One I Hold in High Regard

Ever since I was a little girl when my mother would read me stories each night before I went to bed, I wanted to believe the world was a magical place. I never outgrew the deep longing to feel like I was like a character in a book specially chosen to be unlike anyone else in a world filled with endless possibilities. I would go to the movies and wonder why I couldn’t be like those people who went out and did great things, against all odds, they’d save the world after a remarkable adventure.

The weeks have flown by since we first accepted Mia, a rough and tumble pregnant stray cat, into the Kitten Associates rescue program. We didn’t know much about her other than she was living off scraps at an apartment complex where cats were not welcome-not welcome to the point where the management was about to put down poison to rid the complex of them. We couldn’t allow that to happen, so our foster mom Moe opened up her home to this deserving cat. A few days later Mia gave birth to five healthy kittens.

©2014 Foster Mom Moe. From left to right Mia's kittens: Ivy, Greta, Fernando, Snickers, Woody (front).

Ivy, Greta, Woody Jackson, Lil’ Snickers and Fernando have done well and grown into perfectly adoptable kittens. They’ve had their vaccinations and been spayed/neutered. The next step of their journey is to come to my home in Connecticut where we’ll find them their forever homes. Although you might assume that every mom cat travels with their kittens on some rare occasions that's not the case. We have to assess each mom as to whether or not they will come to Connecticut. That process starts from before we accept them into our program and during the time they are in foster care in Georgia.

©2014 Foster Mom Moe. Almost full family portrait, but who is missing?

Our goal is to keep the families together until they begin getting adopted. We don’t “cherry pick” kittens, then not really care what becomes of the mom. Sadly though, in some cases we’ve had to place a cat into a sanctuary because she was not adoptable (too fractious) and in one case we even had to place the cat with a Vet who needed a barn cat (the cat was feral). Finding the perfect home for EVERY cat is my ultimate goal and passion, but with Mia, knowing what to do for her has stumped me for weeks.

You see Mia isn’t all that friendly with humans, but she’s not so unfriendly that she can’t be adopted. She just can’t be adopted right now. She’s not ready.

So what should I do?

Unlike my other posts where you go on a journey with me, I’m asking you to help me choose the direction I take. What do YOU think I should do about Mia?

©2014 Foster Mom Moe. Ivy is too mature to bother with nursing on her poor mama.

Here’s what I know:

• Mia has been a great mom and even after she’s been spayed she is still very close to her kittens. They nurse on her for comfort and she doesn’t seem to mind (even though she has no more milk). They still cuddle with her and play alongside her. As the kittens get adopted we know she will be separated from them, but doing it slowly instead of all at once seems kinder to her.

• Mia bit Moe. Badly. In all fairness Moe felt that she possibly “asked for it” by scratching the base of Mia’s tail on her back too roughly. That said, Moe KNOWS cats so was it her fault or does Mia react on a hair trigger? Does that mean Mia can’t be adopted into a home with young kids? Any kids? I can find a home for her without kids but it does make it harder.

©2014 Foster Mom Moe. Like mother like son.

• In the few months Mia’s been with Moe, she hasn’t really “blossomed” or become more friendly. She is not aggressive. I’m told she's fearful. She seems to like one of Moe’s other cats and we think perhaps Mia likes cats more than she likes humans (which again is OK, but not great for getting her adopted).

• It’s possible that if we separate Mia from her kittens and transport the kittens without her that being alone in Moe’s foster space will force her to trust and love Moe. I call it “tough love.” Because Moe will be the only contact Mia will have, the hope is that Mia will soften in her attitude about humans. We can transport Mia up here in another month or two if she’s doing better, but if there are any kittens here, she may have forgotten them and might not be friendly to them any more (as we saw years ago when we had Bobette here and she went nuts on her kittens after arriving on transport with them).

©2014 Foster Mom Moe. Mia and Ivy.

• Or…being alone all day without any contact until Moe gets home from work would make Mia worse and maybe she would be happier here since Sam and I are home all day and can spend time with her.

• Mia could come off transport and hate her kittens. I have no place to put her away from them, but I could get a BIG 3-tiered cage for her and could cage her unless I’m in the room if the kittens are in danger. Of course that’s a shitty option for Mia, one I am not a big fan of.

©2014 Foster Mom Moe. Mama Mia.

• If I can’t turn Mia into an adoptable cat, then what do I do? I can’t have her jam up my ability to take on more cats and I CANNOT just add her to my cat family (even if she’s fluffy and pretty-prerequisites for living here). If Moe had the same difficulty, at least I know of a sanctuary in Georgia that might be able to help us. I suppose if push comes to shove I could find something around here, but I’ve never heard of a place that takes cats like Mia. There is a place that takes unadoptable cats that have terminal illness or disability, but Mia is not like that.

• MIA IS ADORABLE! Who cares if she's friendly?

The transport leaves on Friday. What should I do?

Want to know more? Mia's backstory is here.

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Continued from Chapter 1 and Chapter 2.

That said, I also saw something in Sam’s expression that told me that Wally had already captured his heart. Sam was so tender with this little kitten it was clear he was smitten. I, too, felt not only great fondness for this baby but utter devotion to getting him stablized. I shocked myself at feeling anger with Celeste for not accepting a new ward. This kitten, who could have died a few hours ago, needed all the loving care we could give him and she should have joined us in our efforts. I also knew that wasn’t fair. I had to get over my own disappointment in her behavior and in truth, maybe it was for the best for now.

©2014 Robin A.F. Olson. This fragile life.

At 5AM I got up to prepare Wallace’s next meal. He was konked out in his carrier, but quickly woke up when I opened the carrier door. He wobbled over wanting to get out. Crying his little mute cry..just open mouth, no sound. I hoped he'd be squeaking after he had something to eat and got recharged. I felt bad waking Sam up too, but it seemed to work much better if he held Wally while I carefully syringed the formula into him. I’d weighed him earlier and he was only 8oz while my other foster kittens were at 15oz or more and they were the same age. We’d calculated how much to feed him so we began counting syringefuls of formula.

Wally was eager to eat, one, two, three…ten, eleven, twelve..finally thirteen ccs of formula. He was voided and gave us a big surprise. I barely touched his bottom when a very large stool slid right out into my hand (which had a paper towel over it, thankfully). I can’t believe how happy I was to see that, but it was proof that his bodily functions were working properly. The stool looked okay-not the runs-no blood. Another good sign.

©2014 Robin A.F. Olson. Wallace survived the night and already had us under his spell.

We went back upstairs to get a few hours rest. Wally was too fussy to sleep, so I sat up in bed, holding him. His sharp claws raked against my skin as he frantically searched up and down my chest for his mother, for her nourishing nipples. He would bury his face into the soft flesh of my upper arm, but would as quickly move away, not finding his prize. I had to keep turning him or lifting and moving him so he didn't fall. My eyelids were growing heavy, but I didn’t care. He was alive. He was doing well. I didn’t screw it up. Maybe in some small way, I helped right the wrong of losing Fiorello.

