Still here, Still herding

2010

WOW!!

I'm still surrounded by a herd of my brother's cats mixed with a few of mine (the boys don't mind fraternizing, but the old ladies get picked on by a few of Dick's "old boys", so they avoid contact whenever possible), and haven't had anyone adopted recently. The fraidy cats have become noticeably less afraid of living with me, and Honey, the dog; I'm not sure how they would react to a new face in the house, but they would probably run and hide. I'm hoping, however, that they would adjust to a new person more quickly now after getting used to me. They're getting more used to vacuum cleaners and big scary things in my hands (really only sacks of litter or food or other essentials, but some of them used to react like I was wearing a gorilla suit and threatening them with a tommy-gun), and I get to pet all of them a little and almost all of them quite a bit. Some of them demand attention and petting/scratching, and that includes the two formerly outdoor feral "kittens" - they're going to be 2 years old this July. Time flies -- whether we're having fun or not.



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One Year Later...

One year ago today, I started caring for my brother's cats.

My brother, Dick, was hospitalized after I took him to the ER for pain. After tests were run, he was diagnosed with terminal multiple myeloma and died from respiratory complications after a few weeks.

A year ago, I walked into his home and experienced the thunder of frightened cats scattering in many directions. Those that knew me well soon came back up to me and inquired as to the day's menu, while others hid under a bed, an armoire, a sofa, a table, or hid inside cabinets and closets.


When I put the food out, most came to eat or at least investigate, but some waited until I left the area before they darted to the bowls. I had no idea how many cats there were, I didn't know all their names, and I wasn't sure about which ones still needed to be spayed/neutered. I also didn't realize that I was going to be caring for many of them for a long time, and for all of them for months.

Today, all the cats that hadn't been altered are spayed/neutered. Today, some are living in new homes - as family or as guests waiting for adoption with a family. A dozen are living with me and my original cats and dog.

When I touch or simply look at each one by itself, I see a beautiful, fascinating creature. When I look at all of them together, I see a herd of willful critters that have changed the living conditions of my own cats, my dog, and especially me.

Some changes are for the good -- my shelter dog, Honey, has learned to deal quietly and politely with cats instead of gleefully chasing them under the bed and following to see if she could catch them. Now she waits for permission to walk past either of the small grays (Grayling and Midget) who tend to glare and growl at her as often as not. My original cats are learning to live amongst them, although there are still spits and spats as they try to remind "Dick's cats" that this is THEIR home.

I get frustrated, and tired of cleaning/spending money/worrying about adoption/worrying about cat-cat fights and cat/dog fights, etc. But when I have some quiet time and one of "Dick's cats" jumps on my lap, I enjoy the softness of the fur and the tone of the purring, and the pressure of the head butt against my hand or chin. Unless it's Tig who jumps up when someone else is on my lap and bites their neck, or Bunny wants to rub my chin when I'm trying to eat, or Jin squalls for the 10th time for "more food"...

David and Goliath - the pics

This mouse diced with death when it tucked into the lunch of a hungry leopard.

Seemingly unaware of the beast towering over it, the mischievous rodent grabbed at scraps of meat thrown into the African Leopard's enclosure.

But instead of pouncing on the tiny intruder the 12-year-old leopard, called Sheena, appeared to be afraid of the daring mouse and kept her distance.

At one stage she tried to nudge the mouse away with her nose, but the determined little chap carried on chewing away until he was full


The extraordinary scene was captured by photography student Casey Gutteridge at the Santago Rare Leopard Project in Herfordshire.

The 19-year-old, from Potters Bar, Herfordshire, who was photographing the leopard for a course project, was astounded by the mouse's behaviour.

He said: 'I have no idea where the mouse came from - he just appeared in the enclosure after the keeper had dropped in the meat for the leopard.

'He didn't take any notice of the leopard, just went straight over to the meat and started feeding himself.

'But the leopard was pretty surprised - she bent down and sniffed the mouse and flinched a bit like she was scared.

'In the meantime the mouse just carried on eating like nothing had happened.


...but even a gentle shove does not deter the little creature from getting his fill...

'It was amazing, even the keeper who had thrown the meat into the enclosure was shocked - he said he'd never seen anything like it before.'

Project owner Jackie James added: 'It was so funny to see - Sheena batted the mouse a couple of times to try to get it away from her food.

'But the determined little thing took no notice and just carried on...'

Sheena was brought in to the Santago Rare Leopard Project from a UK zoo when she was just four months old.

