Crazy

I haven't socialized super-fractious kittens very often and Candy certainly is going to be among one of the toughest nuts to crack. It appears she has never been handled, given that she growls, spits, stomps and hisses if I get near her. She's still very young. Her back legs are still weak. She's very small. I would think she's no more than five weeks old.

I did some reading and there is the thought that it might take a week or two before she will come around. At this point, I would be surprised if it were that short of a period, BUT...Candy already has made some changes in just barely a day.

Yesterday, Candy ate some chicken baby food off a tiny spoon that was attached to a long stick. It was touch and go, but once she realized what was in the spoon, she ate, hissed a bit, ate, then started to meow LOUDLY. It was very clear that she is quite distressed and most likely, calling to her Mother. I took it as a good sign that she was meowing and eating in front of me, but of course I was sad, too. She must be going through Hell right now. She's alone, scared, wants to feed off her Mama. I can't comfort her. All I can do is hope she will find the courage to become to trust me and then I can give her all the love and comfort she so desires.

Last night I fed Candy more special treats. She has water and dry food all day, but she only gets the good stuff when I'm in the room. She kept crying and crying. Blitzen sits outside her door and cries when I'm in the room with Candy-which makes Candy cry even more.

The poor little baby.

This morning Candy hissed a tiny bit, but was fairly relaxed when I entered her room. I brought some raw food with me and she devoured it. I got her to come right up to the front of the crate, but she let me know she was not ready for any sort of interaction with me. At one point, she walked right up to the front of the crate, crying for her mama. She saw the door was open. I sat next to the crate with my hand on the door. I thought she was going to charge me to get out. The little bugger scared ME! She didn't attack, just gave me a warning hiss and returned to her corner.

She also used the litter pan in front of me, so that was good, too. I saw her step on her poop though, and there was nothing I could do to help her get clean. If I tried to wash her, she'd completely flip out. She wasn't in bad shape at all, so I opted to leave her be. It's too important for her to know me as something good. I have to wait.

A few folks made comments about the BIG scary brush that's visible in some of the photos. I've left it sit in the cage so Candy is used to seeing it. The goal will be to pet her with it before I ever touch her. Using a brush is safe for everyone and it may encourage Candy to come out of her shell. Yes, the brush is big, but it was the best I could find that had soft bristles and was small! So there.

The TV is on. The volume is turned low. Candy has the afternoon to rest and relax and I'll continue with socializing her again later. For inspiration, I will think back on my own cat, Cricket, who was MUCH older-maybe 6 months old, when I started working with him. I can rub his belly now and he's a big love-muffin. Will I ever see this with Candy?

I have to have faith that one day it will happen.

18 months.

That's how long I've been trying to find a cure for Gracie's dermatitis. I am so stressed out from all the tests, treatments, baths, specialists NOT curing her problem! I know it stresses HER out and that stresses me out, too

I'd planned on writing a post about taking Gracie to visit a homeopathic Vet. About how you need to have a different mindset about expectations of results. That it will take time.

If you factor in that Gracie had LOTS of different meds for a year, then it will take a very long time for them to work out of her system. She's only had homeopathic treatments since January. She's on a very restricted raw diet. I have to be PATIENT.

Two weeks ago, I thought that FINALLY Gracie was starting to improve. She had chewed the fur off her belly, but it was starting to grow back. Instead of an armor of scabs, the size and spacing of the scabs was much improved.

Then I tweaked her diet and she got a new treatment. I don't know which did it, but something really effected her badly. I noticed her skin got worse, so I put her back on her old diet. Today, she went to her "western" vet, Dr Larry, because I thought she had an injury to her eye.

Her eye was fine, but when we flipped her over to see how her belly was, this was what we saw.

Gracie did this to herself. It's from over-grooming. At the left is her belly and the injury goes inside her left rear leg.

It was very difficult NOT to cry when I saw this. I was in such a state of shock, I didn't know what to say. I was ashamed that I missed this horrific and painful injury and all I wanted to do was give her a big fat shot of steroids, which I KNOW would make her feel better, but which, in the long run will kill her.