After an hour, Wally got tired so I put him back with his stuffed friend. He fell asleep and so did I.

©2014 Christine Cassavechia. Used with permission. First night with Christine.

Christine called a few hours later and told me she could come get Wallace in the afternoon. As glad as I was to have help, I found myself feeling quite sad that he was leaving. As always, I knew I’d done my part, now Christine would care for him for a few weeks and when he was bigger and stronger, he would come back and I’d figure out a way to put him with one of our two litters. He needed socialization with kittens as much as he needed loving care from us. I am determined to provide that for him and will do so when the time is right.

©2014 Christine Cassavechia. Used with permission. Christine scores, getting Wallace to take the bottle.

Sam and I fed Wallace a few more times before Christine arrived. He ate well, we even burped him (yes, you SHOULD do that after feeding the little guys---VERY GENTLY) and he continued to charm us to no end. When it was time for us to part, I can say without reservation that we both were reluctant to let him go. Even with feedings every few hours, we didn’t care about being tired. In such a short amount of time, Sam and I were both in love with this little kitten.

What I also realized was that I’d just had a glimpse of what it might have been like if Sam and I had ever had children of our own. We’d been very good “parents” to Wally and that sense of teamwork made me feel proud that we could do this again and maybe next time with more confidence.

©2014 Christine Cassavechia. Used with permission. Full belly & sweet dreams.

We went over Wally’s care with Christine. She impressed me to no end. It was clear she knew what to do and when so I gave her all the supplies she’d need. She even has heated seats in her car so she said she’d turn them on so the warmth would keep the cat carrier toasty as she drove Wally to her home. I barely knew this woman, but from our short meeting and few interactions at her work, I felt completely at ease. There's just something about certain people who you know you can count on without having to worry they will back out on you. Also, Christine is so upbeat and cheerful, you just have to adore her.

©2014 Christine Cassavechia. Used with permission. Sleeping with his SnuggleKittie.™

Tired, achy, but happy, after we said our goodbyes to Wallace and Christine, I walked into the living room and noticed that one of the cats, had peed on the sofa, right where Sam had just been sitting cuddling with Wally. It was a huge mess, but just goes to show that my own cats were not as happy with the newcomer as we were, and helped remind me that for now I should just love Wallace from afar if I value having a clean place to sit.

Update: In the week since Wallace was rescued, Christine has given us one great update after another. Wallace has DOUBLED his weight, which is unheard of, but also lets us know how much of a crisis he was in when we first brought him home.

Although Christine's home is full of cats, dogs, fish, and a few other tiny creatures, until recently Wallace has been separated from all of them. He'll continue to be separated from the cats, but there's one lady who demanded to be part of Wallace's caretakers. She's a Great Dane named Nina and she LOVES Wallace as if he were her own puppy. Wallace gets daily cleaning from his doggie foster mom and he gets to snuggle with her (under supervision of course) and enjoy having the warmth and love of another creature. I'm sure between Christine, her loving family and Nina, it's keeping Wallace not only alive, but happy and for an orphan, being depressed is something we want to avoid. We're VERY lucky and so is Wallace. His rescue just fell into place, as simple as that.

©2014 Christine Cassavechia. Used with permission. Nina gets "attacked" by tiny Wallace.

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Who hasn't had a bad day with their cat, but how many of you felt like you had to call 911 as a result?

Cat behaviors are often misunderstood, but rarely, if ever, do they make national headlines as it did with a cat named Lux last March.

For Lux, the 4-year old, 11 lb (not 22 lb as reported elsewhere) black and white domestic medium haired cat, the question everyone wants answered is who's at fault for the cat going berserk after his tail was pulled by a 7-month old baby? The incident started an escalating chain reaction. Lux clawed the baby and the baby's father, Lee Palmer kicked Lux in the rear end, then grabbed his kid, his girlfriend Teresa Barker, and their dog as they fled into a back room, terrified at Lux's violent reaction after being struck. Instead of running away from Palmer, he flew sky-high into the red zone, screaming and charging at his family who were cowering on the other side of a locked door.

The result was a call to the Portland, Oregon 911 where they dispatched the Police to rescue the family from the now crazed cat.

©2014 Animal Planet. Used with permission. Jackson Galaxy.

Once the news hit everyone had an opinion about Lux. Some said to put him down for striking a baby. Others said to put the family down for kicking the cat. In stories like this I like to believe that somewhere in the middle lies the truth, but there's only one person uniquely qualified to shed light on this situation.

Cat behaviorist extraordinaire Jackson Galaxy, star of the hit show My Cat From Hell, heard about Lux and even though shooting for his fifth season had just wrapped, Jackson felt it was important not only to offer his services but to capture Lux's story on film so the truth could come out for the world to see.

From ABCNEWS the 911 audio tapes are heard.

I had the pleasure of speaking the Jackson about his experiences with Lux. What surprised me when I chatted with Jackson about this episode was that Jackson, who says it often takes him about 5 minutes to sort out a behavior problem, had a different experience with Lux. Jackson has never worked a case like this. It surprised him, stumped him, frustrated him to no end, but also Jackson discovered he had a great deal of love for this cat—the kind of love he has reserved for his own cats (which he hinted at offhandedly that perhaps Lux might be one day…or at least be a part of Lux's life going forward).

©2014 Animal Planet. Used with permission. Jackson Galaxy meets Lux.

What is unprecedented about the episode: “911, My Cat’s Holding Me Hostage!” is that since it was after season five had finished shooting it took the combined efforts of Animal Planet, the MCFH production staff, local Vets, the Multnomah County Animal Shelter (where Lux had briefly been surrendered) and Jackson to work together to get this story on the air. It's important because “this episode will challenge everyone.” Which was why a full hour was dedicated to Lux. It may very well be My Cat From Hell's coming of age show, something Jackson is very proud of.

©2014 Animal Planet. Used with permission. Jackson making a new friend in Lux.

When asked, Jackson couldn't say what the odds are that Lux will keep his home, even knowing that his family did their homework over the few weeks Jackson worked with them.

The homework itself evolved in ways we haven't seen in previous episodes. It wasn't "tie it up in a bow" sort of pretty resolution. It's important that viewers understand that not all behavior issues are so simple to decode. “We condense 35 hours of shooting into a 22 minute episode. Life is messy, resolutions are messy.”

©2014 Animal Planet. Used with permission. Aww..really? Does this look like a cat who would cause trouble? Okay…a lot of trouble? Sweet Lux.

Lux's story doesn't have a resolution yet, but his journey is what makes this episode of My Cat From Hell so groundbreaking because it unfolds in ways other shows have never been able to. We discover Lux as Jackson does.

Jackson reminds us that Lux was a bottle baby. Although there haven't been any studies about how the unbreakable bond with the human who cares for orphan kittens effects them as adults, many in rescue already know there's something different about them. Those cats tend to be cats, but “not quite cats.” Without other cats to learn from, these bottle babies have a confused perception of their world. Are they cats? Are they humans? Are they something in between? In Lux's case he has that bond with Teresa, but he also struggles with many behavior issues that Jackson is determined to get to the bottom of.

