Images on this website have been digitally watermarked with ownership and usage information. Digimarc and the Digimarc logo are registered trademarks of Digimarc Corporation. The "Digimarc-Enabled" Web Button is a trademark of Digimarc Corporation, used with permission.
Contact the Author
Comments? Questions? Fan Mail? Having Trouble Registering for a Free Account or Posting? Contact Robin Here
WARNING: THERE ARE GRAPHIC PHOTOS OF BOBETTE'S SURGERY IN PART TWO OF THIS POST. WHILE THEY ARE NOT CLOSE UP OR VERY GORY, PLEASE VIEW WITH DISCRETION. THIS IS PART TWO-YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
The monitor attached to Bobette continued to beep in a steady rhythm as Dr. Mixon prepared to make the first incision into her left rear leg. I held my breath as he pressed the scalpel blade into her flesh. For some reason I expected a lot of blood to shoot out all over the room. I guess I've watched one too many horror movies.
The skin gave way, with little blood escaping from the opening. Right away I felt sick to my stomach. It was partly due to having only had some apple juice for breakfast; I first thought, but as the Dr. kept working the blade, it dawned on me that this thing he was cutting into looked a lot like a raw chicken leg. It was deeply disturbing to me to be hit with the mixed emotions of my brain recognizing “food” versus my conscious mind being completely DISGUSTED with myself for even thinking that. I wanted to throw up. It was clear to me why Dr. Mixon is a vegan. I started to seriously think about giving up meat, myself, but never thought I had the fortitude to stick with it. Maybe now I did.
Dr. Mixon was very focused on what he was doing. I focused on staying out of the way. The Tech was at attention, ready to hand him something or adjust the lamps. I learned that once the patient was draped, the area that was blue was NOT to be TOUCHED or even LEANED over. Being a chubby monkey, who is far from a limber ballerina, I was even more worried that any second now I'd crash into something and take the contents of a shelf down with me. The room just had enough space for all of us and the equipment. I also didn't want to distract Dr. Mixon so I just stood still and tried not to want to sit down. We'd already been on our feet for a few hours and had a long while yet to go, but my back complained. The Tech stretched her legs and arms. I guess I wasn't the only one who was already getting tired.
An alarm sounded on the monitor. Bobette's blood pressure was too low. This is the part in the TV show when someone yells; “Code Blue! Get the paddles!”
I asked what was going on. If Bobette was OK. Dr. Mixon looked at the monitor and said casually; “the monitor isn't always accurate…maybe Bobette's lines are kinked.”
Or maybe Bobette was going to DIE ANY SECOND! OHMYGOD!!!! I wanted to jump out of my skin while the Tech peeked under the layers of blue fabric to check on Bobette. She acknowledged that things looked all right, but Dr. Mixon quickly had her adjust the settings on the amount of fluid that was going into her IV as the monitor alarm kept going off. I bit my tongue, but I wanted to yell; “DO SOMETHING YOU'RE GOING TO LOSE HER!”
But again, this was not new to them as it was to me. Bobette's pressure went up very slightly. Dr. Mixon told me not to worry, but I worried anyway. Bobette wasn't his cat. (Of course this is where I start wondering what the heck I'm doing in an operating room in the first place.)
Eventually her pressure went up to with an acceptable range. I thought about how fragile Bobette was at this moment. The twist of a dial, a kink in a tiny plastic line into her front leg, could mean her death. Thinking about this put me on edge even more.
As Dr. Mixon teased some of the muscle out of the way, looking for Bobette's kneecap, he made some familiar sounds. I was transported back in time to my childhood, when my dad was trying to fix the faucet. I was to hold the tools and hand them to him when he asked. He must have realized he forgot a part or encountered something he didn't expect because he unleashed a torrent of profanity. While Dr. Mixon is far more reserved, I could tell from his sighs and grunts that he was having difficulty. As he worked, he began to describe what he saw.
Bobette was in far worse shape than we anticipated. Her patella, may never have been in place or was not in place for very long. There was no groove in the joint for her kneecap to float into. He had to use a small saw to shape a space for the kneecap to go. He also said her leg had twisted outward as she grew, so the muscles that wrapped around the leg were very out of place. Ideally, what should happen is her femur should be cut through and turned into the correct position-this was NOT something we could do in a few hours time and with only one tech. I imagined the recovery time from doing that would be very difficult, as well.
What he could do was after creating the groove for the kneecap, he would re-work how the muscles attached, pinning them down in places with nylon sutures, which would never dissolve and would permanently keep the muscles from popping back out and into their old position.
He used a chisel, then some sort of uber-nail clippers to trim away some bone. Each sound made me shiver. To me it looked like he was just carving up her leg and I couldn't imagine that what he was doing would help her at all. How would she ever walk on that leg after what he did? I also thought about Bobette. She was going to be in immense pain when she woke up. He kept teasing the muscles to release them in some areas. I didn't look too closely and just tried to take photos to get my mind off what he was doing.
It was nearly 2pm and we had started around 10:30am. Dr. Mixon had to pick his son up from school to take him to the Doctor. I offered to go get him, but of course, I can't due to security issues. Dr. Mixon said (thank goodness) that he did not want to rush the surgery so I left the operating room and got his phone. He had the Tech dial a number and put the phone on “speaker.” I guess he called his ex-wife who was not too happy to hear from him. I felt really guilty, but I also didn't want him to rush. He had done as much as he could, but needed time to suture Bobette's leg. As with everything else, it took a lot longer than I expected it would, but Dr. Mixon was very careful about making sure everything was done properly.
The monitor kept on beeping. I glanced over and saw that all Bobette's vitals were within safe limits. As Dr. Mixon finished suturing he swore. The kneecap had already moved out of place. He was able to get it back by pushing it in place, which he hadn't been able to do before the surgery. I asked him what her prognosis was and he wasn't very optimistic.
He thought it was likely her patella would pop back out. Perhaps it would not pop out too far and would pop back into place; he wasn't sure. I asked if she was going to lose her leg-soemthing I had feared all along. He said yes, probably, but not right now. My heart sank. After all this work to have it fail before she even got off the operating table was very disappointing. That said, we really had to wait and see.
The biggest hurdle now was to keep Bobette from bending her leg-at any cost. Bend the leg and the surgery was going to fail. She had to keep that leg straight for a week, at least.
But first things first-Bobette had to wake up from surgery. She'd been out for hours. We were all really tired from being on our feet for so long. Dr. Mixon left us to clean up the room. The Tech did most of the cleaning and I stayed with Bobette. We had to furiously rub her to get her to wake up after all the life support was removed. She was left her intubated until she swallowed for the first time. I don't know why that is, but I do know it took a long time for her to be ready for the tube to come out. I worried she wasn't going to wake up.
Once she was awake, she was very crabby and started moaning. It was difficult and frightening to hold her down. She started to thrash violently in her cage and I called out for help. I was so worried she would break her leg she was writhing around so hard. We wrapped her in a towel like a kitty-burrito. She quieted down, but moaned a great deal more earnestly. I held her paw and told her it was going to be all right. I could only imagine how terrible she had to be feeling at that moment. I wondered if it was all in vain. I prayed it would work out in time.
We gave Bobette another pain killer and she quieted down. The Tech said it was okay for me to go home-which I did gladly.
I got home around 4pm and finally had something to eat. As I started to unwind, my eyelids grew heavy. I dragged myself upstairs, took off some of my clothes and fell, exhausted into bed. I slept until 7pm-the beep…beep…beep of the monitor still ringing in my ears.
