Fluffy

THIS JUST IN FROM MARIA. NEWS ABOUT HER CAT, CHOCO:

I have really good news! He had no signs of keytones when they checked him at 3:00. He was very happy to see me and was all over me. Potassium is back to normal and I brought him some food to eat. Boy o boy was he hungry. We only gave him a half a can to start and he was definitely wanting the whole can. I also brought his insulin and gave him a shot after he ate. He still needs to go to my regular vet in the morning but it looks like he will be coming home tomorrow!!!

©2011 Maria S. Choco with food on his face! A good sign after what he went through yesterday.

Of course, this is SUPER AWESOME NEWS and it's SUPER AWESOME that MANY OF YOU JUMPED RIGHT IN TO HELP MARIA WITH HER SUPER-LOUSY VET BILL! We're still trying to raise another $700.00 or so, so if you can help out, we would VERY MUCH APPRECIATE IT!

©2011 Maria S. Choco. Glad to see his MAMA!

It's tough to put into words just how much Maria does for at-risk cats. She is one of the best-she LOVES all cats and will do anything to help them. It's OUR TURN to help her!

©2011 Maria S. The ever-too familiar steel cage, but at least this time we KNOW this kitty HAS a loving home. Hs'e not in a kill shelter, thanks to Maria!.

Here's the LINK to the donation info. Remember that the PayPal email address they use does NOT have an EXTRA SPACE IN IT. The email address has the extra space to prevent spammers, so DO READ THE DONATION INSTRUCTIONS BEFORE YOU TRY TO DONATE! THANK YOU ALL!!

I thought Wednesday was bad. Okay, and I was right, it was. Yesterday morning was worse, around 6AM, Petunia attacked Blitzen who was SLEEPING on the bed with us. She has gone berserk-a jealous rage about MacGruber being here. She's taking it out on Mac and Blitzen, but mostly Blitz. The poor cat walks around looking miserable. It's got to change. I want peace and quiet in the house for Bob's sake, as well as my own.

Since I was already up with my heart was beating out of my chest from being startled awake, I thought I'd go check on Bob. He was sitting in “his spot,” on a fleece cat bed that's covering a heated cat mat that's on three fluffy cat beds. A Princess & the Pea set up if ever there was.

Bob looked glum, but he got up and ate a little bit for me. He looked particularly dreadful, but I had to take Polly and her siblings back to visit Dr Larry. I need to update you on them and will do that soon.

Around 10am, I gave Bob his antibiotic and an antihistimine pill that's supposed to make him hungry. I syringe-fed him some water to wash it down. He gagged. I realized he had gagged right after he ate his breakfast, too. He didn't want a snack. He got up and seemed weak on his feet. He went over to the table and sat under it, to get away from me. My heart sank. Something was wrong.

While at the Vet, I almost had a nervous breakdown. I didn't even want to talk to them about Bob. I just wanted to get the kittens looked at and go home. Dr Larry pulled me aside and we talked...about Bob. He was very concerned that I've already tapped my limit to what I should spend on Bob's care, that I will lose my home, what happens if another cat gets sick, too? What then? I could only answer that I hoped it was a cat I didn't like too much, then started to cry.

Dr Larry kept saying what a great person I am and how I love Bob and give him the best, but there's a point where I have to stop from going broke. He figured I was long past that and I had to agree. Where we differ is where things end. Where do I stop tapping every resource I have? Plus, I don't care about what anyone thinks. I have to go to bed at night and be confident that I did what I felt was appropriate for Bob's quality of life, even if it means it's expensive.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Bob, a week ago.

I went home. Bob looked bad. I offered him some food. He turned away. Bob ALWAYS PURRS almost ALL the time. No purr. He was clearly depressed. He licked his mouth-nausea. He gagged a bit. He was supposed to be HUNGRY, feeling GOOD, not this...no.

