday, when the rescue operation will take place.
And… I think I counted a seventh kitten yesterday! I’m now thinking maybe some of these babies are Vickie’s? Some of them look smaller and are definitely more timid than the rest. Vickie is so skittish that I can’t tell if she is nursing or not. I’m very sure Piggy Peggy does not have seven teats ‘on the go’, as she lets me rub her belly!
It makes sense if some are Vickie’s. Explains how there were four, then five, six; now seven… please don’t let there be more in hiding!! I’m starting to feel underprepared, and a bit unsure. I must remember I have all week, with no time pressure, and Peggy (and I’m hoping Vickie also) can be spayed and returned in just a few days. Any kittens still hiding will be okay as long as I put food in places that are within close proximity to hiding places.
I can do this.
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Oct25
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I finally have the timing right: I know Piggy isn’t pregnant right now, I know where all of her kittens are and one teenager.
I also have all of next week off work! The Halloween stars have aligned to allow me to get them all help.
Look how close they will come now! My big steel-toe boot is right there.
I’ve been in contact with the county SPCA, which is very local. They are even aware of a colony directly across the main road. Likely it is a colony founded by one of Piggy’s daughters from a previous year, who has set up over there after surviving the crossing.
It’s the perfect time to stop this nonsense, give these babies a good life, and keep any more from being born and raised in the bushes beside a very busy warehouse.
It’s even more urgent as one of them has bad eyes. Bad eyes, but is also the friendliest and bravest kitten of the six.
I’m in love. Over and over again, I’m in love. Oh, with this little face especially.
Here is where I beg. Please, if you can, donate to help these lovely babies find forever homes.
We are also going to get Piggy Peggy (and hopefully Vickie) spayed and returned. They will keep their territory clear of other feral cats, and this is definitely Peggy’s turf. I am of course tempted to bring her home with me, but my boys are indoor only and so very bonded that she would have to spend most of her time outside in a strange place. What with my neighbour cat very decidedly, and violently, thinking this whole estate is her territory, it would be bad for them both. Of course if I can find Peggy a safer place I will be sad to lose my friend, but happy for her new, safer, life. As it stands, she knows very well how to be safe where she is. I won’t ever stop caring for her. If she looks ill or has parasites I will be there. Vickie… is very feral. In a few years I might tame her like I did Peggy. But it’s going to take a lot of time.
The SPCA is no-kill. If any of these kittens are seriously ill, there might be a problem to deal with at that point. First is to catch them, veterinarian check them, and get them used to humans more than my meagre attempts. They are young enough that there is lots of hope to tame them before it is too late.
So please, if you can, donate via PayPal by emailing it to my blog email. No matter how much it is, it helps. We need help, and it is such a burden on shelters to take in these unloved ones, give them health care, and find them homes.
I fed them under the bushes so they wouldn’t get rained on too much. I got wet of course!
Something is wrong here…
Ah, no!
One two three four five … six. Six kittens now? I swear they are multiplying.
Six. Sigh. This gets worse every day. Except… look how close I am to them all. That’s very good! I stroked the ones who let me, but I move slowly and quietly and try not to hover my hand or arm overhead as that scares them.
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Oct23
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The first thing PP did to surprise me involved an elderly turkey sandwich.
Vickie came to see me first, and I was tossing bits of turkey and cheese her way (I didn’t need a lunch, right? It was a couple days old anyhow). She wouldn’t come close to me at all. Eventually Piggy showed up, came to me, sat beside me, got some loving and some cheese, and then she went to sniff the bread, which I’d left on the ground next to me, thinking they wouldn’t have any interest in it.
Piggy picked up half the bread (French loaf type), took it over to Vickie and dropped it, then gave a “momma cat call.” She was calling her teenager over and saying, “Hey! You missed this. Look, it’s got butter on it! Eat it, dummy! That weird big cat over there has good stuff, and you can trust her.”
Well, I was gobsmacked. Even more so when Piggy took the other half off into the bushes. I knew it was for the still-hidden kittens. Wow!
In the middle of this, the tomcat showed up. I’m calling him Big Boy. He’s honestly not that big, as he’s mostly floof.
He was stalking Vickie and looked like big trouble. I was about to get in between them when someone left the parking area making lots of scary car noise, and everyone scattered. Whew, right?
Big Boy came back a few days later, and as above, he perched on a wall. I got closer and closer until I was about a meter and a half away before he fled.
He is gorgeous. He has the lightest ice blue eyes, and faint orange/red colour on his face. He’s also filthy as hell on his belly and feet, poor lad. This was taken on the 17th. I was assuming he was trouble for the kittens, especially after Piggy growled at him during the ‘stalking.’
Backtracking a bit to the 15th, when the kittens started popping through the fence to get food.
The all black one was first. He was brave. I’m assuming he, for no reason whatsoever. So there we have black kitten, Piggy Peggy, and Vickie.
Yum yum yum!
I’m using those bright blue bowls on purpose – a visual cue that food can be found inside.
This Monday Vickie was right there when I called, even before Peggy. Then three wee ones popped through the fence. The black one, and two B&W ones.