…up next…part three, Bobette's Post Op Life…stay tuned…
WARNING: THERE ARE GRAPHIC PHOTOS OF BOBETTE'S SURGERY IN PART TWO OF THIS POST. WHILE THEY ARE NOT CLOSE UP OR VERY GORY, PLEASE VIEW WITH DISCRETION.
THIS IS PART ONE SO YOU'RE SAFE.
It's rather ironic that there's so much going on in my life to write about, yet I don't have time to write any of it down. Meanwhile the days slip by and the details become a bit fuzzy around the edges.
Last week marked the first time I'd ever witnessed anything more than a spay surgery. It was time for Bobette to have surgery to (hopefully) correct her luxated patella. The poor girl couldn't walk without limping. Her kneecap was so far out of place it was a wonder she could run or jump at all. She mostly used her other legs for jumping and if she got really inspired to go after a toy, her back end would slip out from under her when she ran. Clearly, she needed help, but there was no guarantee she would ever walk normally again. Getting a kneecap back in place is one thing, but to get it to STAY in place is another.
There was much to do to prep for Bobette's life after surgery. Dr. Mixon, her Vet, wanted her to have cage rest for three weeks, so I got out my biggest dog crate and set it up, not realizing I was making a big mistake. I'd never had a cat with an invasive surgery on a limb to recover from-of course I'd cared for Bob after 1/2 of his liver was removed just a year ago, but all I had to do for him was make sure he was eating and staying quiet on his heated bed. With Bobette, I'd have to keep her from moving at all costs. I hated to lock her up in a cage, and force her to wear the “cone of shame,” but she had to rest.
In the first week, should Bobette be able to bend her leg at all, she would ruin the surgery and her kneecap would pop back out. We had to give it time to set in it's new position and that meant a lot of sitting around. For a year old cat, who wants to play, that was a lot to ask for.
The morning of the surgery I was feeling hopeful, but scared. I thought I'd be sitting in the waiting room until they finished up, but Dr. Mixon came out and asked me, or was it told me?, I should come back and see the surgery. My heart dropped into my pants. ME? Watch? Even though I watch all those ER “reality” shows on TV, I ALWAYS look away when they get into the gory surgery scenes. There was no looking away from this, but could I handle it without throwing up or fainting?
I didn't realize I'd have to help out, which is not a problem at all, especially considering Dr. Mixon was doing the surgery for about $2000.00 less than an Orthopedic surgeon would have charged. Dr. Mixon is a General Practitioner, not a specialist, but he admittedly enjoys doing orthopedic procedures and another friend said her dog did well after Dr. M. did a similar surgery on him.
Bobette was sitting in her cat carrier, her pupils dilated. She hadn't had breakfast-of course-because anesthesia can cause the cat to vomit and you don't want her to aspirate anything into her lungs and get pneumonia. It's better not to have a full tummy (but you tell that to the cat!). Two days before we'd been in this same waiting room together, but only to get Bobette's pre-operative blood work done so we could make sure she'd be healthy enough for surgery. With three people holding her down, there was no way to get her blood, so we had to hope that being so young she'd be fine under anesthesia-this is not something I'm happy to report. I'm sure as we sat together, Bobette was getting very tense, probably reliving what happened those few days prior and I wondered if she'd become so fractious that we'd be able to do the surgery at all.
I brought her into the back of the Practice and sat her on an exam table. The Vet tech was getting supplies ready and I asked her to walk me through what was going to happen next and what she'd want me to do. Mostly I had to just hold Bobette down and not lose any fingers in the process but I kept thinking' “I'm a Graphic Designer! I'm a Graphic Designer. I'm NOT A VET TECH! WHAT AM I DOING HERE?!”.
I took the lead and spoke very calmly to Bobette. I didn't restrain her very tightly. We were very quiet as we worked on her. It wasn't difficult at all to give Bobette a few shots. One was to relax her so we could insert the IV, which would be in place during surgery and provide her with fluids. The other was the dreaded Metacam, which I challenged Dr. M. on giving her because it's known to cause renal failure. He quickly pushed back and said it was safe if she was kept hydrated. I was really tweaked that he gave it to her after all I'd heard about it killing cats more than helping them, but what could I do? Now I'm thinking we'll have to do a post op-blood test to see if she's ok.
I held Bobette down so the Tech could insert an IV into her leg. I was really feeling like a traitor. Here is this sweet cat. I don't know her very well, but I still care about her. She's scared, drugged up and only at the beginning of what is going to be a very awful day. I couldn't blame Bobette as she pitched a fit and shrieked as the Tech tried to shave her front leg. Try as we might, we couldn't get her to settle down so it was decided she needed to be gassed so she would just konk out.
The Tech grabbed a plastic storage tub with holes cut into either end. One end was taped up and the other was open. She attached a hose to the open end, then had me place Bobette inside the bin. She barely fit. I started to realize maybe this is what they do to kill cats at shelters? I wanted to grab the box, get Bobette out and RUN for it. This just seemed inhumane, but what do I know about this---nothing other than it really bothered me to see this happening.
The Tech snapped down the lid and turned a dial allowing the gas to enter the box. Bobette didn't fuss at all and in a few minutes was slumped down, oblivious to the world around her. It's VERY UNNERVING to see an unconscious cat. They might as well be dead, because it's not much different. I kept wondering how anyone could do this to animals every day and not have nightmares each night.The Tech told me she was going to remove the lid FAST. I had to get Bobette out of the box, then run with the box into a back room and NOT BREATHE ANYTHING IN OR I WOULD PASS OUT, TOO.
YIKES!
I told her to do a countdown and on…“1” we jumped into action. I couldn't be distracted by Bobette being so limp. I put her down, grabbed the box and ran off, making sure the lid didn't come back off. I was weirdly tempted to open the lid and take a big sniff so I had a reason not to see the surgery, but I figured I would hit my head when I passed out, too. Probably not the best idea.
Then began a very long process of preparing Bobette's leg for surgery. I kept wondering how long she could be unconscious without it doing her harm. The Tech asked me to adjust a light or hold something or get this or that. She began to shave Bobette and we discovered she has very odd fur. It grows in different directions and was difficult to trim down close to her skin. I noticed that Bobette has a tuft of fur on her neck that reminds me of Alfalfa from the Our Gang show (It's probably before your time, so here's a link )
Poor Bobette. I just wanted to take her home, but the surgery hadn't even begun. She looked so helpless laying on the table. I whispered to her that it was going to be okay. I hoped it wasn't a lie. A monitor nearby beeped every time her heart beat. As long as we heard the beep, she was okay.
Bobette's leg was wiped down a few times. Dr. Mixon saw what the Tech was doing and stopped her. She missed a spot on Bobett's leg right under the tape that held her leg in place. She had to shave it down and re-do all the antiseptic wipes, which again, Dr. Mixon corrected, making certain that the area where the sugary was being done was NOT getting wiped over twice. Even though it took a lot of time, I was glad he was a stickler for keeping things clean.
Bobette was fine so far. I was fine, too, but was glad I wasn't attached to a heart monitor because everyone would know just how scared I was. Bobette's monitor kept beeping along…beep…beep…beep.
Then Dr. Mixon began draping Bobette with layers of cloth that would allow him to focus only on her leg and also to keep the surgical area cleaner. I kept thinking that surely he was done, but he'd add another layer. Then he slipped a small sock over Bobette's leg and cut a hole into it which was over the area where he'd be making the incision. After he created the opening, he quickly sutured around the edges of the opening so the fabric would stay in place. This was the final task he had before he could get started.