When Lux terrified his family it was an isolated incident “in his life,” as Jackson attests, but that didn't mean he hadn't had issues prior to his family's 911 call. Lux suffers from a myriad of problems: overstimulation, redirected aggression, play aggression, you name it. I asked if Lux had been to the Vet and Jackson replied that not only had Lux been to the Vet, he'd been MANY TIMES. “We spent a ton of money on him and looked at every last angle.” There was passion in Jackson's voice as he continued; “There is something in his body that's betraying him.” And if anyone can figure out what it is, Jackson can.

My final question stumped Jackson and gave our interview a moment of levity. I asked: “Where did the name Lux come from?” Jackson, who had been so focused and passionate about helping the cat overcome his behavior issues never thought to ask. He promised that if the show goes into a sixth season he'd be sure to find out.

My Cat From Hell: 911, My Cat’s Holding Me Hostage! airs Saturday, June 14th at 8pm EST on Animal Planet.

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Continued from Chapter 1.

Instead of freaking out, I sat for a moment and thought about it. What did I need to bring with me? Maybe there was someone who could also help and advise me. I called our vet at the Cat Clinic and asked if there was anyone on staff who could possibly bottle-feed a kitten if my mama-cat rejected him. They put me on hold for a few minutes then told me to call Christine. She would be glad to help. GLAD TO HELP? Really? I didn’t have to make 100 phone calls? I didn’t have to beg for favors? All I had to do was keep the kitten alive for 24 hours and she could pick him up the following day. Even though I was woefully stiff, I got up and started to put together a kit of things for the kitten, energized by knowing that a Vet tech, no less, had my back. This was going to work!

Sam drove us to the Fire Station, while I went over in my head what I’d do once I saw the kitten. First, see if it was warm enough then give it a small amount of warmed goat milk. I had some in a baby bottle and in a syringe, covered by a portable heating pad so it would stay warm. I had a cat carrier with a warm blanket. I brought a flea comb but then realized he would be too young to treat with any flea products so he’d have to get a bath-which I still fear doing to little guys.

©2014 Robin A.F. Olson. Our first look at Wallace.

Once we arrived at the Station we were greeted by the Dispatcher who called for Lt. K. to bring us the kitten. She arrived moments later carrying an old blue milk crate with a towel inside it. I couldn’t see anything more than that at first, but as she placed the crate down, I saw a little kitten's head covered by a towel. The kitten started to cry. I saw stripes. It was a little silver tabby.

On the way to the Fire Station, I said to Sam we should name the kitten Wally since he was found in a wall. We both thought that was silly, cute and sweet so when Lt. K mentioned they had wanted to name the kitten Wallace, for the same reason, it was a done deal.

©2014 Robin A.F. Olson. After giving Wallace some goat milk he was so hungry he licked some of the drops off Sam's hand.

I lifted the kitten from the towel. I could feel dirt on his coat from being inside the wall. He was crying, very thin, but definitely about 3 weeks old-the same age as the kittens I was fostering, but half the weight. I checked him quickly for fleas while Sam held him. I didn’t even realize it but four other firemen had joined us and were watching my every move. As I continued to examine the kitten, one of them asked if it was a boy or girl. I took a look and I was certain it was a boy. They were delighted by that and amazed how I could tell the difference. Sexing kittens is not too difficult at that age, but they had never done it before. I realized how odd it was to be rescuing a kitten from people who spend their life doing rescue. We were giving back to our community and were honoring what they did every day by assisting them when they needed us. I felt really proud at that moment.

Wallace had a runny eye and continued to cry. I fumbled around and got a syringe of milk ready. Not even caring that I was the center of attention, I focused on being gentle, carefully urging the kitten to drink. I’d failed completely with Fio. He never took any nourishment no matter how much we tried. Wallace was quite different. He greedily slurped at the formula to everyone’s amazement. I quickly got two cc’s into him, which is not nearly enough, but I didn’t want to drop his body temperature and put him into shock since I didn’t know when he’d last had food. Clearly it had been a long time. I wanted to get him home, warmed up and fed again, but then I remembered…had he been voided?

©2014 Robin A.F. Olson. Mabel heard Wally's cries and ran over to be near him. How I wish I could have put them together, but I couldn't risk anyone getting sick or harmed.

I asked if they had helped void the kitten and they hadn’t, not clear on what I was asking. Panicked I asked for warm, wet paper towels ASAP. Of course they responded like lightning, and moments later I was gently stimulating Wallace’s genitals and rear end to get him to void. Sure enough we got some pale yellow urine out of him. The color was a good sign. Darker urine would have indicated dehydration or possible other problems. With at least some urine out of him and some food in him, he was stable enough for us to get him home.

The firemen thanked us and I promised to give them updates. It was such a strange situation. There I was, possibly seen as a true cat rescuer for maybe the first time in my life. I knew what to do. I got the job done. I asked, in parting, if I provided them with a kit of information and supplies on how to care for kittens would they make use of if and they eagerly agreed. They’d even share it with their other stations so in the future perhaps any kittens discovered would get better care until a rescue could be called upon. I felt like the seed of an idea was born at that moment that would allow Kitten Associates to be more involved with our community and would help save more lives. I’d even make up a kit for our Newtown Fire Dept, too, but first we had to get Wallace home.

As Sam was reaching the car, I realized I forgot my purse and turned to get it. Lt. Katherine was there holding it in her outstretched hand. I thanked her and smiled awkwardly, then turned back to the car. I almost ran into who I assumed was the Captain as I turned. He asked me a few questions about the kitten and if I thought he would be all right. The Captain was clean cut, muscular, with richly toned skin. His uniform was pressed and spotless. Seeing him made me realize I rarely ever see men doing rescue, let alone one who was so handsome. I'd been so wrapped up in Wallace, it never occurred to me to take a moment to enjoy the thrill of being near so much testosterone (excluding Lt. K, of course!).

I told the Captain I'd keep them updated and he thanked me for helping them. I looked up and one of the fire trucks was pulling out of the bay. Some of the folks who had been with us moments earlier were on the rig. I raised my hand to wave, feeling a tickle of delight when they waved back. For those few seconds, I was part of the team.

Wallace cried as Sam drove along the highway. I took the tiny kitten out of his carrier and held him. He squirmed and wriggled, then got very quiet. I flashed back to Fio, how he would be so vibrant, then nearly dead after he was fed. I knew Wallace had a very big day and had just been fed so I tried not to be upset when he seemed to pass out in my arms. He was just tired. Let him be.

©2014 Robin A.F. Olson. The little guy purred for us right away.

We got home and checked Wallace for fleas. I didn’t find any or any flea dirt. His ears looked good. I opened his mouth. He had a few baby teeth and no visible sores. Another good sign that he might be fairly healthy, other than very thin.

