Fluffy

This stunning, dilute calico has long hair and bright green eyes. She's just about a year old, vetted, FIV/FeLuk negative, spayed and DECLAWED. Abandoned and left to fend for herself in the pouring rain, she suffered terribly. She was found under a car, her coat in tatters. Even though she was poorly treated, she remains a friendly girl.

Right now this kitty is in an overcrowded foster home in South Carolina (we're talking 70 cats and some pit bulls-yes, that DO get the cats once in awhile). She needs to be busted out and transferred into safe hands.

Due to her age, even at a year, I'm not supposed to take her in. I might have a foster home for her, but I might also get a lot of grief that I don't need right now for even asking if we can help her out.

She is supposed to go to a small group in Durham, CT. This may still happen, but it may not. Apparently there have been some communication issues and if they are not resolved, it's possible that when I travel to Glastonbury on Saturday to pick up our two kittens, this cat may have NO ONE to take her. Would someone be THAT cruel? To say "Yes" to saving a cat, then not show up when the transport arrives? I like to think that maybe it's just a mixup. That people really aren't so terrible. That it will all work out and this kitty will get her foster home in CT.

If she doesn't. Then what? Will she go BACK to SC? Do I take her? Where do I put her? In addition to this sweet kitty, there's an EIGHT year old SH tux whose owner died a few weeks ago and if she isn't moved out of the owner's apartment by the end of the month, the cat will be euthanized. I need to find a foster home for this kitty, too...or a shelter placement at a NO-KILL.

I stuck my neck out and I'm trying to face all this, but I hate it. It's one thing if you mess up and fail a test, but if I fail these cats, they DIE. I hope I can find the help I need for them.

The tux is located in Bridgeport, CT (I'm also trying to get pix of her)...so....if you know ANYONE in that area who could help, please contact me ASAP. If you want to ADOPT the gorgeous dilute, let me know, too! We can transport her to you.

No wonder I have a hard time sleeping!

I have to face the truth. My cat is insane!

I was cleaning the floor in the Foster Cat Room, so I tossed everything onto the bed to get it out of the way. Somehow Spencer navigated between the pile of stuff and settled into the corner, quickly passing out cold. This is how he "helps" me clean. He keeps me company while I work. I guess I could use him as a mop, that would actually help, but I doubt he would like being dipped in floor cleaner.

BTW, though he does not have the following of Sockington, I will say that Spencer has his own fan club, too. So there! So what if it's only a few people! They count!

I love you, BOB! (He looks like Puss in Boots from Shrek!)

Bob had a re-check after his dental procedure, tooth extraction and adventure with Metacam (see back a few posts). Looks like the old fella is doing well. His toothie holes have closed up and healed nicely. Considering Bob is FIV+ this is pretty darn good news!

Bob's had this weird head-shaking thing for a few years and I thought the dental would stop the problem. Bob shakes his head and his tongue comes out and sort of licks sort of doesn't lick his mouth. Hard to describe. I thought one of his teeth was the culprit. Now that the dental is over, he does it less, but still does it. Dr. Larry gave me some drops to put in his ears. He assures me they are 20 times more poisonous than Metacam is, so we should be in good shape.

That was a joke.

Ever since I "yelled" at Dr. Larry about prescribing Metacam, every chance he gets Dr. Larry tells me how he's sure I'll be using it again and that it's just fine for short term and then..tease...tease...Metacam.

Well Poop on your Metacam, Dr. Larry! Hmpf! Glad my Bob survived your prescription!

Either my cats are oddly gigantic or this heated Kitty Cabin is too small. Spencer CAN squeeze himself into this thing, but he's more likely to get stuck in the opening, which causes him to freak out and run excitedly around the house. At least it got him to move!

Please accept this goofy photo as my Blog offering for today. I'm still wiped out from the past two weeks and yesterday, spent at an Adoption Event in a bit too warm weather, tapped me. I promise to get you updated on TWEETIE (many updates there), as well as poor Pixie, the other fosters, Bob Dole, Nicky and Gracie. Lots going on!

Stay tuned!

Barely twelve days ago I took in four kittens. They've been living in my bathroom/laundry room and for an hour or two every day I let them into the adjacent hallway so they have a chance to get in a good run.