What makes matters worse was that I chose not to do anything for her. Her homeopathic Vet would not agree to give Gracie ANYTHING right now-espeically steroids or antibiotics, which would be the next steps. We were able to reach Dr. Hermans, who quickly re-arranged her schedule so that she could see Gracie in a few days and she also told me some things I could do for her to keep Gracie comfortable until her appointment.

Dr. Larry, bless him, with the most open mind of any doctor in the universe, suddenly told me that he felt that I should get Gracie in to get acupuncture done because he'd seen amazing results. Perhaps it would help to calm her down and break her OCD-ish cycle of over grooming?

Instead of pushing me to use "his method" of treatment, he respected Dr Hermans wishes (and mine) and he gave me good suggestions. Gracie is going to get acupuncture in early June, or sooner if they can fit me in.

Dr. Larry says a home for Gracie by herself is the ultimate answer, but I reminded him that she was FINE for years in this same house, with the crazy foster cats. I hope that if she was all right once, she can return to good health again one day. Right now I want to crawl into a hole and hide. I feel terrible for my baby girl. Just terrible. I need a magic wand so I can fix her up and help her be happy again. I can't be a bad cat-mama. I just can't.

Unfortunately, it looks like in this regard, I already am. If I could find Gracie a great home (along with her daughter, Petunia), I would do it. But who would want a cat with a known medical condition? I can't promise it would go away. This is so frustrating and exhausting.

Please, please, please. Let me find the cure for my cat! I'm running out of options.

Dawn breaks for me at 5:45AM with the melodious strains of vomiting cats. I rise, stumble down the hallway and mop up the mess. Thinking I cleaned it all up, I head down stairs to check my email only to find out by stepping barefoot into another puddle, that I missed some. Fortunately, I didn't go back to bed after I cleaned off my foot. My cellphone rang at 7:15AM. It was a local reporter with our NBC affiliate calling to tell me that they wanted to send a crew over, TODAY (instead of tomorrow, as I planned) and that “the sooner the better” would be good.

Okay. The store doesn't even OPEN until 10AM and I needed to get Sally Sox and her kittens to the store ASAP! I didn't dare call anyone that early, so I sent out emails right away, then began to wait nervously until I could call them guilt-free.

My Director jumped in to help me make calls. I flew over to Southbury Printing (thanks guys for getting everything done in time!) to pick up the flyers and banner, got back to Your Healthy Pet and got everything set up and ready to go. Thankfully, Sally's foster mom brought the cats. I got it done by 11 AM!

I'm very pleased with how the banner came out!

Inside Your Healthy Pet with everything set up.

I called the Newsroom to let them know we were all set. Ha ha ha! Another story bumped us, so they said we'd have to wait a bit and they would call me back to let me know when they would arrive. Okay, deep breath. Good chance to take some pictures of the kitties and try to calm down.

This is Caruso at 8 weeks.

Mimi with her siblings.

The excitement of waiting around was too much on the kittens. Meanwhile the humans were fussing around the store. Of course, today was the day for the surprise inspection by the Fire Marshall of Newtown! While the Owner's of YHP were moving things around and looking panicked, I tried to think about what I would say if interviewed. I wanted to be clever and interesting, prepared and smart. I knew they would cut down whatever I said to a sentence or two, if even. I hoped I wouldn't screw it all up.

About 90 minutes passed. The Fire Marshall left. Debbie, the foster mama, mentioned she hadn't fed the cats at all that day. Smart move, so the kitties don't need the litter pan, but...they were so hungry, we decided to feed them. I guess they were hungry because they wiped out their food in seconds. I began to imagine kittens pooping while the cameraman was there, but what could I do?

I was jonesing for some tea. Getting up after 4 hours of sleep was starting to hit me. As the cats washed their faces and resumed napping, I started to fantasize about caffeine and or sleeping on the floor behind the counter. Maybe they could shoot the segment without me? What had I gotten myself into?