Sam and I discussed putting him with Celeste. I was still very fearful of being the sole caregiver for this kitten after just losing Fio, so we decided to try. We brought Wally to Celeste. He was crying. She saw him, sniffed then backed off, growling. I tried to pet her and pet Wally but she was far too angry to give it a chance. Even if with a scent swap she accepted him, I’d have to stay up all night out of fear she could turn on him and kill him. We decided to not risk it, but instead pull an all-nighter to make sure he was fed when he needed it.

One of our Facebook friends shared a link with me to Kitten-Rescue (thank you JodiAnn!). This web site is not fancy but wow they have great, simply prepared info on kitten care. I’d read other books about it and frankly they fell very short. This one gave me the info that I couldn’t find elsewhere-a clear cut amount of formula to give the kitten and WHEN. It’s 8cc per ounce of kitten. Since we could only guess at Wally’s age, it looked like some time around every 4 to 5 hours we should feed him. Void him first, then feed, then wait 15 minutes then void again, then a warm place to sleep.

Thanks to one of our donors we had a big case of evaporated goat milk. Another donor sent us special nipples for the baby bottle and our friend Joanne McGonagle sent us a SnuggleKittie,™ a plush cat toy that comes with a battery operated heart beat. I’d had it on hand for months and now I could put it to use.

Sam held Wallace while I tried to bottle feed him. It just didn’t work well at all. I used the syringe and that was a bit messy but it got the job done. I gave him 7cc of milk and he seemed full. He was so thin I didn’t want to push it. I’d give him a few hours before feeding him more, but for now it was time to pee and get some sleep.

©2014 Robin A.F. Olson. I honestly believe that without his SnuggleKittie™ Wallace never would have had any sort of comfortable time sleeping. He got as close as he could to the artificial heartbeat and fell fast asleep.

After we got Wallace cleaned up we put him back into the small cat carrier with his new plush buddy. I slipped a heated pad under the blanket in the carrier, but placed it so only half the space was warm in case he wanted to get off it. He didn’t want to have anything to do with it. He wanted OUT of the carrier and weakly stood up, crying with all his might. Sometimes he only opened his mouth, but no sound came out. I found it unnerving. Maybe he was getting weaker? I hoped to God I hadn’t messed it up and that he was too cold to be fed and was going to die.

Mabel ran over, jumped on the garbage can next to the counter where we had placed the cat carrier. She pawed at the cat carrier door, wanting to get at Wallace. Her mothering instincts were in high gear. Wallace saw her and tried to get at her, too. I so wanted to let her soothe little Wallace, but I had also just discovered that Mabel has ear mites so I couldn’t risk it-also if Wallace was sick, then Mabel would get sick or vice versa and all our other cats could get sick, too. I felt terrible so Sam and I took turns holding little Wallace and soothing him the best we could.

I put him back into this carrier and after a time he went over to the plush kitty and fell asleep. He tucked himself next to the toy, as close as he could to the heartbeat. It was working. He was warm and comfortable, though I should have wiped him down more, he’d had enough for now. Time to rest.

©2014 Robin A.F. Olson. Feeding time was a bit messier than I imagined, but together Sam and I got the job done.

It was almost 10pm. Sam and I talked about what we’d do for the rest of the night. We worked out a plan then grabbed a quick bite to eat. I kept checking on Wallace. I had to make sure he was breathing-he was.

I couldn’t let this one die. No way.

I slept fitfully between feedings and had bad dreams about Sam’s clients chasing us down and forcing us to hide in the bathroom to get away from them. I was holding Wally in my dream and we were hiding in the shower stall. When would these people leave us alone? In truth, Sam has been so busy with work it was a small miracle that he was willing to help with Wally. I hated to ask for more but between my back problems and this kitten in crisis I had no options.

Chapter 3 is next…where we find out how Wallace fared after his first night and what lies ahead for our latest foster kitten.

I’ve come to the understanding that doing cat rescue is more often based on gut instinct than rational thought. Is one better than the other; one more appropriate to doing rescue? I suppose being rational would leave less to chance, but I also think that something gets lost in being so very careful. Mistakes are made, but lessons follow. Perhaps that’s how I make sense of this next story about a fearless little kitten whose accidental separation from his mother may have also been his saving grace.

My back has been killing me over the past week. So much so that the pain flares up to the point where I have to catch my breath and to sit down after standing for a short time. I blame it on no exercise, sitting here at the computer for hours without getting up, and having too small of a bed with too many cats vying for the same small space. Waking up with pretzeled limbs is okay some days, but after chronic repetition, my body had to revolt.

After lots of ice, heat, ice came some small relief. I had a bad health scare two weeks ago, heading to Urgent Care, certain I was having a heart attack. Fortunately, it was a confluence of issues, one being a possible ulcer from taking too much naproxen to counteract constant headaches-again from sitting down at the computer, eye strain, poor position at the keys. The other was from lifting too many heavy objects (aka taking cats to the vet) which pulled on the joints on either side of my sternum. The resulting double-whammy caused severe chest pain.

Something had to give.

I made big sweeping changes. I quit gluten and sugar. I don’t sit at the keyboard for long periods of time. I had to stop pain killers, for now, to let my gut heal. When my back started to go out, I decided to treat it with ice and heat, no meds…some rest…go easy…hope for the best.

With all that I did start to feel quite a bit better, other than missing having cake or a big fat croissant.

My back was improving. I figured another day or two and I’d be okay. That’s when the phone rang. It was after 6pm and usually I don’t pick up calls on the Kitten Associates line that late in the day. I need to have time for myself and I have to make boundaries, but I did look at the Google Voice transcript of the call. Even though the transcription leaves a lot to be desired (e.g.,“police station” is transcribed to “please state one”), I did see three words that caught my eye: Kitten and Fire Department.

There were two messages one right after the other. I listened to them both. One was from an associate who does wildlife rehabilitation. She told me that I’d be getting a call from the local 24/7 Vet hospital about a kitten that had been trapped in a wall and needed help.

Alarmed, I listened to the next message from the Vet. It said that a Lieutenant from the Danbury Fire Department had brought in a kitten that needed help and though they were sorry, since the “finances” couldn’t be provided, that they could not provide care and that I should call them to arrange to help this kitten since they turned it away.

I’ve had a problem with this Vet hospital for a long time. They’ve taken advantage of us before, having people call us when they can’t afford care, putting the burden of the life or death of that animal on whether or not we can pay the bill. I’ve had words with them about this. We’re a small rescue. We paid $1200.00 for one cat that did not even belong to us AND they called us at 10 PM the night of the Sandy Hook Elementary School Shooting to put that life or death burden on us! What would we say-especially on THAT night? It wiped us out.

Here they are calling yet again, but this time for a tiny kitten they easily could have helped. At least they could have shown the Firemen how to feed and void the kitten. What would that have cost? The Fireman didn’t have to save the kitten. They did what they felt was the right thing to do. They pitched in. They didn’t charge anyone for their efforts. Why couldn’t this Vet give this kitten some support? No. They sent it away. Now it was on my rescue, with few resources, to take care of this fragile creature. Who know how many hours had passed since the kitten had been found? When did it eat last? Little ones need to be fed every few hours or even more often if they are neonatal. Every second wasted put the kitten at higher risk of dying.