I'm impressed by their endless enthusiasm for play time. They run, jump, attack each other, climb up my front, back, legs, until I look like I tried to escape over razor wire at a Federal Women's Prison.

Even though I've blown through an entire tube of Bacitracin, in this short amount of time, I've fallen in love with the little buggers. Each one is special and I must admit I'm jealous of whoever gets to adopt them.

Twitter, is a quiet, friendly kitten. She's also a dead ringer for the first foster cat I took in over 15 years ago. She loves to play.

Angel is brave, bold, big, beautiful, with a quick purr and a sweet cry, whenever he knows food is being prepared. He loves to sit on my lap, then use the higher vantage point to jump onto the other kittens.

Fluffy, you complete me. I'm a sucker for tuxes and not only are you a fine tux, but you've got the sweet and silly personality to match. I love to watch you run. You have awesome fluffocks (butt fluff) and you crack me up. I think your name isn't good enough for you. I hope your new family calls you something more fabulous. Not that this IS fabulous, but for some reason I want to call you, Molly.

Lastly there's Tweetie. The cute fellow who looks like a celebucat, Sockington, and who is responsible for my wee website to actually get more than 40 hits in one day. Tweetie, I've seen you slowly come out of your shell. You let me pet you. You even purred. You even seemed to like it. Sadly, it may not be enough. I did try to convince our Director to let you stay here, after you're neutered tomorrow, but she has to evaluate you and if you don't pass muster, you'll go back outdoors.

I don't want to say this as a death sentence for you, but it hurts because I see your heart and I see you try, but deep down if you just had to live with humans and no other cats, I think you might be terrified and unhappy. I hope we get lucky and find an understanding adopter for you, but it has to happen in the next few days. Whatever happens to you, you won't soon be forgotten.

While I won't miss the mess that will take a good day to clean up and I won't miss having to move a blockade out of the way to do a load of laundry, I will miss the little 2.5 pound Masters of Mayhem.

It's been a pleasure knowing you and I wish you all a great journey and a happy, wonderful life.

Wow. Bob is a new cat!

Was the dental surgery, which included removing two of his few teeth, the reason for his almost joyful expression when I saw him this morning? Or was it the fact that his anal glands had been emptied of "Thick, Pasty, Yuck...a double-glover for sure;" according to Super Deb, who either watched Dr. Larry do the deed, or was stuck having to do it herself.

What I don't understand is that of the three cats who've "been expressed," only ONE of them showed any symptoms of needed anything done. This bothers me. How am I to know if they're feeling uncomfortable, walking around with big, fat, gooey glands? I read that high fiber diets help clean them out, but that would only be due to making heavy duty turds that would push against the glands and clean them out as the poop passes.

Once again I will say, CATS ARE OBLIGATE CARNIVORES so FIBER is OUT. I guess I'm going to have to invest in rubber gloves or get used to paying an extra $28 for every wellness visit at the Vet.

Bob's got that "I just got my glands emptied, faraway look."

So, where was I? Oh yes, Bob's glands. They're empty. He's happy. I swear he was smiling, but that may be due to the fact that I was about to feed him. He had a brightness in his eyes, almost a sparkle. For such an old fella, it's remarkable to see. Regardless of what's making him look so un-Bob-like, it's worth it.

And no, I have NO plans of doing "home anal gland expression." I draw the line at washing their asses when they have "chocolate chips" (my term for bits of shit) stuck to their behind.

If you're nuts and want to know more about anal glands, check this nifty, rather obvious link: Anal Glands, The Movie It needs a 3D animation and some whoooshing sound effects, but you'll get the idea, anyway.

And if that didn't satisfy your hunger, you can read this article which has a sneaky plug for a product that's supposed to help clean out the not-Fun-bags. Not sure I believe it works or is necessary, but the rest is helpful. More Anal Gland Fun

So when in doubt, SQUEEZE THOSE BAD BOYS & EMPTY THEM OUT...

...By a PROFESSIONAL and please don't do this at home and if you do, don't tell me, especially if I'm ever invited over to eat dinner.