She is one of 14 big cats in the private collection started by Jackie's late husband Peter in 1989.

The African Leopard can be found in the continent's forests, grasslands, savannas, and rainforests.

...so the mouse continued to eat the leopard's lunch and show the leopard who was boss.

From an email and a story found here

Taming a Feral / semi-Feral Cat - thoughts

In another 8 days, it will have been one year since my late brother went into the hospital -- not knowing why he was in such pain, and probably not knowing that he would soon die.

In another 9 days, it will have been one year since I took over the care of his many rescued cats -- some cats who were used to my visits and others who were afraid of any visitor. When Casa de los Gatos offered to help, they said that they could take even the semi-feral, but I figured that most of them should be those that were the most adoptable -- young, healthy, and friendly to those they knew at least, so that meant that I would be left with the old and the scaredy cats.

The old ones are not only friendly, they are demanding of attention -- like any true cat. The young ones who were born around the time of my brother's onset of symptoms, or afterwards, always scrambled to see who could hide first when I came in the door. I really never saw them until I was forced to become their caretaker. I didn't know their names, their gender, or even what they looked like -- there were a "bunch" of solid gray cats, and I had trouble counting them to know how many, let alone which one was which.

I have two of those now - Midget (female)and Grayling (male), and they still avoid me most of the time.But Grayling likes the Furminator, and today he saw me "furminating" one of the old cats, Buddy, and he came over close to me to decide whether it was safe to get a bit of furminating of his own. I firmly believe that cats started associating with humans not just for food (they could get their own food, but ours did look tasty) but for scratching their itchy places.

Many of my cats approach each other and give head bumps and rub their faces against the other's body, but cats don't use their paws and claws to help another cat scratch an itch -- they save it for themselves. When they have that "summer itch" with their fur starting to shed, only a human's fingers (or comb or Furminator) can reach down into the deep recesses of that thick coat, managing to both reach the itch and pull out some of the offending loose fur. My brother's old cats, when they were young, would actually line up next to his patio bench waiting to be the next one to be combed. Now they don't wait in line - they push each other away to be the first and only customer, but they all hang around for their chance.

This behavior has brought the semi-ferals, both the indoor and the two born outdoors, to watch and apparently learn about the pleasures of combing and scratching. Today I furminated several of Dick's old cats and a couple of my cats while Cali, Lil Bit, and both grays watched from a distance. Cali has let me scratch her fur before, but I never know whether she will let me approach or run away. Today SHE did the approach, and before she was through, I had pulled out quite a bit of undercoat and she was pushing her cheeks against my hand to be scratched as well as letting me comb her back and sides. Lil Bit came up and let me comb his back and tail. Even Grayling came up for short session - arching his back while I pulled the furminator through his thick coat. Dilly, one of the "outdoor" ferals, has been rubbing up against me for the last week or so, and really enjoyed having the tines of the furminator to lean into once she felt them go deep into her fur. She was purring and leaning and thoroughly looking like a tame house kitty. Her sister, Taffy, (pictured above) was sleeping, and I decided not to wake her for a session.

Summer is a good time to show a cat why being friendly to people can be satisfying -- getting rid of all that shedding fur is almost as much of a treat as a salmon dinner.

Dog Pack attacks alligator

At times nature can be cruel, but there is also a raw beauty, and even a certain justice manifested within that cruelty.

The alligator, one of the oldest and ultimate predators, normally considered the "apex predator", can still fall victim to implemented 'team work' strategy, made possible due to the tight knit social structure and "survival of the pack mentality" bred into the canines.

See the remarkable photograph below courtesy of Nature Magazine -- Note that the Alpha dog has a muzzle hold on the gator preventing it from breathing, while another dog has a hold on the tail to keep it from thrashing. The third dog attacks the soft underbelly of the gator.

Not for the squeamish

scroll down and click on image to make it larger

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The pet gate is down - and this time it wasn't knocked down by accident.

My pet gate had a smaller gate door at the bottom that could be opened for cats to use while the dog, Honey, would have to jump the gate if she didn't want to wait for it to be opened. When I was home for the weekend, I would leave the gate open for hours and things went well, but I didn't want to leave all day for work with it open until I had a good deal of experience seeing their interactions. Well, Honey now acts much like my other dogs always did around the cats -- sneaks bites of yummy noms from their bowls and runs to check on them when she hears yowling/squalling/hissing, and so I unscrewed the fasteners, took the gate down and put it away in a bedroom. I now have one less thing to trip over, and the cats and dog officially live together... except for the closed, locked door that helps retain some of my sanity at night when they willingly traipse into the bedrooms to enjoy their bowls filled with canned food, and I run out and shut the door before they can escape, er.. follow me to the rest of the house. I have to lock the door because Buddy can open any door with a handle-type door opener, and all of mine have handles. (If anyone wants to adopt Buddy, this is "just a joke" -- he's not really a super elusive feline who can open any door, any cabinet...).

