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Even though I've been doing some sort of cat rescue for about seven years now, I still consider myself to be naive about how things work. Something came up this week that really bugged me. Intellectually, I knew about it, but I stuffed it into one of the dark closets in my mind, so I wouldn't think about it.

I need your help. I need to come up with a better solution. I'm not sure what it is, but I hope someone can figure it out.

This has to do with TNR.

I KNOW there's a severe overpopulation of free-roaming cats in this country and beyond and I know that with ferals, there's not enough time in the world to domesticate each and every one of them, then find them all good, loving homes. Somewhere we figured out that if we can't bring them to a shelter, since they'll likely be euthanized, we opt to return them where they came from and hope they'll survive on their own or in a managed situation where they have a caregiver who feeds them and looks after their needs.

So far, this sounds great, but it falls short in one painful way.

What happens when we trap a feral and she's pregnant? Unless she's obviously pregnant, there's no way to know without doing an exam. An exam can't be done on a feral cat since they won't allow a human to handle them. This puts the trappers into a bad situation. They trap the cat. They KNOW it COULD be pregnant, but the only way to find out is to anesthetize the cat-which KILLS ANY UNBORN KITTENS it may be carrying.

Unless we can find a way to determine if a feral cat is pregnant BEFORE it is anesthetized, we'll just keep on killing kittens.

Yes, I know there are the arguments that most feral moms are usually in such poor condition to begin with, that it's very likely that their offspring will be stillborn, born with defects or will die shortly after being born. It's a VERY tough life. Trapper Jeanne tells me she rarely sees juvenile cats or kittens. They just don't survive.

So is it better that they don't ever get a chance or is there a way we can find those pregnant ferals and get them into foster homes until their kittens are born and are thriving? Last year I had a feral mom with three kittens. I socialized the kittens and they all got adopted. Mom got a barn placement with a nice family who'll look after her for the rest of her life.

(Feral Mama-right, Jelly-Belly, Elmo and Happy on their kitty condo, left)

THIS works for me. We NEED to find a way to stop aborting these little ones and find more foster homes. It's not that tough to do. If I can do it, anyone can do it.

I need some good ideas to help these cats. What do you think would help? Let's make some changes!

This is my BIRTHDAY CAKE.

No, really.

One of "my friends" made it for me. What does this mean? Does she like me?

And the answer is: No. Well, yes, but it was difficult. I wanted to throw up, but I knew that would be rude, so i just ate it. Wait 'til you see the photos of Bob, wondering if he's supposed to do his "bidness" in there!

Happy Birthday to Me!

I may no longer have to worry that when I croak, all my cats will be f-ed up the ass without the benefit of lubrication. I mean, now, with the help of the State's Legislature, I may be able to set up a Trust Fund for my cats, so that after I go to the Rainbow Bridge, my cats won't have to worry about being placed in a Shelter.

If you live in CT or want to know more about this so you can ask YOUR State's Legislature to create a similar Bill, just visit HERE.

SEE THE BILL HERE

IF you live outside of CT, you can read an informative BLOG about Pet Trusts written by Attorney Danny Meek.

Newtown, CT, my home town for the past 18 years, was a nice enough place, until last week.

For some reason, which the First Selectman, Joe Borst (who will not divulge for legal reasons), FIRED our Animal Control Officer, Carolee Mason. I can't provide both sides of this issue fairly, but I can provide one side of the issue-which is this---the people in Newtown who actually work with Carolee, like our three rescue groups and numerous Pound volunteers have all said, almost in unison, is that Carolee is a shining star, who loves and cares for the animals of Newtown, whether wild or domesticated. That her firing was unconscionable and we want her reinstated NOW!

When a wayward sheep was found on a busy road, Carolee, came to the rescue. Even though she found the owner, its' owner didn't want the sheep any more and let it run free to be devoured by coyotes or hit by a car. She brought the sheep home and paid for its' Vet care out of her own pocket, then in time was able to find the sheep a new home. And this goes far beyond a single sheep. Hundreds of dogs and cats have happy homes because of her.

Last night there was a Board Meeting of the Selectmen and a number of us showed up to protest the firing of Carolee. I was glad to see the local television news, NBC 30 WVIT, was present and ran a story about it, as well as one of our local papers. You can read more HERE

Bottom line is it sounds like bureaucratic BS is going on here. Carolees' Mother, Mildred Hawks, told me that it had to do with MINOR infractions regarding how Carolee filled out PAPERWORK! Also that she felt it had more to do with things going on with personal matters, not issues of job performance.

We NEED Carolee back in her job, NOW. Because of her, our rescue group has been able to save more cats lives. She's vivacious, compassionate, a serves the community. She goes above and beyond the call of duty for the animals in this town and without her, those animals lives will surely be put in jeopardy.

