As Hurricane Earl churns in the Atlantic, I sit and wait and wonder if it's going to behave and only give the folks here in Connecticut a glancing blow of high winds and torrential rain or if the weather reports will be wrong and Earl will take a devious leap west and blast us with its' Category 2 fury.

I realized that should we ever take a direct hit that I have nowhere to go that would allow cats-and certainly not foster cats that also have ringworm. I couldn't even put them in the car with the healthy cats.

I'd be forced to stay behind.

So Sam and I got up at 6AM. This was not my idea of a good time. No one should get up until at least 9AM and 10AM would be even better. Anyway, we wanted to get to the grocery store and buy some non-perishable items like pudding cups, nuts, chocolate covered raisins. You know-important things that will keep us healthy if we lose power—which happens if you fart too hard around here. We expect the power will go out-which also means, no WATER.

We live in a house where everything is run by electricity-including the pump that goes to our 390' deep well. That means no shower and NO FLUSHING. Not fun. We have those 5 gallon bottles of water and a dispenser. Some of the bottles are empty so we filled them with tap water. Ah ha! Now we will be able to flush, though holding a 40 pound jug of water, aiming over the toilet tank, then hoping you don't miss and dump it all over the floor or miss and get it into the toilet BOWL, which would splatter whatever was currently IN the bowl all over the walls.

Gosh, I hope the power doesn't go out tomorrow. I just don't think there's enough bleach in the world to clean my walls after that.

As I wait to find out if my little house in the woods is going to be decimated by Hurricane Earl, I thought I'd catch you up on a BUNCH of news...in no particular order...

1. HOPE IS OUT OF THE ANIMAL HOSPITAL!

Her leg, HELLO!, is HEALED! She will walk just fine. She beat the infections, but traded them off for a cold. That said she is well enough now to go into foster care. I heard her foster home is terrific and her rescuers, called The Cat Women, should be getting a check from me via Sweetwater Vet Hospital, to cover ALL of HOPE's medical bills! There will be a bit left over and that will go into a fund to help other cats who need vet care.

HOPE has a new name: Ariel. This will mark her new journey. In a very strange coincidence, Ariel's foster mom is none other than Mary Jo-who is the subject of item number 2!

2. BIG, ORANGE MAINE COON IS SAFE!

Big Orange's owner is a senior citizen with dementia who cannot care for her cat and whose (jerkwad) of a son refuses to allow the cat in the house! The poor cat has been attacked by local (equally jerky) kids. Mary Jo (sound familiar?) stepped up to help rescue this big lug. When news got out about his troubles lots of folks chimed in, willing to help. I got the word out to my rescue babes and one of them offered to give him a home. I can't say more than that because the details aren't worked out, but even if not, Big Orange is SAFE. Mary Jo got him today only to find out the (jerkwad of the century) son now wants to get a puppy since the cat is gone. Is there no justice for this cat? Perhaps a wonderful life in a better home will do the trick?

©2010 Mary Jo. Her original poster trying to find help for Big Orange.

3. RINGWORM. WE HAVE A WINNER! (or is that LOSER?)

There aren't enough swear words to cover how I feel about Pattycake getting ringworm. She had it in transport, but only a tiny dot on her ear. I didn't even NOTICE what you see below. Granted the area was shaved after Dr. Larry's Vet Tech, Mighty Lauren found it!

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Fungus Amongus.

And of course, a few days later I felt some "crud" on her brother, Moonpie's ear so he's got it, too. Both cats are in the bathroom for eternity, or another month. Then they will be 5 months old and even harder to find a forever home for. If this is as bad as it gets I will be grateful. If the 4 little kittens in the foster room get it, too...that will be really bad...if my cats get it...well...not good...not good at all.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. They share everything...ugh.

4. Bob has a URI. Spencer has really bad feline acne that I just can't get rid of, Nicky PEED on the floor right in front of us so he's at the Vet getting tests done and poor Gracie's dermatitis just won't go away!