Perhaps I was fueled by anger as well as the need to help this kitten. I didn’t know how old it was or when the last time it had been fed. I knew we had Celeste, our mama cat, who might accept a fifth kitten, especially since Fiorello, her third-born had died. I also knew it was a BIG RISK to put an orphan with another family. Without testing the mother, we’d never know if the kitten carried Feline Leukemia, FIV or something else. Potentially, he could sicken or even kill our entire litter of foster kittens OR Celeste might carry something that would sicken and kill the orphan.

©2014 Robin A.F. Olson. Little Star looks on as her mom, Celeste feeds the rest of the family. Would Celeste accept a fifth kitten?

Did I really want to try bottle-feeding again so close to just losing and failing another? What if this one died, too? Could I stand the heartbreak; the shame of failure?

It’s just one kitten. Surely I could find a place for him.

I called Lieutenant Katherine and spoke to her about the kitten. My heart was racing. What was I getting myself into? Time was of the essence. I couldn’t back out. My instincts told me to hurry along and not worry about the consequences.

Lt. K. told me the shift before hers had been on a call to a property where there were people living illegally. They reported hearing cries coming out of the inside of a wall. Since calling for help also meant they would be kicked out of their illegal squat, they weren’t particularly happy about calling the Fire Department. I’m not sure why they called. They could have opened up the wall on their own, but then what would they do? They might not have realized it was a tiny kitten crying. Perhaps they thought it was something wilder?

What I know is that the mother and siblings were nowhere to be seen. The firemen looked for them but were told she had probably left the crawl space she’d been hiding the kittens. One kitten was left behind-the one that was in the wall. He was very thin and crying for his mother. They discussed leaving him there to be found by his mother, but they felt the people living at the location could possibly harm the kitten. It was decided to remove the kitten and find him some help. They had no idea what to do for the kitten, other than keep it warm. They weren’t sure they should give it cow’s milk, which was all they had, so they opted not to give him anything.

I asked Lt. K. to tell me how big the kitten was. Was it’s umbilical cord still attached? From what I was told, that’s what I expected. Her reply surprised me. She said, no, that he was walking a little bit, that his eyes were open, but were blue. I asked if his ears were straight up and down and she replied no. From what she told me I figured we had a 2 to 3 week old kitten. Okay. I can do this. Bottle-feeding an older kitten isn’t so tough. I thought I could manage his care.

I surprised myself by saying I’d be there as soon as I could. Here I am jumping in with both feet. I didn’t ask if the kitten has fleas, if he was sickly, what he even looked like, if it WAS a “he.” It’s a kitten. It needs help. Case closed.

Chapter 2 is up next, where we finally meet the little kitten and try not to drool on the sexy firefighters.

“Running on empty.” That’s how I’d describe the last month or so. Kitten Season is here and in full swing with no end in sight. All my rescue friends are reporting they are inundated with pregnant cats. I'm stunned since I thought we had a tough winter and didn't expect things to ramp up so fast.

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Far off in the distance you can hear them barking. To many people, the sound would not be considered anything to worry about, but to a colony of feral cats in rural southern Georgia, it means death is near. They’re not just any dogs barking. These dogs are feral, hunting in a pack and hungry for their next meal.

©2014 Warren Royal. Can you help me save some kitties? Which ones can you take? How about ALL?

For a colony of 12 feral cats, the sound of the dogs terrifies them as they do their best to hide from danger. They may skip the meal left out for them by a lady who owns the farm where they live. She does her best for them, but she doesn’t understand that to fully care for these cats, they need to be vetted-especially sterilized. She’s not a cat rescuer. She’s a kind soul who just wants to help these poor creatures and feeding them, in her mind, may be all that is required.

©2014 Warren Royal. The buff long haired cat is sick, with what we don't know but those crusty eyes look like a bad URI at least. I fear the worst for this baby. I hope he or she will be okay.

She may not even know where a vet IS in her part of the state. It’s probably too far away and she doesn’t have access to traps. She loves the cats, but in this case love is not enough. The cats hide in the barn, behind bales of hay, under the porch. The farm spreads across 40 acres and beyond that there isn’t much of anything, certainly no services for animals. The dogs can roam anywhere without fear of animal control. There just isn’t anyone to bother.

©2014 Warren Royal. What a handsome boy…which I later found out was a GIRL who we named JuneBug.

One by one, the cats began to fall prey to the dogs. The original number of 12 goes down to 7. The woman’s husband doesn’t fuss over the cats, but he does care that his wife is upset. They don’t have the resources to provide proper vet care for such a large number of cats or to work with them so they will no longer be feral and could be adopted. They don’t hang out on Facebook and get tips from rescuers in their area or have ever heard of Petfinder or Alley Cat Allies or any other resource that might make a difference. They do what they know to do. They feed the cats and hope for the best.

Feeding the cats has given them a chance to live, but what these well-meaning folks didn’t realize is they were also getting fattened up to be a better meal for the wild dogs.

Something had to be done before all the cats were killed.

©2014 Warren Royal. Even though I had no idea if we could socialize these cats I could not say NO to this face!

As a small rescue, my group, Kitten Associates can get a lot done by working in partnership with others. When I heard about the cats, I wanted to do something. The cats weren’t fractious from what I was told. They were young, maybe a few months old and they’d had some contact with their caretaker, so possibly in time we could socialize them enough to help them find homes.

I also felt badly for the dogs, but I have no resources to help them and I didn’t know anyone who could even trap them, let alone know what would they do with them.

It’s not the dog’s fault that they weren’t cared for. They were surviving as best they could. I’m sure they’d never touch the cats if they had a decent meal, but they must have been in a very bad way to have to make those choices.

©2014 Warren Royal.After being trapped, three of the rescues head off to the vet. The dilute calicos are with Good Mews now.

Our friend Warren volunteered to drive 4 hours to get to the location and once he arrived he got to work quickly trapping 5 of the 7 remaining cats. On a Sunday, not near any familiar Vet, Warren spent a lot of money getting the kittens snap tested so we could accept them into our program. Our amazing foster in the area, who had asked me to take a break from fostering, decided she needed to help these kittens regardless of how tired she was. She got her foster space prepared for them, dropping the other things she hoped to accomplish for that day.

I contacted Good Mews Animal Foundation and asked for help. They stepped up and offered to take 2 of the kittens as long as they were friendly. It was a big risk because we were worried they’d need too much work. I told Warren that the friendliest cats should go to them. We would take the 3 timid long-haired cats (considering I'm a freak for the long hairs, I almost didn't care how much work they needed anyway) and Good Mews would get the sweet short haired calicos. The 2 remaining cats we would try to get as soon as possible, but for now getting most of the cats out was a big win for us all.

©2014 Foster Mama. Headed to our vet, then to their new temporary home. We have two girls and a boy.