Vickie is still very scared, so has run to be safe behind the fence. At this point, the kittens are warming to me via the blue bowl of noms. This also tells me that Vickie is being a good aunt to these babies by helping keep them warm and guarding them. They trust and follow her.
Piggy Peggy shows up and we do our usual cuddle greeting. I get a second bowl so she can eat, too.
Then… Big Boy arrives. I get tense as I know male cats kill kittens sometimes. He goes to the now-empty first bowl. The kittens have moved to the closer one to steal from momma.
Piggy…doesn’t care?
What is going on here?
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Big Boy is actually sharing it with the kittens. Piggy isn’t worried at all. I’m baffled.
He actually turns away and stops eating to let the wee ones have their fill. Exactly the way Peggy and Vickie do.
All this time I’m sitting quite still and trying to remember to talk to the cats, getting them used to my sounds and calls so they associate my voice with food. I’m also checking to see if Big Boy is deaf like so many white cats – he isn’t. But he does have a raging case of ear mites; I can see the dirt they leave. Yuck.
He backs off when I get more food. He actually sits to the side and proceeds to groom himself. I’m thinking he’s pretty comfortable with me if he can do that.
I’m feeling sorry for Peggy who has given all her food to the babies. Still trying to get them closer to me, I fill the closer bowl. That’s when I get to touch two of kittens! They came at a run to momma’s call. I gave them gentle strokes on the head and back, one finger only, while they ate even more.
These are the two I made contact with. The all black one, and one of the black and whites. I think my efforts are paying off and I’m taking the feral out of them with Piggy’s help.
I’m only up to Monday. I have more!
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Something has changed in Piggy Peggy in the year I didn’t see her. Now that I’m back at work again, she has clearly missed me and is showing it in some very surprising ways.
It was obvious that she had recently weaned another litter of kittens when I first saw her again, in April. She had the remnants of milk still, the poor thing. Soon, I found missing fur on the back of her neck and initially thought it was mange. It was not. The baldness was from mating. Cats aren’t very romantic.
Soon Peggy disappeared for long weeks. I knew she’d had more babies.
Six, I thought. Piggy Peggy, a mostly black teenage daughter from the spring I’m calling Vickie, and four kittens, one all black and the rest black and white. Then I spotted what I believe is a male teenager, all black. Seven, Then I met who I expect is daddy Tomcat, pure white and stunning. Eight. Then I saw a fifth kitten! Nine. Oh no, no no.
Piggy and Vickie.
For now there are nine. I say for now, because I’ve seen two dead black and white cats in the road across from this house. How many have died there that I didn’t see? It could be dozens by now. I saved just one, Iggy (who is still happy and healthy and beloved). But he cost me a lot of money. If she is having at least 4 kittens 3 times a year… this is awful. They die. They die horribly.
At the same time, it’s amazing to see them interacting. And also how my efforts to make friends are working, but it’s Piggy Peggy who is the one teaching not only her kittens, her teenager, but me.
She kept me away, and kept them away and safe as a good momma does. But they are bounding about now and exploring, and I am not making this up but she is trying like hell to teach the little ones, and her teenage daughter, that I am safe. I am honoured.
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Next post is about how she is educating her babies, including Vickie, and some surprises.
More out front hot mess. I took this because I’m in love with a grass for the first time.
My raspberries. I had four plants to start with. Enough said.
The Not-Sweet-Pea. It is perennial, and I fight every year to get it to grow up, not down. I think I finally won, and managed to make it stand up!
Pots? I got pots. Thankfully the car is small so I can take up half the driveway with potted plants.
Another rose corner.
This used to be grass. An older picture as the Not-Sweet-Pea is big, but not in bloom yet.
Looking the other direction from the previous picture, in the same strip that used to be grass beside the driveway.
So there you go, some wider views of my plants. Imagine if I had a large garden!
I’ll leave you with a new favourite (in close up, of course).
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Jul3
Tick Talk
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Ticks.
Not a critter I ever saw in Florida, and only once in Ohio.
Saw one in Ireland, in May, in a forestry planted forest. I can’t recall when, but it was probably ten years ago.
Himself and I went out foraging for mushrooms at the end of May; no luck, but I did find a tick on my belly a few hours later. I felt a small bump and figured it was a cat-scab (Lumi does like to make biscuits on all of my parts when he is feeling cute). I tried to scratch it off, it didn’t go, I tried harder, no luck. Tried really hard and it made a sound when it came off, a pop. Well hell I know scabs don’t make popping sounds! Yep, a wee tick, and I took it off by accident in the worst way. In any case, it was off, and I’m fine.
Now we all have an awareness ticks are about and local, right?
Fast forward to this week. Himself and I are about to go to bed. He is looking at something on the kitchen floor I cannot see (took my glasses off). ”
Figuring it’s a bit of food or something the animals have done (poo, puke, who knows), I grab a napkin and pick it up.
It is a huge, huge, squashed tick. Blood everywhere. Interestingly, it is still quite red, not the black or very dark brown of digested blood.
“Huh. It’s a dead smashed tick. Must have come off the dog? How did it get smushed?” I look at my bare feet. One is clean, one is covered in tick-dog blood in little round spots. So is most of the kitchen floor.
“Dammit.”
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