He was very focused and there was little talking. The only sound was the beeping of the monitor. Dr. Mixon looked up for a moment and said; “Now you know why these surgeries cost so much money.” And even before he made one cut, I understood. The prep work took at least an hour if not more. When he was done, Bobette the cat was gone and in her place was an alien leg sprouting from a field of pale green sterile sheets.
Last night foster mama-Maria, called me, worried about Jackson Galaxy, the cat we rescued last week who was named after the uber-cat-listener-of the same name. We'd already discussed that Jackson has been aggressive, biting Maria's hands and clawing her legs. Because he was just neutered a week ago, we thought we'd give it time and Maria was going to adjust how she approached him. Jackson had almost 2 years of being an intact male and probably had plenty of hormones still working through his body. We needed to give him time to adjust and get rid of all that testosterone.
Because Jackson's in a small bathroom I also asked Maria to be observant about where she is in relationship to the cat. Did he feel cornered? Was he attacking out of fear?
Very slowly Maria saw some improvements. Jackson could be petted and he did purr, but last night something was not right with Jackson-not right at all. Jackson was lying in the bathtub, pale smears of pink-BLOOD-were on the porcelain. Jackson was licking at his scrotum and when she looked at it, it was red, slightly inflamed and she saw some blood. She called “Doc” Thomas, who runs the Spay/Neuter clinic at Noah's Ark and asked her what to do. Doc said to bring him in in the morning.
Jackson wouldn't eat. Maria had to force feed him after trying many different tempting options. I asked if she could take his temp, but she said he didn't feel hot. She tested his blood sugar and it was normal. I thought he was getting an infection or brewing the dread shelter-virus, but his eyes were not watery, only his coat looked unkempt.
Maria took the day off so she could rush Jackson to Noah's Ark, where Jackson was neutered. Jackson's temp. had risen to 104.4°F-high normal is 101°F. Jackson's scrotum was enlarged-an obvious infection was brewing. In four years of doing neuters, Doc had only seen this happen ONE other time.
Jackson was sedated and Doc opened up his scrotum. She said it was good to see blood, that it meant the tissue was not dead. She could drain it, then give him a course of strong antibiotics and he should recover. I asked Maria if he'd have to wear “the cone of shame” (an Elizabethan collar), but she said no.
Jackson's waking up from the procedure as I write this. He's already gotten antibiotics. Hopefully this was just a bump in the road and from here out he'll not only be feeling better, but perhaps acting more calm with Maria, too. It's possible he's been in pain, first from the surgery and then from the infection—and what guy wouldn't lash out if his scrotum hurt?!
Another reminder to all of us that if your cat's behavior changes you should get him or her to the Vet, first. You never know what may be going on and it's important to rule out illness when you discover a behavioral problem.
As for Jackson, I see a lot of treats in his future!
Tomorrow is Bobette's orthopedic surgery. I'm thinking the theme for this weeks' blog may be "graphic photo warning-week." I hope it will also be, “cats who were feeling lousy but are on the road to recovery week”, too.
I've been getting to know Bobette since she and her boys arrived last month. Right off the bat, I noticed Bobette angrily going after her kittens and I asked my Vet about it. He suggested it was due to her being spayed and the boys being big enough to leave and that in the wild, they would have been cast off to prevent them from in-breeding with the colony. It made sense, but it troubled me to see her doing that. The boys were not being injured, just scared off.
But what I've come to understand is that Bobette is in pain and I believe that's what makes her lash out. She can be a warm and affectionate Mother. Her boys often come over to her and rub up against her, but if they try to play or get too close to her leg, she growls and swats at them.
Bobette's limp, which used to be almost unnoticeable, is now pronounced. She wants to chase after toys, along with her boys and some times she does, but her back legs go out on her and then her limp gets even worse. She doesn't jump much these days and she sits awkwardly on the bed. At times she extends her leg, stretching it out, trying to pop her sublimated kneecap back into position, but it won't go.
Her injury is rated a 4 out of 4-the worst it can be. Although the Vets in Georgia told us she didn't need surgery, our Vet, Dr. J. Chris Mixon, feels she would do very well and have a much more comfortable life with it. I asked if her kneecap would pop back out and he said no and that he often does this surgery on much smaller patients and those stay in place (those little pocket-pal dogs), so this should go fairly well.
After surgery Bobette will have to have THREE WEEKS of cage rest and THREE WEEKS of mild exercise. I will HATE crating her, but I know it's nothing compared to a lifetime of being able to run and jump like a normal cat. Bobette was either struck by a car or hurt by a human. However she got this way, I'm determined to help her be whole again.
The cost to repair Bobette's leg is not going to be $100.00 as I first reported. I don't know if I misunderstood or the other factors, like a pre-op blood test, weren't taken into account. Dr. Mixon, is still giving us a tremendous and very generous discount. Instead of paying $2500.00, he's only asking for $500.00. One of our friends already donated $100.00 to her surgery so we only need to raise a little bit more.
Bobette NEEDS this surgery or she will live in a lot of pain for the rest of her life.
If you can help, your donation is Tax Deductible as the funds go to my 501(c)3 Non-Profit Corporation, Kitten Associates. To donate, use the ChipIn widget, above or you can mail a check made out to "Kitten Associates" and mail it to:
Kitten Associates
P.O. Box 354
Newtown, CT 06470-0354
Every dollar counts and if you can't donate, then if you can share this info on FB or Twitter that would be just great! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR HELP!
And a BIG THANK YOU to Dr. J. Chris Mixon of the Newtown Veterinary Center on 98 South Main Street in Newtown, CT for donating his time and skills to help Bobette. We couldn't do this without you!
Last year Animal Planet aired a new show entitled: My Cat From Hell. Initially, I decided to avoid watching it, fearing cats would be shown in a harsh, unfair light as overly dramaticized miscreants to be shunned, unworthy of our compassion.
I decided to watch one episode, not having seen any previews. After the first segment was over, not only were all my fears cast aside, I sat there in awe, realizing that this show had the “legs” to do for cats what folks like Cesar Milan and Victoria Stilwell do for dogs. Cats finally had an advocate with a sound approach to training guardians to understand how their cats think—which will, in turn, save the lives of countless misunderstood cats.
Set your DVR's for this SATURDAY night at 8pm EST (USA) to catch the Premiere of SEASON TWO!
My Cat From Hell features Jackson Galaxy, a Rockabilly styled, Cat Daddy, who is covered with colorful inked portraits of some of his favorite felines. Galaxy must have been a cat in a past life for he has an understanding about their behavior that borders on uncanny.
We watch Jackson strolling casually down a suburban sidewalk with a guitar case in one hand. Is he going to play tunes to this episode's crazy cat? Heck no. Jackson's guitar is left behind. The case is filled with toys, treats and possibly some magic fairy dust; the tools he uses to work with cats that are misbehaving badly and whose owners are at the end of their rope trying to work it out on their own.
I recently spoke with Jackson about his passion for helping cats.
One of the most often asked about behavioral issues Jackson encounters is litterbox issues and aggression. About 90% of the consultations he does encompass these two big issues-and no surprise-as they are the most difficult to live with.
Jackson looks for patterns to emerge to help solve the problem. Often times the guardian lacks an understanding of cat behavior and can't spot the patterns that result in the behavior issue. Jackson helps them learn to spot the pattern and make the necessary adjustments.