I called Dr. I. and voiced my concerns. I didn't know what to expect and maybe I was just seeing something normal or was there a problem? He told me to bring Bob back to New York and he would do another ultrasound on Bob's abdomen. Perhaps he has cancer in his stomach or intestines. Time to take a look. He could give another kind of chemo today, too! What? That was not part of the plan yesterday! I told him I had to think about it. I couldn't do that to Bob-not another car ride. I couldn't do that to ME. Those tests were gonna COST.

I went online and looked up Elspar. Just about shit a brick. Over and over I saw “not recommended for cats with LIVER disease or who have had PANCREATITIS!” Bob HAD a horrendous pancreatitis flare up two years ago! Bob has 1/2 of a LIVER? WHO would give this stuff to BOB? It was probably making him SICK and possibly hurting him a lot worse than it was helping him.

So I called Dr. I again. I needed some explanation. I talked to the Vet Tech. She tried to gloss it over. I was not having it. She said to come up and they would run tests. I said how much will that cost? He should be on an IV, that means an overnight stay. There's a snowstorm coming. I would be trapped in New York or not able to go back and get Bob for who knows how long? How much is THAT going to cost? I asked if Dr. Larry could help Bob locally (and less expensively) and he's not open 24/7 so that would be a problem. I was truly panicking. Do I wait it out? Does Bob need to be at the Vet, on an IV NOW?

It's one thing when you have a cat with upper respiratory. The first few times it may be daunting, but after awhile you KNOW when the cat needs vet care and you KNOW when to let them ride it out. With this-who KNEW WHAT to do?! If I couldn't get Bob to eat, I'd have to force feed him. I could do that, but he was gagging and very uncomfortable. Even I thought he might need some fluids, at least. They said I could come to the clinic before 5pm or at 10:30AM on Friday they would have an appointment for Bob if I thought I could get him through the night.

Shit.

I didn't know what to do. It was about 2pm-last time Bob ate (according to my notes-and yes I take notes about when Bob does just about everything) was at 7am. It was make or break. He had to eat.

I opened a can of Evo, Beef. Bob seems to have a craving for this for some reason. I put a tiny bit on a plate, warmed it and brought it over to him. I put some on my finger. He sniffed, but did not turn away, as I expected he would. His old man, softened pink tongue slipped out of his mouth a little way and licked at my finger. Then Bob sat up! I put the plate in front of him, being careful not to push to much to get him to eat. I didn't want him to run back under the table and hide. He began to eat! He stopped after a few bites and stood up. He's used to eating in "his place" by the kitchen so I walked him over to the spot and put the food back down. He kept eating. I could NOT believe my eyes.

He even did his "thing" in the litter pan, then I gave him a few chicken treats, which he ate right up. I didn't want him to get sick from eating too much and he seemed satisfied. He found his way into my office and headed to one of the beds under my desk. He sat right next to Petunia-who he hates and Spencer, who is his co-Boss-of-the-house.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Bob, with his buds. (I'm going to put a better cat bed in "his" spot today!)

I have a space heater running so it's nice and toasty and the area under the desk gets lots of sun, too. The cats settled down and Bob went back to resting. I didn't want to be too hopeful, but I knew I could hold off on taking him to ANY Vet for awhile.

The trend continued. Bob ate some dinner, not a lot, but some. The Vet called me from NY. They were wondering how Bob was doing and if I was coming in that afternoon. I told them no. I wanted to say, you're not getting any more money from me today, OK?!

Since there's a storm coming, Sam and I realized we HAD to run to the store and stock up on a few things or we'd be eating Bob's cat food, too. We were gone for an hour or so. When we got home, I unlocked the front door, but before I stepped inside, I thought about Bob. I thought that I could open the door and he could have passed away while we were gone. Then I chastised myself for thinking that, but I couldn't help it! I took a deep breath and opened the door.

There was Bob. Standing up, clearly waiting for us to come in the door. He was obviously HUNGRY again! I was overjoyed!