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Bob. No fever but sneezing and coughing. My poor baby!

This is why having TWO cats is nice. If one gets sick, no problem. If both got sick, no problem! When they ALL start to get sick? PROBLEM! Having EIGHT CATS is NOT FOR SOMEONE WITH A WEAK CONSTITUTION-which is WHY I should have TWO CATS!

4. Jasper County Animal Control STILL NEEDS A FEW MORE CATS RESCUED SO THEY WON'T HAVE TO PUT ANY KITTIES DOWN. BUT...

Thanks to Barb Lowe at Winging Cat Rescue and two other rescue groups, five cats from Jasper were saved, along with three others from Douglas and eight by our friend Joan Flores in TN, along with six from Heard County and three more who were supposedly rescued but their rescue DUMPED THEM!!!!!...so they were RE-RESCUED!

©2010 Jasper Co. Animal Control. This is Frances.

That's 25 MORE CATS SAVED!!!

©2010 Jasper Co. Animal Control. This is Maybelline.

©2010 Jasper Co. Animal Control. This is Saber. Yay Saber!

Yes, there's a price for rescuing all these cats. Barb needs Scotch and a vacation somewhere quiet AND she needs $400.00 to cover transport. Let's show her how we can help her money woes disappear and thank her for all her hard work, saving these babies!

5. My little kittens are pushing three pounds a piece, except for Cinnie-Minnie who is just a tiny little thing.

Oh, and they're super cute, but I don't get to spend nearly enough time with them!

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. From left to right: Yodel, Sugar Pie, Honey B. and Cinnamon.

6. Little Maria WILL be having her surgery next week! Stay tuned for LOTS MORE NEWS ABOUT THIS BIG EVENT FOR A LITTLE KITTY!

That is if my power doesn't go out tomorrow...and Earl keeps his distance.

UPDATE: Hope is NOT DOING WELL. She IS at Sweetwater, but the infection in her leg is not improving. She may lose her leg. Her kidney values are poor. They are trying to raise at LEAST $600 for her care but undoubtedly, she will need more than that...she could also use some prayers and good wishes.

WARNING: GRAPHIC PHOTO BELOW

A little kitten named Hope is just 3-4 months old. She's languishing from a serious infection due to a traumatic injury. She is HALF the weight she should be for her age. We need to raise funds for her AS SOON AS WE CAN. I don't have a Chip In Widget for them, but they DO ASK FOR DONATIONS TO BE SENT TO:

Sweetwater Creek Animal Clinic

2785 Lee Rd.

Lithia Springs. GA 30122

678-838-7387

From my contact in Georgia, she tells us some background of what happened:

No: 4615 Name: HOPE Age: 3-4 months old

This poor little kitty arrived at the shelter on 8/12 with a large fish hook threaded through her lower stomach and into her upper leg. She was taken to the vet, and it was removed.

Unfortunately, Hope is not eating or drinking and really needs 'round the clock care to help pull her through the trauma of this experience.

We have no idea how this happened to her but it's heartbreaking to see those weak, pleading-for-help eyes, and know that she really needs someone to hand-feed, and give her the time and attention she needs to help raise her low spirits.

If you can help this little girl by providing a FOSTER HOME or are with a RESCUE GROUP THAT CAN PROVIDE CARE for her while she recovers from her injury, please contact:

Pat Hopper - Douglas County Transporterpnh1918@aol.com

Home: 770-577-7743 Cell: 404-725-0393

Please help me spread the word about getting this kitten the funding she needs to survive! I realize that calling a Vet to offer a donation or taking the time to write a check and mail it is a pain in the butt, but this kitten deserves our time and effort. I sure hope you can all pitch in to help this little one!

As always...THANK YOU for spreading the word!

Rest in peace, sweet angel.