The solution is not always so obvious. If he's dealing with a guardian who already has a good background understanding cat behavior and can't see the pattern, that's when Jackson's ears perk up. Jackson's been working with cats for over 16 years. When he gets a case that's challenging, those are his favorite ones to work on. It helps keep him grounded, reminding him that cats are individuals and one solution for one cat, may not work with another. It also helps him grow in his understanding of what makes cats tick. His humility about what he knows is clear. He's confident, but humble. He understands there's always more to learn and is a willing and open-minded student with a gentleness that is very endearing.
So He's Like Dr. House on that TV SHOW, House…but for Cats Instead of People?
Some people mistakenly refer to him as the “House” for cats-referring to the fictional character, Dr. Gregory House, on the Fox TV show, HOUSE. House is a genius who loves to solve the puzzle of what's ailing his patients. He's the last stop on the diagnosis train-next stop, death; if Dr. House can't save the day.
In some ways, Jackson IS like Dr. House, but he's NOT a fictional character. Jackson is brilliant when it comes to his understanding of cats (and probably many other things, too, but we mostly chatted about cats). Though Jackson does admittedly love the “puzzle” of solving a behavior issue, for him, the payoff is not proving how clever he is, the payoff is knowing he gave one cat a happy life and more importantly saved that cat's life.We all know too well what happens to cats who behave badly. Often times they're cast aside, let outdoors to fend for themselves or dumped at a shelter where they will surely be euthanized.
One by one, cat's guardians are left stunned by the quick improvement in their cat's behavior after they follow Jackson's orders. Cat haters are turned into proud kitty-parents. Though Jackson admits he's only on the cat's side, it's clear, the humans benefit just as much.
Bizarre Behavior or a Cat Who Deserves a Medal?
I asked Jackson about weird behavior issues he's encountered, thinking I had him beat on that one. Again, I was wrong. While it won't be aired, Jackson did a consult about a cat who urinated in his guardian's MOUTH while the guy was ASLEEP! Jackson was able to tease out the issues of what was going on because of his own life experience. Jackson had suffered from sleep apnea and knew the resulting snoring could possibly be terrifying the cat. He asked the guardian to do a sleep study at the local hospital and sure enough, the gentleman's doctor told him he needed to be treated for sleep apnea. His cat was waking him up because the cat was afraid something was WRONG and wanted to make sure he was okay. Perhaps the cat witnessed the guardian stop breathing as sleep apnea patient's often do? Once the sleep apnea was treated, the cat stopped peeing on his dad. This cat should never have been scolded, but given an award!
What Role Would You Say that Nutrition Plays in Cat's Behavior Issues?
Anyone who reads this Blog knows I'm a die-hard advocate for species appropriate nutrition for cats and I was very glad to know that Jackson underscored that nutrition plays a BIG ROLE IN EVERY CONSULT he does. “Free feeding is the devil.” That structuring feeding time can stop your cat from howling, yowling and pacing around your home. That instead of thinking their food just is there all the time from no known source and there's no relationship to you, now your cat sees YOU as the provider of good things. This helps form an important bond. A simple thing like keeping to a timetable of feeding can make big changes in your cat's life-and overall health.
Jackson's passion about proper nutrition came around the same time mine did. We both learned about nutrition after losing cats to diabetes. It just didn't make sense that our cats should die so young. Jackson lost his seven year old cat to insulin resistant diabetes. Something didn't add up about how his cat got sick in the first place and Jackson realized it was up to him to find out what to feed his cats when the advice he got from his Vet just didn't make sense.
What Jackson loves about the internet is the plethora of information out there on what to feed your cat, so now it's a lot easier to find out what to do. One thing is clear and just common sense…as Jackson said: “There's no excuse not to feed a great diet…it's so easy to feed the right food…meat, meat, meat!”
Is There Such a Thing as Too Many Cats?
“Tacit approval to limits is absurd.” That said, of course there are limits, but they're different for every person, size of their living space and personality and number of cats. Galaxy spoke about the “tipping point” which can come at any time depending on how many cats you have and their unique personality. You can have three cats doing just fine together, then you add a fourth. The fourth cat is fine with his new friends, but one of the others declares war and a storm of vengeful bladders begins to destroy the home.
Of Country Lanes & Super Highways
Jackson had been to a home where there was no furniture at all and only an air mattress for a bed. The owner was so passionate about her cats she would not give them up, but she had no real home left after they had urinated and destroyed just about everything she had. With thirteen cats, you might expect plenty of problems or that she was clearly nuts, but, as Jackson said if you set your home up to be Mabyberry, (for you young folks, that's a reference to the 1960's TV program, The Andy Griffith Show) a one lane town with a dirt road, you're going to have problems. If you have one cat traveling in one direction and another cat headed towards him, there's no way to get out of each other's way. One of those cats will be like a car on that small dirt road-it will have to go into the ditch, which means fights, peeing and unhappy guardians.
What you want to do is create a “super highway” in your home with plenty of “off ramps and on ramps.” Lots of vertical places for the “tree dwellers” (cats who feel safe up high) as Jackson refers to them and plenty of place for the “bush dwellers,” too. If you do it right, you could have no limits to how many cats you have and we all know what happens if you do it wrong.
If Things Don't Work Out, is Re-Homing a Cat Okay?
I admit I asked this question for myself. I've long grappled with the thought that one of my cats would be a lot happier in a new home. I realize it was the easy answer and I've always felt guilty thinking about it, since I don't feel I've exhausted every option to help her be happy here.
Jackson didn't hesitate to answer that all he cares about is cats being happy.
If that means that after observing the situation, there are times when there are no changes that could be made to help that cat be happy in their home. He NEVER would suggest simply giving the cat to a shelter since that's one of the WORST thing you could do. He feels with respect and careful consideration a great home can be found.
Speaking of Shelters…
Jackson is also passionate about helping shelters. He sees so much burnout of the staff, who care for many animals and who put a lot of effort into getting them adopted, only to see more animals coming in the door who need the same love and care. The “conveyor belt” never stops moving and these folks need help. Jackson would love to see a national foster home program, where instead of there being overflowing shelters, people just take foster animals into their homes until a new home can be found. If millions of people took ONE cat or ONE dog, think of how empty we could make those shelters! (and this is of course, taking into account that everyone is also spaying and neutering their pets)
Will Success Spoil Jackson Galaxy?
I channeled my inner Barbra Walters and asked Jackson how he felt about the reports I read about woman wanting him for more than just his cat-savvy mind? As soon as I asked, I could feel my face turning red, then heat up. I was completely embarrassed that I even asked him that question and I could tell from his bright laugh, that I caught him off guard.
Jackson said the attention was completely unexpected, but given that 95% of his clients are WOMEN, it didn't surprise me at all. We all know the perfect guy loves cats, but when he understands them the way Jackson does, it makes him quite the eligible bachelor.
Jackson's goal, at age 12, was to be a rock star. All he knows is performing on stage. It's ironic he finds his fame (until his CD comes out) through his understanding of cats. Plus, it's not about being a celebrity. Galaxy may have an outer space name, but his feet are firmly planted on the ground.
He admits he's NEVER asked a girl out on a date, ever. He's quite shy and really, who wants to risk being turned down? (not that he would be). Even without asking anyone out, he's found love before, but what about now?
As we spoke, I held my breath, wondering if he was going to answer the question about if he was unattached or not because I know many of you want to know. I got my answer, but was asked to keep it “off the record” for now. Since I'm going to be begging Jackson to help me with my cat issues, I better keep my mouth shut.