I couldn't wait to get the groceries put away so I could give Bob one of the treats I bought him. Bob LOVES raw chicken liver. Yes, RAW. He is a FREAK about it. So I cut up two big hunks of liver. The entire time Bob was getting under my feet, blocking my way, almost tripping me-as he USUALLY DOES when he WANTS FOOD. He can be SO ANNOYING and I JUST LOVED IT! This was a Bob I had not seen since before his surgery!

I put down the plate of liver. I had to give some to Blitzen, too. He shares Bob's passion for the stuff. Blitzen dug in, but Bob gave him a run for his money. Bob ate with gusto and cleaned his plate! Then he walked over to his heated "Princess" bed and relaxed. Whatever is in that pill was working wonders.

I can't adequately describe what a shocking difference in Bob I've seen. He's more social again, climbs the stairs, is starting to meow a bit, though it's more of an “air-meow.” He's a lot less fussy about his food, too. As for the effect those pills had on me...well, I feel like I can breathe again and my heart isn't racing.

Crossing Fingers, but...I think that maybe, just maybe I will be canceling that 10:30am vet appointment for tomorrow.

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Update: I DID CANCEL THE APPOINTMENT. No Vet for Bob TODAY!

One of the best things about fostering is getting updates on the kittens after they've been adopted. It's ironic that the family I put through the wringer to adopt a kitten, is really great about providing me updates. This family has three dogs-one is a “King” doberman who weighs about 120 pounds. I was not too excited to adopt to them, at first, but I did a home visit, then gave them a laundry list of “must do's” before I would move forward with the adoption. I did NOT want to have anything bad happen to my wards-especially Sugar Pie, who was very tough to let go.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. When we were young.

The family told me stories about how they raised their dogs with a pet CHICKEN! I even saw photos so I know they weren't pulling my leg. If those dogs could be with a chicken they could be with a kitten. They also had invisible fence IN their house so the dogs could not go upstairs-which is where they would start off housing Sugar Pie.

I even asked them to get a cat tree so she'd have a place to get away from the dogs if she was scared, so they custom built her one! Okay, so I had to adopt to them and it's worked out really well.

©2010 J. Prevelige.

Sugar Pie is now named, Jasmine. She gets along with the dogs, just fine and even keeps THEM in line. I'm told she is the most loving and affectionate cat they have ever known. She sleeps with her mom and dad every night, either under or over the covers or on or next to their head. She is adored and loved and growing up to be a spectacular beauty.

©2010 J. Prevelige. Will you look at that FACE?! What a sweetie!

I couldn't be happier for her or her family and I'm so glad I made the leap of faith. These people are really really good folks who treat their animals like their kids.

©2010 J. Prevelige.

It's been a rough couple of weeks for us and it certainly is great timing to have some good news about a very sweet girl.

I know this road. I've walked it more times than I care to recall. It's the moment at which I realize the time I have with one of my cats is coming to an end. The road is full of hopeful moments that will ultimately lead to despair and to the final choice we must make for our cat, one day.

I hate this road more than I can say. It eats at my heart and taxes my reserves. I try to prepare myself, but there is no preparing for death. It comes, as it does for all of us. We either accept it and find peace or fight and have the same end, no matter what.

On Saturday I got Bob's blood test results. His liver function, one test indicated by his ALT, was stratospherically high. A normal value would be 10-100. Bob was at 1240.

Other liver values were also very high, save for his Bilirubin, no it's not a sandwich, it's a blood test. That test result was normal. This is a good thing.

From Cat World, Australia, I found this description of Bilirubin:

Bilirubin: This is a major breakdown product of red blood cells. When red blood cells wear out they are trapped in the spleen and destroyed, releasing bilirubin into the blood. This type of bilirubin is called unconjugated. This bilirubin is transported in the blood to the liver, where it is taken up & conjugated (joined with glycuronic acid). This conjugated form may either be stored in the liver cells or excreted into the bile. Bilirubin levels are increased in cats with liver disease, gallbladder disease or have excessive destruction of red blood cells (known as hemolysis).