If you feel, as I do, that this firing is completely unfair and uncalled for, you can email your concerns to Joe Borst, First Selectman of Newtown, CT here: first.selectman@newtown-ct.gov

WTF!?!

I might as well have a weekly appointment locked in with my Vet. If it's not Gracie needing more tests or meds, it's one of the other cats. This time it was Nora. Two nights ago Sam found a growth on Nora's chest. Being a Vet-wanna-be, I took at look at it. It looked like one of those don't-worry-about-it sort of growths, but since Nora's almost nine and she was overdue for a butt shave (more on that, later) AND Gracie was due to start her Allergy Vaccine therapy...what the heck. In for a dime, in for a dollar-let's go to the Vet AGAIN. It's only been FIVE days since I was last there.

First of all, Nora HATES being in the car. So for the entire drive there she meowed every second or so. Some of the meows sounded downright ANGRY. Then I heard the telltale warning sound-the sound of furious scratching of the newspapers that lined the bottom of her DOG-sized crate. Then, silence. You know what that means.

I waited a few seconds to begin breathing poop particles, but none came, at least none from Nora. For once she didn't crap in the carrier, but there was something not RIGHT with me. I was FARTING like a bubbling brook (or farting brook)!

"What the HECK did I eat last night?" I said to Sam, as he wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"Musta been the garlic in the spaghetti sauce."

"Yeah, but YOU ate the SAME thing. Where are your farts?"

"I don't know. Maybe it's my pure heart and natural lifestyle?"

To which I replied by farting again.

What was deeply troubling (yeah right, it just made me giggle like a crazy person), was that the farting did not seem to be any closer to ending (pardon the pun). Once we reached Maple Ridge and said hello to Amber, we were left to our own devices while Dr. Larry and gang were in the back helping someone else.

I figured it was as good a time as any to sneak out a few more farts. What the HELL was the matter with me? My body was rotting from the inside out, not to mention, though I am mentioning that there was NO WAY TO SNEAK these farts out. They were LOUD and they were PROUD!

Then I started to realize that if I could hear everyone talking in the back, they could HEAR what I was doing out of MY BACK END. Oh man. I thought maybe I was done. Amber, one of the super-techs, came to tell us we could enter the exam room. When I stood up, another fart loaded into the chamber. I was doomed. I was going to rip a big one in front of a virtual stranger. I managed to hold it until Amber left the room, but no sooner than the door had shut, I lost another "round" right at Sam.

Then I started to laugh.

Then the farts would keep squeaking out with every laugh-like a farting machine gun.

The room we were in had a sweet ECHO. While Sam was trying to sit quietly and roll his eyes from the noxious gas, I kept on giggling. Every so often someone would come into the exam room to do something to one of the cats and every time they left, sure enough-bllllllaaaaaaaaap!!!

I find it very unlikely that no one knew what was going on. I'm sure they were being polite or just laughing their asses off in the other room. After we were done at the Vet's, it seemed my putrid chamber was finally empty. Good thing, too, I'm tired of writing and I just realized I didn't even get to the part about Nora's giant Anal Gland!!!

Oh well! Next time!

Why does it cost $28 to have my cat's anal glands "expressed?" I mean, really, how do you quantify the cost for having to stick your finger into a cats rectum and squeeze the smelly goo out of their glands? Do you add a few dollars to the fee based on quantity "expressed" or twitchiness of the patient? If the cat is tough to work with is it $32? What if the glands aren't that full? Maybe that should be $24?

Is the $28, really $14 per gland? Should this be a taxable service or illegal in some states?

And lastly, can get a coupon for a BOGO for next time?

P.S. This was NOT for Gracie. It was for Nora!
Two Vet visits in less than a week and TWO cats that
needed their Anal Glands "EXPRESSED" !!!!!

It's been a week since Gracie visited Dr. Rhodes. I began some of her treatment, while I wait for her Allergy Vaccine to arrive. She's locked in a room by herself. I hate doing this to her, but since she's so difficult to grab for that once-a-day pilling, I have to keep her where I can get my hands on her. She's in the room where I usually foster kittens. I realize that there will be no kittens here until Gracie's shots are down to once a week. It kills me. I miss the little ones so much, but I have to do what's best for Gracie now.

To keep Gracie from getting depressed, I've been inviting her daughter, Petunia to stay with her for, at least a few hours a day. If not Petunia, then Spencer seems to enjoy hanging out with her, as well. I fear that Gracie being away from the clutter, will make it difficult for her to return. I want the others to know she's around, so I do as much as I can to let them all know that Gracie has not left us.

(Petunia frets about her Mom, Gracie)

Yesterday, I noticed Gracie straining over her litter pan. She had the runs and she was crying, in obvious pain. Her rear end looked odd-inflammed and red. Even Petunia noticed something was going on.