Perhaps there's a woman who's a man-whisperer out there who can get to the bottom of this?
Need Help with Your Cats?
Though Jackson is busy with his show just about to air and a new book and possible book tour in May (Cat Daddy: My Life with the Original Cat from Hell), he still does consultations as time allows. If you'd like to book his services (for cat behavior problems!), please email him at: info@jacksongalaxy.com
---------------------------------
MY CAT FROM HELL – New Episodes Beginning Saturday, January 7 at 8 PM ET/PT.
Cat behaviorist Jackson Galaxy tackles the most catastrophic cat cases he’s ever encountered in six all-new, one-hour episodes of MY CAT FROM HELL. Armed with 15 years of experience, a proven training program and his signature guitar case filled with cat toys, Galaxy is on a mission to help cat owners find the source of conflict with their furry friends. In this season, Jackson swoops into solve a gamut of feline-related issues and repair the relationships they’re ruining, including the hair-raising case of a cat terrorizing its owner’s Pilates business by attacking her clients. Whether it’s the cat or the owners behaving badly, leave it to Galaxy to save the day!
Update: The kitty I rescued yesterday from a kill shelter in the south, who was named in honor of Jackson, is doing well in his foster home. He was neutered and vetted and will be coming to CT to my rescue group Kitten Associates, then on to our sister, no-kill shelter, Animals in Distress. If you're interested in adopting Jackson (the CAT), please contact me directly: info@kittenassociates.org
There's nothing better than to start the New Year off with a few cute photos of our sweet foster kitties; “Bob's Pumpkin Patch.” As you may know, one of our babies, little Teddy, was adopted just two days ago. These are the last photos of him before he went to his new home.
Instead of a long blog post, I hope you'll enjoy this photographic peek into my life with foster kitties.
I started to write a “Year in Review,” thinking I could get through it with some effort. A lot of things happened in 2011, but many of them were just too heartbreaking to look back upon in much detail. Today I write as a brokenhearted, tired rescuer with a very bleak outlook for 2012. I've decided that too many years have passed where I've been near broke and exhausted. 2012 is going to be better, damn it! I'm overdue for a wonderful year and for things to finally get better on the economic front.
It wasn't all bad news, like any year, there were some highlights. I'm very glad to say, that even though I had some very long term fosters here, which cut back my ability to take in more rescues, my group, Kitten Associates (KA) adopted out quite a few kitties and by the power of the inter-web-net and this little blog, in total we helped save the lives of over 70 cats!
That's not too shabby considering we did the hands-on rescues basically with just a small group of people, placed the cats by teaming up with our “sister” shelter Animals in Distress or via KA and we got the word out about many other cats in need by depending on THOUSANDS of folks who read this blog and who jumped in to help spread the word. It made a difference and it WORKED. We did some AMAZING things!
There was our “cow mama” from Henry County Care & Control who no one would rescue regardless of our pleas for help. While other mamas and their babies got out, she did not. I didn't have many resources, but at the last minute, in the middle of the night, I got a name of someone named Jennifer H. at Humane Society if Forsyth County in Cumming, GA. We worked out the logistics and the next morning, at the very last second before the family was to be put down, they were busted out. Today they are all doing well and have been adopted into loving homes.
We went to bat for two giant kitties who were dumped off at my Vet's office. Within a few days, they were adopted by someone who had two big kitties just like the two who were dumped. Her cats had passed away and the day she got the call about them was the anniversary of one of the cat's passing away. She knew it was kismet and they were adopted.
Another mama had a kitten with a club foot who could barely walk. We loved this family so much we figured waving money around would help get them a rescue. Though it wasn't the sole reason for their rescue (they ARE an adorable family!), we raised $500.00 IN ONE DAY to cover the costs to remove the misshapen leg. This family was placed with a no-kill shelter and some were adopted into good homes, but sadly Prince William needs MORE SURGERY to correct his other damaged leg. If you can help this little guy out, please consider making a donation to his ongoing care! You can read about him and donate HERE. This poor guy has been in foster care for most of this YEAR! Let's get him the help he needs.
We got the word out on a number of families in crisis. Every single one was rescued by a no-kill shelter or rescue group. We are so grateful that by helping get the word out, the rescues who do have the facility and resources to help, find out about these families and jump in to do their part. Our hat is off to these groups.
Who can forget, Bella & Barney, the toilet flushing cat! It was through our massive push to get the word out on these cats that King Street Cats heard about their plight and offered to take them in just 48 hours after the story broke. I've never had a story shared and re-tweeted so many times. This proves that through a simple click of a mouse, we can help save lives. These cats were facing being given up to a kill-shelter and now they are safe and sound waiting for their forever home.
I loved the story about Buddy and his journey as an FIV+ stray into the home of our good friends, Warren & Terri royal, who rescued him and found him safe haven with a no-kill shelter. Buddy found his forever home, along with another FIV+ kitty. They are best friends.
Basil & Nigel, just two big lugs, looking' for love. Their bellies were scalded by urine from being confined in a cage for who knows how long. They both tipped the scales at well over 25 pounds. Being somewhat timid on top of that, made their rescue a miracle in the making. Somehow I was able to get enough favors pulled and folks interested in their story to help make a dream come true. Basil and Nigel have slimmed down to just about 20 pounds each and are doing well in foster care. Basil is still very timid, but if he can overcome this his foster family indicated that they would like to adopt the boys one day soon.
Cheese. A great name for a sweet cat whose owner gave him up, thinking it was temporary, then realizing in a few months it had to be for good. She lost her home and job and couldn't take Cheese back. One of our friends, Amy Sikes, fostered Cheese until another one of our readers offered to adopt him. Cheese was transported from Virginia to New Hampshire where he lives with a few Papillons, who he finds annoying, but he's gracious about it as long as they stay out of his food bowl.
Muddles & Cuddles were rescued by our foster mom-Maria. She took them from a neighbor who wasn't particularly interested in SPAYING her cats or providing them with even basic care. It was a very tough choice for Maria to risk taking on adult cats when she has her own cats to care for, so we jumped in and helped her with them. They made their way to CT and to AID where they both found great homes.
Phil was five years old and a huge cat. It took all of FIVE days after he arrived in Connecticut to find him a GREAT forever home with a retired couple who has another cat named Tiger. Phil and Tiger quirky became best friends. His family is thrilled and so are we. Phil has a new name, they call him Big Poppy after a baseball player on the Red Sox.
Amberly and her family's rescue was a miracle. This amazing family had the most beautiful copper eyes I've ever seen. Each kitten was sweet and Amberly was a doll. She was a skinny wreck when she first arrived and a stunning beauty when she left for her forever home. Amberly's journey is like so many others, but the mark this family left on my heart will be there forever. Amberly and her five kittens are ALL in great homes together. Amberly went with her son, Jack. Periwinkle and BlueBelle, the prettiest kittens I've ever had went together and Truffles and Blaze found their home together, too. This was one wonderful family and Maria is amazing for doing what it took to find Amberly's kittens before it was too late. You can read more about them HERE.
Amelia and Noelle (a kitten injured when she was discovered under the hood of a car in 2010) came to CT and were placed in a great home, together thanks to our friends at AID!
The highlight of my year was winning the 2011 Dogtime Media Pettie Award for Best Cat Blog. I wish you could have seen my reaction when I won. I was dumbfounded-completely shocked and thrilled. Some times I think I sit here in my jammies and talk to myself, but apparently I was wrong about that (maybe somewhat wrong about that). If I haven't said it enough times, let me say it again-THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO VOTED FOR MY BLOG. It really means a lot to me to get some recognition for my efforts. I get so much love and concern from all of you already, this was an amazing bonus and I am deeply grateful for it.