We named the kittens Maggie Mae, JuneBug & Purrcee. Thankfully none of them were aggressive and at worst, they were scared of their new mom but allowed her to pet them. She would work with them for the next few weeks and if they improved we’d move them to Connecticut to either continue working with them or put them up for adoption.

Good Mews reported that the 2 kittens they received were very sweet and they didn’t have any concerns about finding them great homes. If it wasn’t for Good Mews, we would have had a problem, because our foster mom doesn’t have space that’s big enough for 5 cats.

©2014 Foster Mama. Lovely Purrcee, an artistic interpretation.

Now was the time to focus on continuing getting the vetting done on the cats, get them spayed/neutered, their vaccinations, de-worming. Maggie and Junie began to allow their foster mom to pet their bellies. Purrcee was a bit more shy but still not aggressive. He’d come around in time, so we could take a moment out to appreciate that things had gone so well.

Some time later I learned that the remaining 2 cats did not have to worry about being safe. Their caretaker was considering taking them into her home and getting them vetted. At about the same time, I heard the heartbreaking news that her husband, wanting to protect her and the cats, shot and killed the pack of feral dogs. I had no idea he would do that, because it just never occurs to me it could happen. Guns? Shooting dogs? I’m not even sure how to make sense of it.

©2014 Foster Mama. JuneBug makes me swoon.

I would have tried to do something to save their lives if I’d known, but in truth I had to wonder what sort of life they would have had without him intervening. I’m not sure there was any way for their story to end happily. Picked up by Animal Control they would be euthanized. They would not be suitable or safe to be around kids. I am not qualified to vilify this man for what he did. I AM “qualified,” however, to be busted up that any animal died. I sincerely mourn their passing.

©2014 Foster Mama. Maggie waits for a wonderful home now that she's safe.

For our little Georgia Peaches, they made a great escape. They escaped death at the fangs of feral dogs. They escaped being thrown into a tiny cage at animal control and being euthanized due to gross overcrowding. They escaped living a miserable life, outdoors, living on scraps, flea infested and probably diseased and repeatedly impregnated.

©2014 Foster Mama. After a few weeks struggling with shyness, the kittens emerge to discover the delight of playing with toys.

Instead, thanks to a few very hard working, generous souls, these cats can begin their story with us. We pick up their tale as they complete their thousand-mile journey to Connecticut and into the home of Jame and her daughters Frances and Grace, where they will complete their socialization and begin the journey to find their forever homes.

To be continued…

©2014 Robin A.F. Olson. We were able to save more lives because we have a new foster home with Jame and her family.

You can watch Maggie, JuneBug and Purrcee on SqueeTV Ch 3!

Today “Chapstick” celebrates reaching the second week of life. During that time there have been many struggles. After being thrown into a dumpster like a piece of meaningless garbage on a cold early spring afternoon, with a sibling kitten who didn’t survive, this poor little creature was lucky to have Guardian Angels on its side.

We’re fairly sure that Chapstick, whose given name has been changed to Miracle, is a girl. At her age and stunted size, it’s tough to tell, but for now we can think of her as a little girl who, so far has lived up to her name.

©2014 Jeannie Garrison. Our first glimpse of Miracle beside a tube of Chaptstick® to show just how small she was.

Miracle is finally bigger than the lip balm she was photographed next to and in the latest photos from her foster family Christal and Jonathan, you can see her limbs look thicker and more robust and her fur looks like it’s growing softer. In fact, Christal believes that Miracle may be a long haired cat. It’s another one of those things where it’s too soon to know for certain.

©2014 C. Peruzzi. The same age as her step-siblings, Miracle is dramatically smaller, indicating it's very likely she was born premature.

What we do know is last week Miracle was not doing well and Jonathan realized he hadn’t gotten her to pass stool for far too long. How he did this or how he KNEW to do this, is beyond my knowledge of neonatal kitten care, but Jonathan managed to give Miracle an enema with a small amount of mineral oil. He also fed some to the kitten to see if he could get her to function normally.

It worked. The next day Miracle passed very hard stool and after that she began to struggle less and thrive more.

©2014 C. Peruzzi. Able to sit up on her own.

Miracle doesn’t fight off attempts to feed her any longer. She goes for her bottle and is happy to latch on to her new stepmom-kitty a moment later. She’s eating like a champion and we hope this means the worst days are over for her.

Her step-siblings are about the same age as she is, but compared to her they are gargantuan. They are healthy, happy, thriving, as all kittens should be, growing lovelier every day.

©2014 C. Peruzzi. Miracle's eyes are opening, yet another good sign.

The other mama in the home is going to give birth soon, too. Though I welcome this news, it also adds to the shocking number of pregnant cats I’m aware of. My friends at Animals in Distress have FOUR pregnant cats and are desperate to find good foster homes ASAP (contact me at info@kittenassociates.org if you live in Connecticut and work with a rescue group or want to foster).

©2014 C. Peruzzi. The results of round-the-clock care are clear. Miracle IS living up to her name.

We just took a pregnant mom into Kitten Associates, my rescue, and she gave birth two days ago to five healthy kittens (more on that in a future post). I fear “kitten season” is going to be brutal this year, which shocks me because the winter was fairly harsh yet kittens are being born barely moments after the first day of Spring.

©2014 C. Peruzzi. She feels so good she accepts belly rubs now, too.

I still think about the person who put Miracle and her sibling in the garbage, assuming they would die fairly soon. I wonder if they regret what they did and feel badly about it. I wonder if they don’t sleep well realizing what a horrific thing they did. I wonder if they knew one of the kittens still lived and was possibly going to make it if they would be relieved or just not care. Sometimes I imagine telling them she’s still with us, but they don’t deserve any chance to feel relief. Every day that Miracle is loved and grows bigger and stronger is proof that her precious life DOES matter.

Plus, if I ever met the person who did this I would skip any updates and go straight to hurting them with all I've got.

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Life is precious and should be revered in all its forms, whether it be a plant, or bug, a whale or amoeba. It’s also natural and expected that all forms of life draw to an end at some point, whether it be after only a few moments or many years. Death must occur to make way for new life to emerge in an endless cycle.

When a life comes to an end we may not even notice. We might step on a bug on a walk to the bus, while the end of another life form might break our hearts, making living our own life difficult, if not impossible.

When faced with losing our own precious life, we fight, we take medication, we have a surgery, we ask for prayers. We may also do the same thing in honor of a life we want to protect that’s in the balance. It might be our child or our friend or in this case that of a tiny newborn kitten who was found inside a dumpster with his sibling.

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Someone who did not consider life to be precious had a pregnant cat. The cat gave birth far too soon. Perhaps she was highly stressed or sick. She may have even died due to complications from the delivery. Her kittens were smaller than normal by more than an ounce, when a birth weight of a newborn kitten should be at least 3 1/2 ounces. Being down 1/3 of normal weight meant those kittens had a high probability that they would be robbed of having a normal life span.