Which leads me to my next topic -- it's time to get some of these cats adopted into new homes. Taffy and Dilly are the two outdoor semi-feral kittens (born last July), and even they show a lot more confidence. Of course, when I bring out the vacuum, that confidence runs out the door into another room, but all my own cats always did that too. My brother's senior cats, however, were used to Dick's frequent cleaning and hang around while I have to vacuum around them. They aren't ready to have their fur vaccumed while they are wearing it, but they point out the hairbunnies if I miss them. The saying should specify that "Dogs have masters; cats have maids"...

Wild cats in the west

When I last wrote about Sarge's cats, I had transported the last one, Midget, from Dick's home, had scheduled her for spaying, and was worried about taming some of the indoor and outdoor “feral-acting” cats. Midget's spaying was completed without major incident, and she was NOT pregnant. I tried to give her a cage to rest in for a few days, but she didn't want to come out of her crate, so I jury-rigged the crate to fit in the door of a cage (with some towels stuffed around the opening to keep her from escaping from the cage). I didn't think it would work, but she was content to stay in her den-crate and went into the cage only to eat/drink/use the litter box. I didn't see her do any of those for several days, but the evidence was visible.

I had put Hassle in a cage the week before and found that he was not only fearful, but aggressive – when I reached for his bowl to add food, he slashed my hand with a
strong blow and made it clear that he was ready to take further action if I tried to reach for the litter box next to him. I don't like to bleed, and was easily convinced to keep his door shut and drop food thru the cage openings..., but how to clean/change his litter box? I had hoped that he would relax after a few days, but he appeared to be growing increasingly tense and angry. I emailed folks on the animal rescue lists and asked for advice, and grudgingly decided to let him out of the cage and hope that he would respond in time – as encouraged by Colene and others. I had gotten him to move from the cage to a crate and was truly almost ready to transport him to the County pound where he would have been euthanized for wild behavior. I feared that I would end up having to do it later – and that I would get bloodied trying to trap him, but I decided he needed to have a chance. I also decided to change his name from “Hassle” to “Fife”, (and now "Barney") – after Mayberry's fearful but steadfast deputy. Photo of Fife relaxing in the cat playpen.

I am amazed to report that Fife now does the “flop, drop, and roll” to get rubbed and although still nervous about new experiences, he's explored places in my home that my own original cats have yet to touch (I hope they never do), and that he's a “sucker for salmon flavored food”. He enjoys a strong backscratching, allows a tummy rub without attacking my hand, and visits every bowl that has salmon catfood placed in it.

Midget has let me touch her, but is still leery of staying in one place and being petted, but her older stepbrother, Grayling, accepts petting once I can touch him – but doesn't always let me near enough to get that first touch.

The outdoor feral kittens are a work in progress – I took one back to Dick's place because she seemed to be very scared, Dilly and the calico, now named Taffy, have adapted to indoor life quite well. Dilly lets me touch her and pet her and plays games with the other cats when I bring out the string toys. Taffy stares at me and still considers me a threat, but a threat with food. She has gone out the door into the backyard at least twice (not my plan, but hers) and surprisingly returned – she considers the house to be her sanctuary even though she lived outside since birth. Of course, a lot of that time she spent inside a storage shed, under Dick's home, and under the roof of his carport – so that likely has helped prepare her for living under a roof. She used the litter box the first time she needed to pee after being brought to live in my home, and she and Dilly have continued to have good bathroom habits.

My dog, Honey, has chased a number of the exploratory cats, and has cornered a few which resulted in scary situations, but her intentions still appear to be playful and the cats are getting more used to her. A number of them lie in front of the pet gate and watch her with our house cats – they appear to be either judging her friendliness with those cats or studying her response time from the kitchen to the pet gate. They've knocked the gate over several times while running away from Honey, and I'm thankful none have broken any bones. That's not what I'm yelling at them when I hear/see the gate go down, though.

I now believe that each of them could live in an adoptive home, given more time to become socialized and given a patient adoptive owner.