Clare and Sally just had to be rescued! Look at those faces! I thought they were Siamese. Little did I know they were snowshoes-a breed I've never even heard of! I brought them north and AID had no problem finding them a great home-which only lasted a few days. The girls came back to the shelter and found an even BETTER home with a new family just as quickly. Their only failing-they let their child rename the cats. Meet Pillow and Rainbow!
We had real heartache this year, too. First, we lost our dearest boy, Bob Dole to lymphoma. His death was a long, slow process. He passed at home with both Sam and I petting him and talking to him to ease his journey. Through Bob's life I learned many things about good feline nutrition and learning to let go of being afraid of seeing Bob die and taking some joy that his passing was beautiful. I never wanted Bob to leave us and today I still miss him terribly. My heart is broken.
Not long after Bob died, I rescued an orange mama cat and her six kittens in his honor. Bobette was sick, but it wasn't right away that we understood what was going on. A week after the rescue, three of her six kittens died within hours of each other, before we could even give any of them a proper name. Maria named them Sammy, Rocky and Red. They were cremated. Their ashes are with Maria while I care for the remaining family.
Bobette's secret pain was that she was hit by a car or abused to the point of it moving her kneecap far out of position. On a scale of 1 to 4 she's a 4-meaning BAD. I see her limp and stretch out her leg to try to get the kneecap in place, but it won't go unless she has surgery. Thankfully, our generous Vet, Dr. Mixon, has offered to do the procedure for $100.00, instead of $2500.00!!!!
As we wait for Bobette's surgery date, one of her boys, little Teddy Boo, was adopted last night.
Another orange tabby had good news, too. Rocco, who I rescued in 2010, was returned. It just wasn't working out. Through the twists and turns of fate and timing, I ended up finding a wonderful home for Rocco, one I hope and believe will be his FOREVER home. Rocco spent his first Christmas with his new family, just a day after he was adopted.
I love black and white cats, but in 2011 it seemed to be the Year of the Orange kitty. MacGruber, who I rescued in 2010, found his forever home, along with Polly Picklepuss in 2011. They are doing GREAT with their family. Every update is happier than the last. Both cats love life and are happy in their home. I miss Macky-G very much. He was a marvelous kitty and best buddy to my cat, Blitzen.
Mazie, Polly, Cara & Chester-some of the sickest cats I've ever had. Cara was chronically ill to the point where I thought she would die. Mazie got an infection and soaring high temperature that almost took her life, too. For months and months I worried, ran to the Vet, gave them one prescription drug after another. They got better, they got worse, they were with me for almost a year. One by one they slowly got well enough to be adopted and one by one they left for their new homes.
We had a White Christmas this year after the arrival of four white kitties we nicknamed the Angel Babies. One of the four, Princess, was just adopted a week ago. She is doing fantastic and loves her two other kitty friends. She's even sleeping with them! We're still hoping her brothers find their homes soon. They are awesome, lovey-dovey cats and if you know what I mean when I say, they are like The Borg, you'll understand what kind of crazy cats they are…one mind…three bodies.
Hannah and Macy were rescued off the streets in Bridgeport, CT. Hannah was so tiny and sick we thought she would die. After being bottle-fed by one of our volunteers and a lot of love and care, both Hannah and Macy recovered. They were also the first kittens I observed being spayed!
To end the year on a high note, Hannah and Macy were adopted THIS MORNING!
And lastly there's the DOOD. This kitten came from Cheshire, CT. I thought he'd be a quick kitty to find a home for so I took him into my rescue group. the DOOD turned out to test POSITIVE for Feline Leukemia-which shocked me completely. I refused to accept the test result and two days later he tested NEGATIVE. Even with that, he HAD to be quarantined for TWO MONTHS to make certain he did not have the disease. Thankfully, DOOD's test was NEGATIVE and he was allowed to meet our other cats. He and Blitzen are buddies who love to wrestle and groom each other.
After all that time here, I'd been working with him, to calm down his aggression towards people. I found out his former owner's kid kicked him and chased him around the house. I was filled with rage when they admitted the truth. They asked how he was doing and I never replied. They don't deserve to know what happened to their cat. Thank goodness I got him or he would have been put down by now for being aggressive.
You can see he's a sweet cat (okay, some times) in this video featuring my nephew, Ryan. You can also see he went from a little kitten to an eight month old MONSTER, tipping the scaled (over) at THIRTEEN POUNDS!!!! He is going to be a HUGE CAT one day.
I'd hoped to announce that the DOOD was going to be living here with us, for good, but due to issues with our other cats, that may not be possible. We're going to give it a few more weeks and see how things shake out. I may have to just move away with the DOOD so we can stay together. Considering how my love life was this year, I may not be making much of a joke with that statement.
What about 2012?
• Bobette will get her surgery and hopefully she'll be walking normally by March.
• Somehow I will find a way to pay my bills.
• I'm going to re-design Covered in Cat Hair so it's easier to follow stories and stay in touch. Plus, this web site design is years old. Like anything else, it needs a facelift!
• I'm going to take a few days off. I don't know how. I don't know when, but I am in DIRE need of a holiday. I haven't had a trip away from home, other than for business for years. I think 2012 has to allow some healing time for me, just so I can stay strong and do more rescues.
• I may start rescuing from one of the most notorious and horrible kill shelters-the dreaded AC&C in New York City. Rescuing from here is not for the faint of heart, but they need all the help they can get.
• Take a deep breath and try to prepare for what we will soon find out about our cat, Nicky. Does he have lymphoma and are we on the start of another painful journey?
• And Bob. Well there's news about him, too. We've found a way for Bob to live on and I will be sharing that joyous news with you soon.
Mazie went to her new home on Christmas Eve. I tried to think of it as a gift to her, a forever home, one that she'd been waiting for for so very long. She'd been with me for fourteen months. The least I could do is send her off to the best home possible since she'd been waiting for so long. This was not an easy adoption on a number of levels. I struggle with my decision because it's difficult to have faith in how the future will play out, but hopefully some day I'll look back on this and be glad about the choices I made.
I have to consider the options. In all the time Mazie was here, she had only one other application from a 65 year old retiree. While I'm sure the home was fine, Mazie would have been the only cat in a quiet home. Somehow it seemed unfair that she would have such a solitary life. I always imagined Mazie playing with kids and having lots of fun. She has a lot of energy and would thrive in an active home. I held out, hoping that a family would come along one day.
I got an email a few weeks ago from a woman who said her daughters fell in love with Mazie. They realized that little kittens got homes easily and were very sad that Mazie was still waiting for hers to come along. They wanted her to come and live with them so they could give her lots of love and be their kitty. I got a lump in my throat when I read that. Maybe this was what I was waiting for?
The girls are 4 and 7. I usually don't adopt out to families if there are children under 5 in the home-especially if kittens are involved. Yes, there are always exceptions to this policy and I felt that since the girl was nearing the age of 5 in a few months, that I'd give them a chance. I would know if it was okay to move forward once I met them.
The woman was just divorced and had custody of the children only half time. This gave me some relief. Mazie would have alone time with the Mom and some peace and quiet. Perhaps it was the perfect blend?