The person, for whatever reason, chose to take the kittens away from their mother and put the two of them into a small box. The person then brought the box to a dumpster near a gas station and hide it under more trash knowing full well that the unusually cold early spring weather in Connecticut would end the life of these kittens very soon. The person left them there to die on purpose.

I want to know what sort of monster would do such a thing. Why was throwing away a precious life was the answer to their problem. What other things was this person capable of? What excuses did this person give himself or herself so that person could feel like their choice was acceptable and they would remain blameless for their heartless actions?

But what the person didn’t expect was that a man named Sal went to the gas station some time later. While he was getting gas he heard crying. He thought the high-pitched sound was made by birds at first. He went to investigate, and to his surprise, he unearthed the box of kittens, who were so small their umbilical cords were still attached.

He has a dog and cat at home. Life is precious to him. He brought the kittens home and called a Vet who gave him some idea of what to do and what to feed the kittens, not understanding that these kittens were newborns, called neonates, and that they needed more care than a kind-hearted soul could give them.

I got a call about Sal needing help so I called him, concerned about what I’d heard. I had no idea how serious the situation was either, but I asked, truly urged Sal to let my rescue, Kitten Associates, have the kittens. I’d called Jeannie, one of our foster moms who has a lot of experience with kittens, far more than I do, and she was on standby to take them.

Sal wanted to try to provide care. His girlfriend was home all day and would stay up and watch over the kittens. Less than a day later, I got a call that the kittens weren’t doing so well. I rushed to reach Jeannie and she changed plans to take the kittens as soon as possible. I worried we were too late.

Within an hour of Jeannie getting the kittens, one of them died in her arms. A little black and white kitten who didn’t have a name, who didn’t live more than a day. That life was over before it began and we were all heartbroken.

The prognosis for the other kitten wasn’t so good either. This little black kitten was very thin and not very lively. Jeannie took a photo of him for me. She put a Chapstick next to the kitten to show me just how tiny he was. It was a shocking sight.

Jeannie stayed up all night with him, trying to get him to take nourishment, trying to get him to warm up, but he wasn’t responding very well and seemed depressed. We all knew about Failure to Thrive or Fading Kitten Syndrome-when due to illness, gestational issues (born too soon or developmental issues) or some times it’s not even known why, some kittens just don’t make it. They are too weak, too fragile and once that process starts they usually die very quickly.

©2014 Jeannie G. The lone survivor moments after entering our rescue.

By morning I got the call that the second kitten was dying, too. I fell into a long crying jag. I’d never even met the kittens, yet my anguish in losing them was not diminished. I was told the kitten was struggling to breathe and that it was just a matter of time.

I wanted to hurt someone, specifically I wanted to hurt whoever robbed these innocents of their life. They didn’t ask to be born, but they were here, so let us respect that. Ask for help from a local rescue. Reach out to SOMEONE. There are many resources where you can get help. Why would anyone THROW THESE KITTENS AWAY? I don’t understand. I don’t understand how cruel this person could be and I worried about the mom cat. What became of her? But I could do nothing other than sob for what will never be–two kittens having a chance to grow and thrive and live a wonderful life. Now it would not happen and as bad as this was, I worried about what this heartache would do to Jeannie, too.

Early that afternoon I texted Jeannie. I hadn’t heard from her that the kitten had died so I wanted to check in. I asked if he was gone and she answered, “no.” I asked; “is that good?” and she replied, “no.” I knew it meant the end was near. I hung my head and cried some more. That was all I heard for a few more hours, until my phone rang. It was Jeannie.

©2014 Jeannie G. First look at Midnight after surviving the second night.

“Well you’re never going to believe this.” she said. “The guy who found the kittens, well he put an ad on craigslist looking for a mom-cat to put the kittens with and he found one. He gave me their info so I called them and I brought the kitten over to them. This couple really knows about kitten care and the guy is like some sort of crazy cat whisperer. He’s got the kitten and he is going to do everything he can to keep him going.”

“Wait…so the kitten is not DEAD?”

“Right. He’s alive, but I have to tell you I don’t think he’s going to make it.”

©2014 Jeannie G. Little Man.

I didn’t want to shoot off fireworks and proclaim all was well with the world, but I had a glimmer of hope that somehow he would make it. Jeannie told me that she had stayed up all night and tried to get the little kitten to eat every hour or so. By morning he was doing so poorly and she was so tired, she finally gave up. She let herself sleep for a few hours, leaving the kitten in a warmed up blanket in a box next to her bed. She knew when she woke up that he would be gone, but when she woke up and touched him he cried. He was hungry. She fed him, but he was still very weak and probably fading away.

With nothing to lose, Jeannie brought the kitten to Jonathan and his wife Christal. Over that night we heard no updates. In fact I was wondering if it was some crazy tall tale and that this guy didn’t even exist. I couldn’t get his contact info, but I knew Jeannie was exhausted so I didn’t bother her to get it. I called Sal and asked for the info but he never called me back. Almost a day later I got the number from Jeannie, but she said the number was disconnected. I called it and sure enough, the phone was off! What happened to the kitten? I had to know.

©2014 Robin A.F. Olson. Unable to right himself, Midnight wobbles. I assure you we quickly helped him adjust his position (see below), but I include it so you can see how TINY his legs and paws are.

Jeannie said she was going to go back to the home. I asked to go with her but she said it wasn’t necessary and that these folks were very private. I was jumping out of my skin, but there was nothing I could do. I had to keep waiting and wondering what I’d find out.

Not long after I got another message and a new phone number. The couple had recently moved here and had coincidently just gotten a new phone number. Not only that, but Jeannie had just been to the home and believe it or not, the kitten was STILL ALIVE. She said in 15 years of being a nurse, of working with little kittens, she was impressed with what this guy did to keep the kitten going. She said the kitten looked a little better, still very week, still far too tiny; that he was put with a mama-cat who accepted him and 4 new sisters who crowded around him to keep him warm. I was thrilled and anxious to offer support. I couldn’t let this good deed go unrewarded.

©2014 Robin A.F. Olson.

I was finally able to get in touch with Christal while Jonathan tended to the kitten. I offered them food, goat’s milk, whatever they needed. I offered to help them with placing and vetting the kittens and getting mom spayed one day. I couldn’t do enough to help them, but they were probably shocked that a stranger would want to do so much, so it took a few emails and calls and finally we set it up so that the next day I could bring them supplies as a gesture of thanks and of support.

Thanks to some donations we already received, I was able to buy a few cases of cat food, some hybrid grain-free dry/raw food and some goat’s milk with probiotics in it. I bought the kitten and his family a very soft, flat bed, no sides for him to get hung up on. I had some toys that were donated to us so I grabbed a bunch for the adult cats and the kittens for when they got bigger. I knew the couple had children so I packed up a donation of plush cats so the kids weren’t left out.

©2014 Robin A.F. Olson. My trunk loaded with goodies.

My rescue has been very lucky to be on the receiving end of many acts of generosity, but it was nice to be able to pay it forward. It had only been 2 days since the kittens were found and here I was in a part of a nearby town I’d never been to, hoping what I’d heard was really true and that this kitten was still with us.