Finally! The camera man arrives! His name is Trevor and he was very nice and friendly. I expected an uptight snob for some reason. He was neither. He told me how it would go. I helped him set up the shots to establish the story, which I think he appreciated. Being an Art Director for over 20 years came in handy, so did naturally being bossy.

Trevor shot a lot of video. Somehow we managed to wrangle Caruso and Sally Sox into letting me brush them on camera. We used some bonito flakes as a treat, hidden next to a clump of cat fur to keep Sally Sox in place. In my mind's eye I imagined how every shot would play out, but the last segment was going to be the interview and I was the only one on camera.

Trevor told me to look at him, relax and not look at the camera. Ha ha ha. Easier said than done. He said I could stop and start again if I felt I needed to-and which I did. I was so amped up I talked fast, but I think that in the end, I hoped it would come out as being passionate. Either that or I was going to look like a doofus.

The NBC-30 News is broadcast at 5:00pm, 5:30pm and 6:00pm. Our segment was at 6:00pm. I was shaking and light-headed by the time it came on. I saw myself and heard myself talking. I burst into hysterical laughter! Was that REALLY ME? My goodness I looked like a baby seal with no neck. Overall, the bits without me in it did go well, but honestly, I love to be in front of a group teaching or training, but not this..oh no. I definitely have new admiration for people who can be calm on camera (and who have a sleek “Audrey Hepburn” neck).

I'll try to get a copy of the segment to post here. Until then, here I am in my full doofus-where-is-your-neck glory.

So that was great. Cough, cough. Now we wait and see what happens next. Will get get a TON of fur to ship to Matter of Trust? or just an embarrassing lump that we'll secretly just throw out for being inadequate?

I don't have time to worry. Apparently, I'm too busy being famous. I was also in the Danbury News-Times today, too! Gosh, fame. I'm so important that I can't even keep up with all the press I'm getting!

I swiped this photo off the DNT web site, so it's THEIR photo and they get the credit. See link above for more...

Nicky looks completely confused, while I'm just trying to look hot. FAIL!

It's 7:45PM. The day flew by. How will I face tomorrow without being on camera or having reporters asking to quote what I say? At least I have cat vomit to look forward to. That's the one thing I can pretty much count on after the studio lights dim and the reporters drive off to bear witness to the next “breaking” story.

I love what Matter of Trust is doing to help protect the shore birds and wildlife, who are in danger of becoming victims of the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico. If you haven't already heard, Matter of Trust is collecting human hair, scrap wool and pet fur to create “hair booms” and “hair mats” that effectively soak up the spilled oil.

Since I volunteer with a cat rescue group, I figured it would be a great fit to do a “Fur-Raiser,” where, instead of asking for money, we ask for “fur-nations”—fur that is groomed off dogs and cats that we will later ship to Matter of Trust. Even if I have eight cats, brushing them won't give me enough fur to make even one hair boom! We need lots more!

If you live in western Connecticut, USA and want to bring some fur-nations (dog and cat fur-only), we'll be accepting them at Your Healthy Pet starting this Friday, May 14 through to May 28, 2010.

YHP is also giving out treats to every pet (while supplies last) whose fur is donated and owners can also enter a drawing to win gift certificates and other fun prizes for pets!

And if you'd like a flyer to print out and hang up at work, you can do so by clicking the image, below.

Let's get brushing those pets and help the animals in the Gulf!

I hope everyone has started brushing their cats or giving summer buzz cuts to their doggies-then SAVING ALL THAT FUR!

This morning I got a reply from Matter of Trust with a link to a video on how to make a hair boom that will absorb oil. It's pretty simple. You just need a lot of hair/fur and some used/or new pantyhose!

You don't have to make a hair boom to help the efforts to clean up the gulf, you just need to start saving hair. I haven't gotten my instructional email on how they want it shipped, but I did see them using cardboard boxes (duh!) and a plastic bag insert that was used to contain the hair/fur. I'll post more info. as soon as I get it.

In the meantime, check out this helpful video!

Part One of Two.