The home itself was neat as a pin, a sweet three-bedroom cottage style house built in the early 1900's. I loved it. There was even a white picket fence wrapping the front yard. I saw the two girls as I walked down the path towards their front door. They were standing in the doorway, their faces pressed against the glass. Then they started bouncing up and down. I couldn't help but smile.
That was the last time I could hear anything for the next 30 minutes.
The woman came to the door and greeted me. She was very friendly, but seemed a bit stressed. The girls said a quick hello, then started fighting and screaming, tossing seat cushions at each other, then yelling some more at a pitch that was so high and so loud I thought my ear drums were going to split. Their mother was mortified. She said how the girls had been great all day, but now they, perhaps were overtired or hungry. Whatever the real reason was, the girls were just hyper. My ears started to ring and I think I heard every other word that was said. In a way it was funny, here was the mom telling the girls to be good angels and them ignoring her. For once it seemed it was easier to have young cats running around breaking things, than live with these two kids. There was no getting through to them-even threatening them that they could never meet Mazie if they didn't cut it out. The best they would do was stop for a few seconds, then think of some other way to torment each other (and us).
I liked the Mom. She had a good job and would be home a lot. I knew Mazie would be fine with her, but with those kids? I just didn't know. I did, however, know two things: kids get tired eventually AND kids grow up. I had my first kitten when I was just four years old. Whose to say these girls shouldn't have a similar experience? I didn't see them as being violent to an animal. I saw typical sibling rivalry and I guessed they were revved up because someone new was in the house.
Their mom was not a pushover. I knew she would be responsible and make sure Mazie was safe, but how would Mazie handle this? There was only one way to find out.
I invited them to come over the next morning.
I thought that perhaps the girls would be different in my home. At first, they were much quieter, especially when they realized Mazie would run off if they got too loud. Mazie didn't seem to care for them, keeping a safe distance. I told the girls to sit on the floor and let Mazie come to them. She did, but very hesitantly. The girls would try to grab at her, unable to hold back their enthusiasm. I supposed they expected her to be friendlier, and I did, too, but clearly Mazie was getting crankier, the longer they were there.
I didn't want to be close-minded and just say no. This was their first time with Mazie and vice versa. Perhaps they would all learn to adjust and become really good friends?
I took the girls upstairs to meet the kittens while Sam stayed with their Mom and Mazie. I wanted Sam to observe things so I could have his opinion. He's a dad, after all, with a full grown daughter. I depend on him to see things or understand things I could not.
The girls were little turds. Sorry to say that, but the older one was shockingly critical about there being cat litter grains on the floor and that it smelled in the room. It did smell, but I had just cleaned out the pan and put in fresh litter and with it being cold outside I had the window tightly shut. I opened the window and she stopped complaining and went on to focus on something else that annoyed her. The younger one was a little drama-queen about the kittens scratching her (which I warned her about, but she still wanted to see the kittens and one of them did scratch her…at least that's what she claimed, with tears rolling down her cheeks and NO SIGN of anything on her leg, which you'd think had been amputated by a kitten, she was in such distress.). Am I a fan of kids? Yes, sometimes. I love my nephew, but he's family. Again, kids are kids. They can easily be egocentric and thoughtless. Did they just go through the trauma of having their parents split up? Yes. Were these girls going to do harm to Mazie? No. Would they annoy her? Yes, probably. Would I be terminally confused about what to do? Looks that way.
I didn't know what to do and I said as much to the Mom. I was able to get some feedback from Sam for a quick minute when the mom was dealing with the girls. He said that he saw the Mom with Mazie and that she was very sweet with the cat. That Mazie seemed to like her very much and was quite relaxed and content to be with her. He also said that although the girls were not being angels, that the excitement of having a new cat would wear off and that they'd soon go on to something else. That the Mom would really be Mazie's buddy and that Mazie could protect herself as well as find a place to hide if the girls got out of hand.
I asked the Mom what she wanted to do. She wanted to go ahead with the adoption and surprisingly, the girls did, too. They didn't whine about wanting the kittens. They wanted Mazie.
I said we could give it a try for a few weeks and see how it went. I had a lump in my throat. I realized I wouldn't want Mazie to go because she's well rooted in my heart, but I also had to remember that she will get a lot of attention, okay maybe too much, but she will be the Queen of her home, instead of one of the crowd.
I packed up Mazie's bed and gave them a new cat scratcher, another cat bed, some treats, some raw food and a few toys. I knew they would get her more things, but I wanted her to have something familiar. I also wanted to tell Mazie to give it time; that it would be okay. I wanted to believe that, too.
Mazie's been gone for a few days. I keep looking for her or expecting to hear her meowing. I saw the DOOD in her favorite spot; a fabric basket that hangs off the cat tree. It made me sad that she wasn't in it.
The mom sent me a photo of Mazie with the girls. The girls are all smiles. Mazie looks miserable. I wanted to bust through their door and take her back, but it was only the first night.
A day later I got another photo. The girls went to be with their dad for a few days. I knew Mazie was getting a break from them. The photo shows Mazie laying on the bed in the sunshine, washing her face. She looks as happy as can be and no sign of any stress.
It would have been easy to say no to this adoption and just keep Mazie, but I didn't feel she would be in any danger. Kids grow up and things change. I think Mazie will have a comfortable life with occasional irritations, nothing any different then any of us experience from day to day. I'm not being glib, I'm just trying to keep myself from freaking out and running over to the house and taking Mazie back.
Let's give it some time and see how it goes.
Fingers and toes crossed.
Update: Just before I posted this story I got an update from Mazie's adopter. She wrote:“Mazie is doing overall very well. She loves the home and is seeming to acclimate very well. She loves to talk and run around the house at night and she tends to sleep during the day. The girls arrived back on Wednesday AM. They were very excited about seeing her again and tended to want to see her even if she was a little apprehensive because of all the noise and excitability. She has made some good progress since Wed AM and the girls have also been spoken to about the fact that if they cannot be calm around her and earn her trust that she may have to go back. I am using this for leverage and it seems to be working well.
I expect things to calm down over the next few weeks and I also think that Mazie will continue to gain confidence and trust in her surroundings. We love her so much she is a wonderful addition to our family :-)”
Over a year ago, I rescued a family from Henry County Care & Control in McDonough, Georgia. They were like any other family I'd rescued before-a young mama cat and her kittens, who were dumped by their former family to await death in a steel cage. They were a problem to be gotten rid of and forgotten about. The folks at Henry County prayed for help. They never want to end the life of any animal, yet their hand is forced when space runs out or a cat gets sick. Easily treatable conditions, mean an untimely death. They kill to prevent transmission of illness to the others, but it's so unfair that a simple sniffle can mean “the end.”
This little family was getting sick. The kitten's eyes were getting watery looking, a sure sign an upper respiratory was brewing. They had to get out of the shelter ASAP so we decided to cross our fingers and hope we got them out before the virus could take hold. We got them out in time, but we were too late to stop the illness from ravaging their tiny bodies.
To date, this family was the sickest family I've ever rescued. The kittens, Polly Picklepuss, Chester Cheesetoes and little CaraMelle suffered terribly and for months. Their mama, who I named, Mazie, watched protectively over them, trying desperately to help them get better, but she, too, got the URI. At least she had an intact immune system and was able to fight off the worst of it, while her offspring battled one wave after another of waxing and waning illness.
The kittens were taken to the Vet, the Emergency Vet, we consulted with our homeopathic Vet, Dr. Ann Hermas. We did everything we could. Poor Mama-Maria, their awesome foster mom, was providing their care, but at the cost of her own well being. What stress she suffered having to go to work, leaving sick kittens at home, wondering if she'd find them living when she returned. She did so many vet runs, it almost became a joke, but we were both too stressed to laugh about it.