Jill had a seizure today. Was it due to her poor body condition? She was skin and bones, after all. She was abandoned by her owner when she moved away. The woman's roomate gave her up to Henry County-just passing off what she considered a problem...an inconvenience...a cost...to the County.

Since Jill was emaciated, it's very likely no one even bothered to feed her for a long time, or fed her food that wasn't appropriate for a cat. Perhaps Jill had an underlying problem that was amplified by lack of nutrition or perhaps Jill was a senior cat. We will never know the cause. We will never know more than she did not recover after her seizure. Since there is no Vet on staff, nor money to get her to a Vet, she was euthanized.

Could she have been saved? I don't honestly know. I know that even in her last day, Betsy remarked that she LOVED this girl and that this pretty tux was very loving right back to her. Is it some comfort to us to know this? I'm not even sure it is.

Anyone who reads this blog, probably loves cats dearly and we would easily agree that this cat, like so many others, is not trash to be tossed to the curb and left to slowly die. She knew love from Betsy and the other volunteers at the Shelter, but their hands are often tied. There is little they can do. They have no money for flea treatments, and barely any for food or litter, how can they afford Vet care that we take for granted?

I'm so sorry to tell you all this sad news after we just enjoyed a happy ending for KoKo-now Sophie, but we all know that this is the fate more often than not, of most cats who are taken to municipal shelters.

...and until we can find a solution, there will be more sad stories to come.

I'm sick and tired of assholes dumping their “problem” cats upon innocent animal shelters, Vets, mom & pop rescue groups. They're all targets for COWARDS, who refuse to STEP UP and DO the RIGHT THING for their animals. Instead, under the cover of darkness, they sneak up to the door of these places, DUMP their dog or cat, then take off. Some times they leave a note. I bet it's to make them feel better for the shitty thing they're about to do. “Well, I'll leave a note so they'll be sure to know I'm DUMPING the cat, not that the cat got left her by some freak accident.”

This afternoon, I was contacted by our friend, Betsy at Henry County Care & Control in McDonough, GA. She had just finished crying. Betsy has been helping rescue animals from Henry County for decades. She's seen it all and more, yet she's still brokenhearted by people's cruelty to animals.

A cat named KoKo, was brought to Henry County via Animal Control. On Saturday, the cat was DUMPED at the doorstep of a local Vet. They weren't even OPEN so the cat sat there for a day in a crate in the blistering heat! Once the Vet found the cat, they called Animal Control and now the poor thing is on Death Row at HCACC. They are full up! They don't have room to add countless animals to their facility.

KoKo is a brown tabby. Nothing exotic. Not a cute little kitten. Just another cat, whose owners are scum of the Earth. Now this cat has a few days left to live. She can compete for the very few available placements with a rescue or hope that some kind soul will adopt her and give her a DECENT home.

Why did the cat get dumped? Was she aggressive? NO! Was she...I don't know. I can't THINK of any reasons why I'd give up my CATS!!!! I would work with them to find out how to fix whatever behaviors they exhibit that bother me-even if they're doing what is natural to them. Sure, it's tough when the cat pees on the floor, or worse, on your clothes or bed, but when you figure out WHY, then it's better not only for you, but for the cat, too.

So KoKo had little cutesy-pie notes in her carrier. If you read them, your head will burn up and explode...okay, maybe not, but you'll certainly see the bullshit from a mile away and your blood pressure will go up for sure!

This so called “family” adopted KoKo when she was a kitten, since they know her birthday. Oh boy, they drove an entire hour and a half to get her, but apparently, when things didn't work out, they couldn't drive a few minutes to a f-ing VET!

Ahh, the good old “we can't afford the Vet” line-another classic. Did you try to TALK to your VET and work something out? I bet if you got off your lazy, selfish ass you might have found out that the Vet would have taken small payments over time or given you a break, but apparently, that long long, exhausting drive must have been the ONLY thing you did to make an effort for your cat. It's just TOO MUCH to ask that you, the caretaker of this animal, decide that the best thing to do is NOT ask ANY local rescue for help, NOT contact ANYONE, just tip toe up to the door of the Vet, like a common thief and dump your cat! SHAME ON YOU!