Here we are in April, almost May, and little Blitzen is not so little any longer. His siblings and Mama are long since adopted and he's been here with us, finishing up treatment for ringworm and mingling with our resident cats.

Just over 4 months ago, litle Blitzen, below right and his sisters, Donner and Prancer with their Mama, Cupid—just part of the 9 cat rescue from a Georgia Kill Shelter, I called ”Santa's Team.”

Sam and I have discussed whether or not we should adopt Blitzen. Of course, he's been here way too long and we've grown attached. We've wondered if we're being selfish and if we can really afford another cat (probably not). Blitzen seems to be getting long fine with everyone and they're working out how they get along with him.

Regardless of our decision, one thing is for certain. Blitzen needed to have a Vet check to clear him to be adopted. I brought him over to visit, er, get a check up with Dr. Larry. Super Deb spent some time with us before Dr. Larry got back from his lunch. Super Deb looked Blitzen over. He purred and purred as she weighed him, then sat with him on her lap and clipped his claws. Super Deb did something I rarely see-she smiled; a big, I-let-my-guard-down-smile. It was a Cheshire Cat smile-there and gone in the blink of an eye, but I saw it. Even though Super Deb said I shouldn't keep Blitzen, I didn't think she really meant it.

I came to understand she was concerned about the other cats and how they were doing. She imagined an angry piss-festival, lots of loud screaming fights and poor Gracie's skin erupting in blisters from being stressed out. It hasn't been a picnic in the park here, but it's not as bad as all that. I assured SD that the cats were working it out-and they are, but that I did agree, adopting another cat was NOT in our plans.

Then Dr. Larry came in to the exam room. He took one look at Blitzen then made some God-awful whistle-chirp-something-sound. Super Deb and I looked at each other with a “WTF” look on our faces. The sound freaked Blitzen out so we scolded Dr. Larry, who was oblivious to what we were saying. He was too busy focusing on Blitzen, who calmed down and went back to purring and looking around the room.

”You should definitely keep him.”

“You're kidding, right?”

“This cat is...a-w-e-s-o-m-e! He is a b-e-a-u-t-i-f-u-l cat and what a sweeth-e-a-r-t!”

Then Dr. Larry asked Super Deb for her opinion and she said No. I would be nuts to keep this cat, but did admit that he was ”Okay, nice, but I really shouldn't adopt another cat.”

Blitz got cleared for takeoff. No more ringy-dingy-worm. No ear mites, fleas, URI, tapeworm, roundworm, blah blah blah. Now I just had to find him a great home.

I knew Blitzen would be adopted easily. What's not to like? He's completely confident in his fur. He is happy and loving and oh so adorable. If I adopt him, I really can't get my “dream cat.” I promised myself that next year I would begin looking for a BIG Tuxedo Maine Coon to rescue. That would put us at NINE cats if we keep Blitzen. Even for me, that's too many.

So, I need to do what's best for everyone. I lucked out and found the perfect home for Blitzen. The Adoption Agreement was signed today. I cried as the signatures hit the paper. How could I not? This adoption isn't something I'm going to be able to maintain my poker face over.

It's time for me to move forward. We have a few feral mama cats who have recently given birth. One had six kittens on Monday! It's been too long since I've had babies in the house and I miss fostering. It's Kitten Season, after all, and I need to get back to work.

I like the way their eyes reflect on the floor! Yikes!

Looks like Zombie-Kitten changed tactics from brain-eating to humping!

No worries. No spermies were released during the shooting of this photo.

I knew today would be tough. Donner and Dancer were slated to be adopted together. I was somewhat prepared to let them go, knowing they were going to a good home. Sure, I would cry, but they need to be with a new family who will love them always.

Little Donner. ©2010 Ryan Feminella

A few minutes before the adopters arrived, I noticed that Dancer had a bald patch on her leg-surely not today...no...not RINGWORM again?!!! I began to worry that if Dancer had to stay behind, then Donner would go alone and I could not allow that. Donner is far too social of a cat to be without the company of another cat. This family had no other pets. In fact, it's been so long that they had anything other than fish, they had no Vet reference. I was willing to overlook that because they would not let the cats outdoors, not declaw them and were certainly willing to feed them a grain free canned food diet-maybe even raw. They were going to take the kittens to my own Vet, too. So maybe it would be okay?