After a few months, the kittens were stable enough to move north. They came up on a private transport so they'd have the best care possible. When they arrived, they seemed to be in fairly good condition, but I expected things to go downhill and they did rather quickly.
While Mazie did all right, her kittens did not fare as well. Cara, in particular was very ill, vomiting frequently. Polly's eyes were awful. Chester seemed less effected. We guessed it was because he was born first and bigger than his sisters.
It was a very LONG, difficult struggle. I was taking the kittens to the vet, wondering what to do for poor Cara, whose vomiting was stunting her growth. You may recall that Cara had to see specialists and ended up having three endoscopies over four months. Chester and Polly had to see an eye specialist. They had scar tissue in their tear ducts that resulted in chronic weepy eyes.
As the kittens finally got better, Mazie took a sudden, frightening turn for the worse. This was no URI, but we didn't know what was causing her soaring temperature, projectile vomiting and lethargy. In May, Mazie was hospitalized and put on an IV for a few days. We did blood work, x-rays and a lot of head-scratching. If Mazie didn't turn around she was going to die. It was so shocking to even consider-after all this, now I'm going to lose not a kitten, but their Mother?
Mazie recovered. She was weak and on antibiotics for awhile. We never figured out what happened to her, only that she seemed well. Her appetite came back and she got that sparkle back in her big owly eyes. I was reluctant to relax. This family had been sick for EIGHT MONTHS. You can read more about the kittens HERE, Mazie getting sick: HERE, and more about them HERE.
Then Chester got adopted and is now named, Boris. He lives with a lovely family and two dogs and two older cats. Recently, Boris got a new buddy. The older cats didn't want to play with him so his family adopted another young cat so Boris would have a pal. I'm told they were instant best friends.
Polly was well enough to be adopted, though her eyes will always be a bit runny. She went with MacGruber, who was one of our favorite orangey-goodness babies. They're doing GREAT and having blast in their new home. Their parents dote on them and can't wait to spend their first Christmas together.
Little Cara had a benefactor during her protracted illness. My dear friend Connie fell in love with her from the start and was always there to help pay for Cara's Vet bill when our pockets were empty. Without Connie, I don't know what would have become of Cara.
When Cara was well enough, she began to spend time with Connie and her many cats. First, as a foster, then as the little Princess who now runs the household. Cara has blossomed into a lovely young lady. We thought we'd lose her so many times, but now she's doing well, thriving and enjoying her life with Connie and her other kitties. Cara looks more and more like her mama, Mazie, every day.
Mazie was supposed to go to Animals in Distress, but with so many issues coming up and her being around sick kittens, I felt it was not fair to expose a shelter full of cats to who-knows-what (we think, in the end, it was a very nasty herpes virus that sickened this family).
After Mazie fell ill, we certainly could not move her. By the time her offspring were adopted, Mazie had full run of the house and had met my other cats. It freed up the foster room so I could help more cats and she had space to stretch out and new friends (or not!) to make.
Mazie integrated beautifully into my home. She is always on the lookout for something. It's as though without her kittens to protect, she's watching out for us.
She loves to climb the tallest cat tree and survey her territory or slap Blitzen and the DOOD in the face if they challenge her from below. It's comical, not violent. Mazie loves to visit me in my office and is often “chatting” with me about thins or that. Mostly she wants to be picked up or be close to me. I know she doesn't get enough one on one attention and she so deserves it.
She knows if she's doing something, like get into the pantry, that she's not supposed to do. If I scold her she meows at me, then gives me a sassy HISS as she passes next to me!
God forbid a mouse enters the house because Mazie will find it. Normally we get one sullen, suicidal mouse in our house each autumn, but in the past two months, Mazie has taken out EIGHT of them! Yes, we need to check out our basement and find out where they are coming in. I pity any mouse who is foolish enough to enter our home. Mazie doesn't make a mess with them, she just kills them, then the DOOD will run off with the body, growling away, until we can get it from him. Mazie, proud of her work, doesn't need to protect her kill. The fun part for her is over and she simply sits on the floor looking proud of herself.
Mazie reminds me of my cat, Squeegee, who passed away many years ago. Squeegee had white mittens, stripes and patches, big green eyes. Mazie always looks like she's wondering what's going on. I think it's her big eyes that make her look so curious, and her constant chattering that makes me laugh.
I've come to love Mazie as my own and I've truly enjoyed seeing her blossom into a fine young lady.
But it's time. Time for her to move on. Time for me to make room for more. This will be the toughest adoption I have ever done. I feel like I'm not doing an adoption, but rehoming my own cat. 14 months is a very long journey and Mazie got under my skin. If she never left, I wouldn't be upset about it, but in fairness to her, she deserves a better home where she can get lots of attention and not have to struggle to find a place on the bed to sleep that isn't already taken by another cat.
I can rationalize this all I want, but in the end, this will be painful and I have to stand by my conviction that it's not good for her to not have everything she needs. If I can find that with another family, then she will enjoy her life with them.
That's IF I can let her go.
I need to prepare myself that Maize won't always be with me. I need to prepare myself because that moment is coming soon. In fact, that moment is now.
Nothing says the Holiday season better than hysterically trying to wrangle four kittens into a faux Holiday scene so you can get a photo for your Holiday Card. Bloodshed be damned! We were going to get this done!
Chris Clark, from Greengirlz Pet Photography, was so gracious to let us do a VERY LAST MINUTE photo shoot for our Holiday Card. Sam and I “wrangled” the kittens into "position" while Chris Clark snapped away at her camera. She taught us that you can actually get the cats to pose by being very relaxed with them and by constantly re-positioning them where you want them---one hand on the chest, one hand on the back at the base of the tail. Just keep reminding them how you want them to sit. After awhile, they began to stay in the sleigh. One of the kittens got cranky so we put him in a crate for a few minutes, thinking we'd be lucky to get a photo with the three kittens. It ended up that the time out was a good thing. We grabbed Snowball after his time out and placed him back with the group. Chris got to work and she got some really great shots..and no blood was shed!
I did some photoshop magic taking one great photo, then changing out one cat for another. I still made certain we had one of EACH of the kittens represented-even though Sam thought I was nuts. Yes, I am nuts, I know that. I grabbed a line from the song; “White Christmas” and added it to the image and the rest is history!
I have a mad crush on each six month old kittens. They're each so very friendly and sweet with loads of charm. I love to handle them and hold them. They impress everyone they meet.
I'm surprised they all didn't get adopted in a second, but sadly applications are slow to come in on them. The good news is that yesterday, little Princess, DID get adopted by a lovely family. They had a very tough choice between Princess and Snowball. Secretly I hoped they'd take Princess, because I love the fact that Snowball will jump into my arms on command (and some times when I'm not ready, too!). He never uses his claws on me! Amazing!
The kittens are getting big and their room is small. I'm working hard to find them great homes and I hope I can do that soon. I've had to turn away a lot of people who wanted to "surprise" someone with a kitten as a gift. Most people don't get why that's a terrible idea, so I have to play the bad cop and say no.
The number one reason for animals to be surrendered to shelters is because they were given as a gift and that person didn't want them, they grew out of being cute and the lifetime of commitment was something they didn't want to have to deal with that-plus the Holidays are busy enough. Do you really want to have to spend time caring for a new animal in your home then, too?
Recent comments