I love the way the note is written first hand, as though poor KoKo had written the plea for help, herself. Look at the charming little postscripts! How nice to tell the VICTIM (Vet) who found her that she had some shots. You're so (NOT) nice! Who wouldn't just LOVE the person who wrote this CRAP!!!

What a faux-thoughtful letter. What nice handwriting. It must have taken hours of careful preparation to write this CRAP. You're not fooling anyone-COWARD!

Poor KoKo. Scared and dumped in a cage. She has no idea what she did to deserve this fate.

If KoKo really HAD written the note, I think this is what she would have said:

Dear Vet,

I got adopted by real assholes. They feed me lousy food and pay me little attention. One of them kicks me if I do anything they don't like, so I'm not so sure I can trust people. I'm not very happy where I live, in fact, I hate it. I've been feeling sick for a long time and they ignore me. I tried to get their attention by pooping on the floor, but they just yelled and rubbed my nose in it. I started peeing, too, but that was because my bladder burns real bad and I can't hold it in. I wish they would feed me better food and take me to the cat doctor so I could feel good again.

When no one cared about me, I finally gave up and just pooped and peed everywhere I could. One of them said he would kill me, so the other one said she would “deal with me” whatever that means.

So here I am, at your doorstep. I guess I got away from those horrible people, but now I'm in a jam. I don't have a place to live and I heard if I don't have one, either I will slowly starve to death living outdoors or I will be put to death at those places where they keep all the animals people give up on. I wish I could talk. I would only tell you that if you could help me feel better, I would be such a good friend to you. I would give you kisses and sleep on your lap and tell you I love you, in my way, but something tells me, maybe it's too late for me...

...but at least I'm away from those assholes.

Sincerely yours,

KoKo

P.S. Please change my name so I can forget my awful past.

--------------------------------------------------------

But wait! There's more! One note was simply not enough! Betsy believes this one was probably written by the same person, but used the hand they don't normally write with so it looks like a kid wrote it. If a kid really DID write this, then their parents should be tossed in JAIL for abuse!

The bullshit parade continues! Maybe if they spent the time it took to write these notes to CALL their VET and work something out, this would not have happened!

“TO WHOEVER WROTE THIS:" YOU SUCK.

Betsy tells me that KoKo has PERFECT litter box habits. She's probably not sick and if she had a behavior issue with the other cats she lived with, that could have been resolved-IF ANYONE HAD BOTHERED TO GET OF THEIR LAZY ASS AND TRY TO HELP THIS CAT.

SO...

WE NEED TO FIND A RESCUE PLACEMENT OR ADOPTER FOR THIS POOR, 2 year old CAT. INFO ON HOW TO HELP HER IS BELOW. As always, go with your heart. If you can't help her out, then help get the word out to everyone you know. Let's show KoKo that not all people SUCK-just the ones she lived with.

PLEASE REFER TO THIS ID# 8/16-3406 when contacting HCC&C.

Nice tabby “M” I see! Lovely girl!

We are very rescue friendly and are more than happy to work with any rescue group as long as the group has a valid Georgia Department of Agriculture license! Any rescue group, whether in or out of state, that takes pets from Georgia shelters, is required, by Georgia law, to have a rescue license issued by the Georgia Department of Agriculture's Animal Protection Division. Having tax exempt status is not the same as a license. For more information on obtaining a license, please call (404) 656-4914.

Contact:

mystiblu@bellsouth.net

Henry County Animal Care and Control

527 Hampton Street

McDonough, Georgia 30253

(770) 288-7401

http://www.petfinder.com/shelters/GA67.html

Our Hours:

Monday-Friday: 9 am-4:30 pm

Saturday: 9 am-1 pm

Sunday: Closed

County Observed Holidays: Closed

The shelter is located at 527 Hampton Street in McDonough. We are located south of Atlanta off I-75. Take exit 218 and head east on 20/81 toward McDonough. Our address is 527 Hwy 20/81 East.