I expected that when I met Jonathan he’d be tired, but this poor guy was loopy from being exhausted. He came out and met me after Christal had welcomed me into their home. He’s a young man, wearing a t-shirt and jeans, barefoot, with his hair askew. He apologized for just waking up even though it was mid-afternoon. I told him not to be sorry and that I truly appreciated what he was doing. I couldn’t wait to find out how the kitten was doing when he quickly left the room and returned, holding the little guy out to me in his hands.

©2014 Robin A.F. Olson. Literally and figuratively-Midnight is in good hands now.

What I saw didn’t make sense. I’ve seen plenty of little kittens in my day, but this one was so tiny I didn’t know how it was alive. This little guy was born VERY EARLY. He had to be premature. He was weak, but feisty. We put him on the cat bed and he wobbled around. His paw was maybe ¼ the width of my finger, but he had tiny claws just like a grown up. I couldn’t make out much of his face because he was all black. Then I saw it-a white locket of fur on his chest. It was barely the size of a pencil tip but it was there. It made me gasp as my own cat, Cricket, bears the same mark. I had only a moment to see him before he was put back with his mom to keep warm, but in that moment I was completely in awe.

©2014 Robin A.F. Olson. Fussy feeding time while Cupcake looks on.

Jonathan spoke at a rapid fire pace. I asked him how he got this far and he told me so much that it made my head spin. He said he’d lived on a farm and had raised hundreds of kittens over the years. He knew about fading kitten syndrome but he was not about to let that beat him. He told me how he slowly but carefully got the kitten’s core temp to rise, how he made up some homemade Karyo syrup to get his blood sugar up. He gave the kitten, who he calls Midnight, an extremely minute dose of amoxycylin and something that helped perk up his electrolytes. I was aghast. Whatever he was doing resulted in this little guy latching on to his new mom for a moment. It caused this little guy to allow being syringe fed a tiny amount of milk. This kitten was reacting to the world around him even though he was far too weak to do much more than wiggle against sensations like being held or being syringe fed that he didn't understand yet.

Jonathan felt the kitten had been depressed from being alone, but now had become more energized now that he was with his new family. The fight was back in his heart. This little kitten wanted to live again and Jonathan was going to do whatever it took to keep him going.

I wished I could take Jonathan home with me so we could write everything down-so this information would not be lost, but I also had to wonder if there was just something about him and his wife, too, that was something more than just knowledge—maybe it was their faith? I told them that I’d posted the photo of the kitten on Facebook and asked for good wishes and prayers and that almost 30,000 people had been rooting for this little guy to live, but the news didn’t effect them. They were so focused on this one fragile life that that was all that mattered. I also knew they were both exhausted.

©2014 Robin A.F. Olson. So very tiny!

I thanked them again. I didn’t stay long. Jonathan needed rest and the kitten needed more meals. I promised to help them cover the costs of the vetting, spay/neutering of their current litter of cats AND the second litter (yes there’s a second pregnant cat in the home-they assumed the cat was a boy because it was an orange tabby and it’s less common for the orangies to be female). I will help them find good homes. I offered to take some of the kittens into our program but right now they want to see the kittens placed themselves. I honestly am so indebted to them I would move mountains for what they’ve done. I know it may not last. I know this kitten is far from being out of the woods, but I am trying to have faith that he will be okay.

©2014 Robin A.F. Olson. Ready for more nourishment.

Day four, I get news. The kitten is still with us. Not only that, but they sent me a photo that says it all-there is little Midnight, front legs stretched out, attached with all he’s got on his new mom’s nipple, drinking in mouthfuls of life. In his joy, I was told he purred. I can’t believe it was possible, but after what has transpired over the past few days, I better learn to believe that at this point, anything can happen.

©2014 Christal P. Midnight surrounded by his new siblings.

Day six. Guess who is still with us? Midnight eats more from his new mama now and is a little bit bigger. Christal estimates he’s the size of a 2-day old kitten. She feels he can go the distance and frankly nothing would make me happier if that truly came to be.

©2014 Robin A.F. Olson. I was honored to have a moment to be able to meet Midnight's sisters who are all adorable torties. They are almost the same age as Midnight, but so much bigger.

Midnight, his new mom, his 4 new sisters, a dad and another mom and her as-yet-to-be-born kittens will all need to be spayed or neutered, vetted and have proper food and care. I would like to be able to provide that care for these families, which I estimate to cost over $1000.00 as long as no one gets sick or needs critical care. I’m passing around the hat in the hopes that in honor of this precious life we all are blessed to have, that you will consider sharing your love with this family.

And as for little “Chapstick,” you go boy. You get big and strong and have a wonderful, precious life.

©2014 Christal P. I love this photo. Midnight stretching out on his mom while her sister (who is also going to give birth soon) reaches out to comfort the little guy .

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March 26, 2014 UPDATE

A GENEROUS FRIEND OF KITTEN ASSOCIATES IS OFFERING TO MATCH YOUR DONATION DOLLAR FOR DOLLAR UP TO $500.00! So far we've raised $200.00 so our target is just $300.00 more!

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March 27, 2014 UPDATE

WE MADE OUR GOAL!!! THANK YOU EVERYONE FOR HELPING LITTLE MIDNIGHT and his new family!

Fundraising services either ask for a donation towards their service to direct your funds to PayPal or they take a percentage of your funds before it goes to PayPal. PayPal also takes a cut.

To maximize every contribution, we’re asking you simply go to our web site and press the Donate button which will take you directly to PayPal. Once we reach our target, I will update this post and end the fundraiser.

©2014 Robin A.F. Olson. One of Midnight's sisters.

March 26 UPDATE ON MIDNIGHT, “Chapstick”

HAPPY ONE WEEK BIRTHDAY little one! Midnight has lived a week, is growing and eating much better. He also doesn't sit still for photos.

©2014 Christal P. I will never stop being amazed to know that Midnight lived another day. Look at how much bigger he is today!

Chelsea Ellis, of Angels of Assisi in Roanoke, VA didn't waste a minute after Big Daddy arrived at their shelter barely a week ago. This morning Big D. made his first television appearance on the Fox 21 27 Morning News segment called Furry Friends.

What amazes me is Big Daddy has only been off the streets for about a month all told. First Warren trapped him by Home Depot, thinking he was an injured feral, but he quickly discovered his first thoughts were wrong. Big Daddy's story took another turn that once again left us in awe shortly after I covered his tale and Chelsea Ellis read about him.

With all the love and fuss over Big Daddy, I feel very hopeful his forever family will find him soon. Whoever they are are very lucky folks. I can't imagine anyone meeting him and not falling in love.

I hope the next chapter in his story is about just that—finding home.

Big Daddy Makes the Morning News on Fox 21/27

Read the entire The Accidental Feral Series

Part One Warren traps an injured feral, who ends up surprising everyone

Part Two Big Daddy's Trip to the Angels