(something doesn't smell quite right)

Since I'd gotten the call from Super-Deb that the meds were in for Gracie, I figured I'd have her take a look to make sure there wasn't something else going on. When we got to the office Deb went over the instructions for giving the shots. Talk about PAIN IN THE ASS!

Starting at intervals of every 4 days, Gracie needs to have a shot. She MUST be supervised at the Vet's office during these shots because she can have an allergic reaction that could be fatal. For the first ELEVEN shots, she'll be at the Vet for an hour. Oh yeah, this is going to kill any hope I have of having a few days out of town for months. I have no idea how I'm going to get this scheduled.

After the first ELEVEN shots, I'm on my own.

Once we finish talking about shots, I ask Super-Deb to look at Gracie's behind. Deb agreed it was something that "Maybe Larry should take a look at this?" (translation: I'm not gonna check out your cat's butt hole).

(Gracie waits for Super-Deb to start probing)

It's times like these when you know you're loved. While I didn't photograph the moment, it was the end of the day, last appointment. Everyone was tired and Dr. Larry just didn't want to probe Gracie's butt, so he made Sup-Deb do it since her fingers were smaller (yeah, right, good excuse). Deb slipped on a rubber glove with lube on it and went to work. Sure enough Gracie's anal glands were loaded and need to be "expressed." This was a first for me. I thought only dogs needed that treatment?

Gracie wriggled around while Deb poked and squeezed. She gave Gracie a nice wipe with a gauze pad, which revealed, hey, I'm not sayin'---you can imagine. Then she wisely suggested that Dr. Larry double check (so as to not allow Dr. Larry off the hook). With a sigh and a lubbed, gloved, finger, Dr. Larry did what he needed to do, then said; "You know, I really love doing an anal exam at the end of a long day. Really caps things off nicely."

Then I added how I'd love to learn how to do that, too (JOKE!), to which Dr Larry replied: "Any time you want to learn about Anal Sacks, we'll get a bottle of Scotch and I'll show you everything you want to know.

To which I replied. "Dr. Larry, it's Exit Only with me, sorry."

...as he sees Bob and Spencer reluctantly sharing the same cat bed. This is a first. Normally, both boys are too proud to share. Back to back, I can see it's not a friendly pairing, but more due to being stubborn alpha cats.

(Nicky: top, Spencer: Middle and Bob: bottom of photo)

FYI-there are about 18 other cat beds within a few feet of where this photo was taken.

Cats. Go figure.

...to find out. You did EVERYTHING you could to diagnose you're poor cat's allergy problem and the diagnosis remains the same: Milliary Dermatitis (rash of unknown origin).

Sure, there's more. I found out that Gracie had a sad convergence of events that basically blew out her immune system, leaving her open to a massive allergic reaction. Last November, she had a Dental Procedure, a tooth extraction, was treated for Bartonella, an ear infection, got an Upper Respiratory Infection and had to be treated for that, too. She had begun having the allergic reaction during this time. It may have started from the rugs I brought into the house a few weeks earlier or it may have had nothing to do with it. The ear infection had possibly been the harbinger of her problems to come. We'll never really know for sure.

Bottom line-Gracie is going to be put on Cyclosporin for a month. It's the same drug used to keep transplanted organs from being rejected. Why use this drug? Because it may keep Gracie from reacting to the allergens in her environment AND we will NOT BE USING ANY MORE STEROIDS. This is KEY to treating Gracie without risking the harm of steroid use. Gracie also received an injection of Convenia, a new antibiotic that lasts about a week, just one dose. My Vet hasn't used this before and has wanted a reason to try it, so he has his reason. Lastly, what I dreaded, Gracie will begin a series of Allergy "Vaccine" shots. It will take between six months and a year before we'll know if she's on the road to recovery.

I'm very glad we saw Dr. Rhodes. She really had her finger on the latest treatments and I felt, that although her diagnosis was barely different than my own Vets, it was good to have a more focused treatment option. Dr. Larry was spot on, but his approach was slightly different. Would it end with the same results? Perhaps. I think, though, that this possibility of using the Cyclosporin may be the one factor that will really help and that was Dr. Rhodes determination. That said-there are MANDATORY blood tests to be performed on Gracie in six months. Why? Because this drug may cause liver damage-moreso in dogs than cats, but this is still a new use for the drug. My heart sinks to consider that with all this effort, her treatment could do her more harm, than good.

I packed Gracie up and forked over my Am Ex, which whined when Meeehhhhagaann swiped it through the card reader. I loaded Gracie back into the car while the cold rain revived me. My tummy rumbled again, but now I was officially too broke to eat. I turned on the GPS and pressed the "HOME" button. We drove the crowded highway in relative silence, other than when Betty, my GPS's voice, interrupted with directions. Gracie was quiet, and I was simply resigned-to get us home soon and to get Gracie healthy again.