For all other information regarding ordinances, county codes, and other functions of Henry County Animal Care and Control please visit www.hcacc.org

UPDATE: A number of good people have offered to provide donations to sponsor KoKo if she's given a good foster home or placement at a never-Kill shelter. If you're with a rescue group and can help her, contact me and I'll send donations your way. info@coveredincathair.com

It was purely coincidence that we ran an article about the forgotten cats at Animals in Distress, a small local shelter that's been struggling to find donations, volunteers and adopters. We profiled Gizmo, one of the sweet adults available for adoption. He was being mercilessly picked on by Moose, one of the other cats at the shelter. Luckily for Gizmo, just as we posted the article about him, one of the volunteers fell in love with him and decided to take him home. Hopefully he will blend in well with the other kitties in the family and if it all works out, Giz has a place to stay for life.

I love hearing about adults getting a good home, but of course, just as Gizmo leaves, an apple-head Siamese named Clive, was given up by his owners. Carole, the President of A.I.D. could not turn him away. She knew he deserved a chance at find a great home. The reason he was surrendered? Not that he's mean or unfriendly. NO. They're MOVING and “can't take him.”

I don't understand that and never will. If you adopt an animal and you move, you take it with you. You don't leave your KIDS or your Partner behind when you move do you? You don't, on purpose, move to an apartment that does not allow pets, right? If they say NO to pets, then you find somewhere else to live? I'm not solving world peace here. Come on. This excuse is really getting tiresome to hear-and I seem to be hearing it every day.

I'm starting to wonder if we, who do rescue, make it easier for people to dump their pets. Think about it. If all rescues said "NO!" when someone pulls the "moving" or "no pets" excuse, then maybe they would step up and take responsibility for their pets for the LIFE of that pet, not just until the novelty wears off?

I know. Who am I kidding?

Sometimes I just want to slap people. Not you. Of course.

Sam and I have a running joke. Often, we'll be watching mind-numbing tv shows about "real" life murder mysteries. Nine times out of ten, the narrator says; "We'll never really know for sure..." This is after we spent an HOUR of our time watching and wondering how the story will end. To hear it's "we'll never really know" not only defeats the entire purpose of watching the show in the first place, it also pisses me off good!

If I'm going to waste my time in front of the TV, I need RESOLUTION (pardon the pun).

So my dear Spencer and I went to visit Dr. Larry. I was fully prepared for him to give me shit about ripping out my own cat's fur, that I'm a stupid pet owner and it's nothing to worry about-other than being stupid makes me worry. I just wasn't careful enough removing Spencer's mats and "baldness happens."

Dr Larry didn't let me down. After a few minutes pretending he was calling the "authorities" to report me for abusing my cat, he sat down to take a good look.

The two, nearly symmetrical bald patches don't have any crusting or oozing. They're both about 2 x 3 inches. The skin is pink. Spencer doesn't seem to be itchy. Dr. Larry turned off the lights. We weren't alone so there was no hope for a makeout session. Dang! Oh, he was just using the Wood's Lamp to check for...oh shit...RINGWORM!

The smile on my face weakened into a razor straight line. I kept thinking; Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit! NOT RINGWORM!!!!!!

I looked while Dr. Larry was talking. He saw some slightly reflective scaly areas that were tiny. One of the bald spots had a slight pale white edge to it.

Well? Was it RINGWORM?

"We can't really be sure right now."

SHIT! It's like watching 48 Hrs! Change the channel! Change the channel!