Then the family arrived. All six of them. The youngest was 11 and the oldest child is in college. I felt like it would be too much for Dancer to handle and the poor cat freaked out. She showed terribly and if Donner hadn't been so fantastic, I doubt they would have adopted the kittens. My heart began to sink. I just thought that maybe it was too much. That how could I adopt to people with no Vet reference? They didn't seem to be madly in love with the kittens. Maybe something was wrong. I can't say exactly why, but I started to feel that maybe this was not a good idea...but it was too late.

Dancer looking lovely as ever. ©2010 Ryan Feminella

I tried to talk them out of the adoption-offering them first pick of the next litter due in a month or so. They said they had been looking for a long time and that they were sure these were the right kittens. The eldest daughter said she knew the kittens needed time and that it would be all right for them, but I kept hoping they would change their minds-even after knowing that Dancer probably had ringworm.

My sweet muffin, Donner. ©2010 Robin Olson

Apparently, the two youngest boys do wrestling in school and perked up when I mentioned ringworm. One of them casually replied; “ Oh yeah, if a kid gets ringworm, he can't wrestle. It happens all the time!” Yikes! Their stepmom looked worried about it, but they all assured her it was not a big deal.

I called Dr. Larry and made them an appointment for the kittens. At least I know they will, hopefully, continue to use him as their Vet and that way I'll get some updates on how they're doing. I offered to pay for the visit, since Dancer will need medications and a DTM. I should have kept her here for another 30 days, but the adopters wanted her today. There was just no keeping them here. The giant band-aid had to come off and boy did it hurt.

I'm very thankful that Jennifer called me while I was writing this post. I cried for the better part of an hour after everyone left. Sam comforted me as best he could, but somehow it wasn't until Jennifer talked to me-my comrade in mourning-that things didn't feel quite so painful. She smartly reminded me of another adoption I did last year. I was SO sure it was the PERFECT family for my one little kitten. They were going to dote on her and they had a big McMansion, etc...

Then, Jennifer and I paid them a visit. Once there we both got the creeps, very bad creeps. These folks wanted to adopt another kitten from me and I kept putting them off-for MONTHS. I was sure they were not great adopters and I had wished I hadn't adopted to them at all. Jennifer reminded me that where I thought these guys were perfect, they were lacking. That the adopted kitten should be all right, but no more should go to this home-ever. That perhaps, the people who adopted from me today, might not appear to be that great on paper, but may, in the end, turn out to provide a big, loving home, for two cats who have carved a place in my heart, forever.

I was going to post a big article today about some recent events but I've had to hold off on publishing it for another day. In the meantime, please enjoy this uber-cute photo my nephew, Ryan, shot of the girls: Prancer & Dancer!

©2010 Ryan C. Feminella

Last night while I was sitting at my desk, surfing the net, I heard a loud noise from the foster room, which is on the floor above my office.
Okay, so I'm not great about looking in on every single loud noise I hear. Usually, the cats have either unplugged the cable box or knocked books onto the floor, but this sound was rather a loud “thud.” I gave it a few minutes, then dragged my fat arse up the stairs to see “what now?!” was going on.

“Hello, Cupid.”

This is a cover for one of my studio lights, called a soft box. It's used in photography. Instead of folding it down and storing it, I have it sitting on top of a shelf in the foster room. Apparently, Cupid go up into the shelf, then into the soft box, then fell. Once she landed, she realized she could not get OUT of the contraption!

When I walked into the room, she just sat there and stared at me. If I hadn't checked on her...yikes...she might have had a bad night and I might of had a poop filled soft box...so to speak.

I think Cupid was embarrassed and I was certainly amused. Amused enough so that I didn't help her right away. Bad foster mommy. I had to take photos first. Hey, I have my priorities.