Tweetie, got his start living life in the woods of Sandy Hook, CT. He and his mama, two sisters and a brother, all had to fend for themselves. They were all really skinny and had sickness in their bellies. One day a scary lady (who is really nice) trapped them and took them away. At least the Coyotes couldn't eat them any more.

Little Tweetie was scared. He didn't like people, even if his brother and sisters did. He didn't know what would happen next.

Tweetie and his family went to live with another lady. She said she was their "foster mom" whatever that is. She gave them lots and lots of crappy tasting medicine, but now they feel better. She also gave them a lot of nom-noms! No more bellies with worms. Now bellies with warm food. Yummy!

Tweetie loved playtime, too! He likes to run and hide with his toys. I guess he's not great with sharing, but he DOES love his family a lot. People, well they can pet him, but he's still not too happy about it. His Foster Mom is sad. If Tweetie doesn't like people then he will have to go back to living in the woods. His Mom doesn't want that to happen, even if she knows Tweetie might like it better. She thinks she can help Tweetie learn to love people, but she only has a few more days left to help Tweetie. Then time is up. Tweetie will have a caretaker who'll feed him if he wants it, but Tweetie will no longer know the comfortable life of an adopted kitty.

One day (okay, today) Tweetie's Foster Mom noticed something. "OMG! You look like Sockington, the famous kitty known throughout the land! Are YOU Sockington's secret SON?!No sooner than his Foster Mom "tweeted" about Tweetie, the news broke and poor Tweetie was inundated by Pawpurrazzi!

"Oh no! You mean photographers stay away from me!

What is Tweetie, aka Sockington Jr. going to do? Is he going to find a family to adopt him who understands his plight? Or will this little fellow go back to his life of obscurity, living out his days in the wilds of the woods?

And what of his possible father, the great Sockington? When asked, his only comment was: "WHAT NO WE WERE JUST FRIENDS NOTHING WENT ON" even after seeing the photo of Tweetie, all he could say was:"UM WELL AHHH GOTTA GO"

UPDATE: Little Tweetie is available for adoption for Residents of Connecticut (and possibly near neighbor states, but you'd have to email info@theanimalcenter.org to find out). You can fill out a Pre Adoption form for Tweetie, or any of his siblings, by visiting our web site. Please note that Tweetie is NOT a friendly kitten-yet. He will need LOTS of work with an understanding family with no small children, as he has been known to fear-bite. His siblings are all very friendly. Hopefully he just needs more time to come around than they did.

Quit being so cute or I'll have to adopt you! Then I'll have too many cats and be accused of being the crazy cat lady, but "they" never call people "crazy baby lady" if they have too many kids!

Life is so unfair.

I wrote not long ago that I felt like I couldn't do enough to help save these homeless kittens and cats. I think I'm about to a point where it's feeling like, okay, I can't do more than this.

Right now I'm planning an Adoption Event, going to design collateral material for that event, am fostering two litters of kittens, four of them get meds every day, plus caring for one nasty mom. I'm also networking and trying to find some folks to adopt the kittens we have or consider being a foster family. I have one friend from High School who's shown interest in fostering and another is making a donation to our group. I also wrote an article for the paper and am thinking about contacting the folks at the local tv news. They love animal stories and having 38 kittens who need homes is a story, if you ask me!

Fluffy (left) and Angel (right)

This is also an exercise in balance. My own cats are not getting what they need. One of the peed on a rug this morning. I caught her in the act. Good old Petunia-the one with territory aggression. She peed right between where the two foster rooms are located. If that wasn't a message, I don't know what is. I'm going to have to try not to kill her, first, then try working with giving her more attention. I've also got two sniffly kitties-Nicky and Bob and I need to be watching them more carefully, as well. I don't want them to get a secondary infection!

Honestly, this nuttiness is, in theory, just for another week, then I'm back down to one litter. That said, I have even more compassion for our Director since she takes on the brunt of the litters. It has to be a ton of work, keeping it all straight and still finding time to have a life outside of cat care. I need to work on some design projects and get back to writing my book.

...that said, there are really cute, fluffy and non-fluffy kittens upstairs and they need some play time. Who can resist?