With no better programming available, I was stuck in an answerless void. Dr. Larry removed a few of Spencer's hairs and placed them into a vial with some goop in it (that is a technical term; goop). The test for ringworm takes 2-3 WEEKS. Meanwhile, there is nothing else to be done. We decided to run a full blood panel to rule out hypothyroid (even if it's rare in most cats, I've already had one cat who had it and Dr. Larry knows my cats get weird stuff-it's almost a rule). Plus, Spencer is due for a dental in January AND we can also check his BUN because now that we know he's a purebred Weegie (well, sort of), we're going to watchout for polycystic kidney disease, too. See? I'm smart! I know stuff! I spent $220 on the Vet visit. Wait? Is that smart? Not so sure.

Spencer did not care to have his blood drawn, as usual, but this time Super Deb showed me she still had all her fingers attached to her hand, after the blood draw was finished. The only injury was to the towel they restrained Spencer with. It had to be put down due to it being ripped to shreds.

So am I a stupid pet owner?

We'll never really know for sure...

It doesn't suprise anyone that I want to do the BEST I can for each of my "resident" cats, as well as my fosters, but it isn't always possible. I realize that having seven cats (plus God knows how many fosters) means that each cat might not get everything they need every day. Sure, they get FED daily, and if I'm not feeling too lazy, I slug their water fountain over to the sink to rinse it out every few days (and they get a small bowl of fresh water every day, too). I try to play with the cats and give them each, at least a few minutes of my time. Some get more than others. Some gravitate to Sam, so that lightens the load a bit, but it has to be tough on the cats-especially Gracie and Petunia.

Gracie came to me six years ago as an "unwed Mother" with her three offspring. Because I had trouble placing her and her daughter, Petunia, I decided I had room in my home to keep them. I never really had a strong bond with them, but I also didn't want to continue trying to find them homes after almost a year. I was with the wrong rescue group who put my kitten on the back burner, until she was too big to be attractive to many families, and both of the cats were skittish and showed poorly.

Over the years, Petunia has developed territorial aggression and some aggression towards a few of the other cats. She did a lot of inappropriate urination, which drove me mad. Getting a consult with a behaviorist, seeing my Vet, reading about cat behavior, I came to be able to work with Petunia, to a point. Clearly, she feels she is not getting enough attention and does not care to have other cats in "her" space-like my bedroom. I've worked on giving her more attention and playtime, but, again, with the duties of a foster mom and the other cats having their issues, there isn't a lot of time for her. It's my fault.

Meanwhile, it's been a YEAR since Gracie began her odyssey with Miliary Dermatitis, possibly brought on by her own high strung emotional state. Gracie will RUN if anyone comes close to her. Partly it was from all the medications and baths she's gotten over the past year, partly because she is a nervous cat. She's been pulling out her fur, over grooming herself and vomiting it up. I haven't seen her pull her fur, but there are clear signs something is going on. Even with all this, Gracie STILL wants to sleep near me at night and still wants attention, but is fearful if I step closer to pet her.

Dr. Larry says to re-home the both of them. As I've written before, they are 6 and 9 years old. It would be VERY tough to find them a home I'd feel was good enough to care for them. I'd also miss them. They do have some adorable qualities! I just wish they could relax...

So, after all this time, I've decided to try one last thing-Elavil. Yes, my cats are on anti-anxiety meds. Here I am, studying cat behavior, trying to help other people with their cats, when my own are so messed up I finally decided to medicate them. Surely, there is another way? Surely if there is, I'm not sure what it would be at this point.

I started Gracie on 10mg, once per day. In two days, whatever existed of Gracie's personality was gone. She was lifeless and very depressed. She didn't run off, but she seemed to lose interest in life. She ate like a pig, but stayed by herself, not wanting to be around anyone else. I could not get near her. I took her off the meds for a week, spoke with Super-Deb, the Vet tech, and decided to halve the dose and see if that helped.

Right around this time, I was seeing more and more aggression from Petunia towards Nora-who was doing NOTHING, just minding her own business. Unprovoked attacks on the rise, another call to Super-Deb and we agreed it was time to put Petunia on the other half dose.

Both girls have been on the half dose for a week now. Gracie is perky, eating well, wants to be close to me, but is still nervous. Her skin improved with a shot of vetalog and I'm waiting to see if it STAYS that way now she's not so nervous. So far, so good. Just a tiny outbreak, but not bad. She likes to visit me at night and purrs and like her pets, she's just not quite so stressed out.

Petunia seemed more clingy to her mom, but also seemed to be less high strung. I thought it was going all right, but in the past day she's actually gotten MORE aggressive towards Nora. Is she fighting her "mellow" feelings by overcompensating her attacks? I put her on the full 10mg dose today to see if that makes a difference.

My hope is to give it a month and re-evaluate. If the girls are doing better, I may continue it another month or may wean them off it slowly. I want them to gain confidence and reduce aggression or self-multilation. I WANT THEM TO BE HAPPY, but the price they have to pay to get there is the problem. I hope, in the end, it's worth it. Right now it feels like I'm running out of options. This is my last chance to make it work for them to continue living here.

They said if I could keep him restrained for five minutes that should do it. Who were they kidding?

Two seconds in and my right bicep had already endured multiple lacerations. I was convinced my left eye was in imminent danger. I should have put a shirt on before attempting this. In fact, safety goggles were probably in order. How could an otherwise docile 8 year-old be so strong?

Four seconds in and I wasn’t sure how much longer I would last. This is what I get for skipping Total Body, I thought to myself.

Dr. Larry didn't see anything that would cause concern on Bob's x-ray, but as you know, x-rays don't show everything. Bob's blood panel came back mostly just fine, but there was one serious value, that of his ALT or liver function. Bob's always had a high ALT, up to about 450 or so, when in the 20-100 is normal. Bob was on Denamarin for a long time, but when he was sick last year, I took him off it. Last May his ALT was down to 236, which we all considered to be good news. Today it was in the 700's!

I don't know if Bob's fall injured his liver or that his liver is in bad shape and it was just fate that we found out he was in trouble after his fall. Or, if Bob had a heart attack since ALT can raise from heart ailments, too.

Bob's already back on the Denamarin and to be extra careful, I'm taking Bob to VREC in Norwalk early tomorrow afternoon to get an ultrasound done of his liver. Going there means giving them my wallet, but so be it. I will do whatever it takes for Bob.

Bob's home. He ate well for me and then had a big drink of water. He's hanging out, watching what's going on. I wish he'd get on his fluffy bed and rest, but maybe it's good that he's alert.

Thursday I'm supposed to fly to Chicago to attend Petsmart Charities Feline Forum. I can't leave here knowing Bob's health is at risk. I hope to get some answers tomorrow and find out if it's OK for me to leave Bob for a few days. Sam will be here, but he tells me he'll be away from home for a long chunk of the day on Friday and he's busy with work. I'm really the hawk when it comes to keeping an eye on how the cats are doing.

By the way, we measured the distance Bob fell so I can tell the Vet tomorrow-16.6 feet. If he fell a few inches closer to the deck, he would have hit some large rocks. It made me sick to realize that. I just hope Bob will be all right. I'm scared to know what they'll find out tomorrow. I fear that this is the beginning of the end for him.

This chapter is a difficult one to write both physically and emotionally. Last night I wrestled with whether or not I should leave out what happened and just keep this as a positive, uplifting story, but that's not how life goes some times.

The truth is, socializing feral kittens can be difficult, frustrating and painful. It's part of the process. Some times all the work is for naught. Some times we have to accept the results we get, knowing we did our best. Some times things go beautifully and without a hitch and it's just another notch on our belt of success.

Yesterday, though Tweetie was mellow and friendly, the three kittens I introduced him to, didn't care for him one bit. Poor Tweetie wanted to fit in and play, but they just hissed and arched their tiny backs. Eventually, Tweetie hissed back and ran off to hide in his carrier. I got them all to play together and eat in close proximity, but clearly the kittens were all stressed.

Tweetie putting up with hisses from Sprinkles

Pixie, is not thrilled, while Tweetie looks to make friends elsewhere.

At 6pm Sprinkles' adoptive family come to see her again. Since they also wanted to see Tweetie, I left him in the room, instead of moving him to his private quarters.

Still hoping to make friends. Tweetie tries his luck with Twinkles.

Friend or Foe? Who's that knocking upon my door?

It was clear, fairly quickly, that all the kittens were stressed during the visit. Because it was important that Sprinkles show well, I realized I needed to move Tweetie to his room. Tweetie was upset. I reached to scruff him and he went down right away. A good, submissive move.

Because I was distracted by the visitors, I missed scruffing Tweetie properly and grabbed his shoulder. He flipped out and bit me. Instead of moving my hand, which I SHOULD HAVE DONE, I tried to adjust my grip, but it was too late. Tweetie's teeth sunk deeply into my index finger-the same one he bit a week ago.

Instead of screaming, I calmly let him go, stood up and told him to "go to your carrier." As I walked behind him, he ran into his carrier. I shut the door, preparing to return him to his room. My finger was throbbing painfully and starting to gush blood. Sprinkles' family thought I had magic powers over cats, by getting Tweetie to obey me so quickly, but I just knew he'd run to the first, small, dark place he could find.

I summoned up the courage to be calm and excused myself from the room, bringing Tweetie with me. I put him back in his room and quietly left him to calm down while I took care of my wounds.

I have five bite marks on my finger. It hurts like Hell. I furiously cleaned my finger, fearing infection. I've been down this road before with my very own formerly feral cat, Cricket. He sent me to the hospital once when he didn't want to go to the Vet. He sunk his teeth into my hand. It swelled up like a balloon, even though I cleaned it out. I got a few shots, one in the ass, for my troubles. I wasn't sure this wound was that serious. I sure hoped it wasn't.

The family finally left and I basically fell apart. I haven't slept well for a long while and I was very upset, thinking about Tweetie. He'd made all this great progress. Would his chances of being adopted end because he bit me? Would anyone see past that and feel safe around him?

I know it was MY FAULT that Tweetie bit me. He told me, most clearly, that he was upset and I did not heed his warning signs, so the warnings became more explosive. I never should have touched a cat in the "red zone." I should have re-directed him with a toy and got him into his carrier. My fear was how would he behave now that we've had this "incident?"

I went to bed at 10pm after getting everyone fed. Normally I'm up much later, but my body was aching. I laid in bed and couldn't get comfortable. I tossed and turned, worrying about Tweetie. In my heart, even though he hurt me, I know he didn't mean it.

I got up an hour later and made some chamomile tea. It tastes like ass (actually, I never tasted an ass, so this is just a guess). I brought it into Tweetie's room, not knowing what his state of mind would be.

He was sitting on the cat condo, so I sat on the floor next to it. I didn't reach out to give him a pet, I just looked over at him. He looked at me and burbled, then cocked his head, curious as to why I wasn't petting him. He jumped off the condo and nervously ran past me. He sat on the floor and looked at me as I sipped my tea.

He got up and jumped onto my leg. As I lifted the teacup to my lips, he head-butted my elbow and burbled another greeting. I touched his back and he melted into my lap, looking up at me as if nothing tragic had happened and that everything, as far as he was concerned was just fine...and oh, could I pet him some more so he could purr louder??

So this, my friends, is part of my difficult journey with a cat who has literally gotten under my skin in so many ways. He's a good egg, I promise. I take all the blame for what happened. I'm not sure what this means for him or if it's just another bump in the road? I just hope beyond hope's limits that I can find Tweetie the loving home he so deserves and a band-aid for my finger. I seem to be out.