What do these numbers mean? See THIS web site for some helpful guidelines.

Then the kicker came today. Bob had an ultrasound done of his heart and abdomen. I thought I was going to be able to sit in during the ultrasound, but Dr. K said it would be quicker if he was on his own. Super Deb assured me she'd be with him and answer any questions. I kept thinking about this and that thing I wanted to make sure he knew, but in the end, nothing I was worried about mattered.

I took Super Deb's dog, Jayne for a walk, instead of twiddling my thumbs in the waiting room. It was freezing cold outside with a bitter wind. I tried to shake off the fear of what I would find out in a few more minutes. I tried to not cry thinking about it. I know as any good cat-parent knows-something is wrong, I just didn't know what it was. I didn't really WANT to know.

When I returned to Dr. Larry's office, grabbed a magazine about celebrities and their fabulous lives and pretended to look at it. I saw Super Deb. She wouldn't make eye contact with me. Then Dr. Larry arrived to start his day. He didn't even look towards the waiting room. Maybe it was not a big deal that he didn't look, but it seemed like no one wanted to even give me a hint as to what was going on.

Sam arrived with Petunia and Nora. He sat next to me, but we didn't speak. It's been a common thread here for a very long time. We only speak when necessary. Something is going on with Sam. I can guess, but he won't talk to me about it. Instead he hides in his office in the basement and plays his guitar. He mumbles this and that. He helps out around the house, in silence. Each day I grow a little more resentful, more angry. I am shut out and alone. I didn't do anything wrong. I can't wait forever for his life to be in a place where he feels like being a partner to me again. I'm still suffering from the car accident, in tremendous pain, but he does nothing. No comforting. No nothing. With all the stress I have about Bob, he only taps my shoulder or brushes my hand. When I need him most, he is the furthest away. I have to ask myself how many more years can this go on? What happened to having joy? Companionship? Even a dear friendship? For so long I have tried to encourage him to trust me, to talk to me, to give him guidance and support, but I am tired of trying.

So, Sam is there, but not there. I am there, but wishing I was somewhere else.

Petunia is getting a dental. One of her molars has a HOLE in it! Was THIS what was causing her to go on a pee-storm throughout the house? Fight with the other cats? Did she also have a urinary tract infection or impacted anal glads? While under anesthesia we'd be finding out. Maybe after all these years, I'd finally have a true end to the inappropriate urination going on in my home.

Nora was there to check her foot. We thought she had ringworm, but turns out she did not. She has some sort of fungal infection on one foot. It hasn't spread. We've treated it and it's getting better. But what about BOB??! Will someone please TELL ME what is GOING ON?

Dr. Larry took a deep breath. That was all he had to do. I knew it was bad news and he was preparing himself to speak.

Bob's heart is normal, which is very good, but...

Fun with ultrasound results.

As you can see, above, the many LONG words that I can't make heads or tails of spell out that Bob has a 5 cm mass present in the right lobe of his liver. It is not possible to tell if it's a cancer or if it's a benign tumor that could be treated or removed surgically.

With FIV+ and being a senior cat, Bob may not be a good candidate for surgery. He may have cancer and if they do the surgery they will open him up, then say they have to put him down. That it would not be fair to wake him up when he will only live a little while longer, anyway. It's a big crap shoot.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Bob ponders his future (on his new blanket from Jennifer)

Thanks to one of my readers who works with FIV+ and Feline Leukemia positive cats, she told me something shocking:

...for any kitty that has been tested since the beginning of this year with the new IDEXX 3-way test (FIV/FeLV/HW), you cannot trust ANY positive result on the FIV or FeLV component: incredibly high rate of false positives, confirmed by retests with the western blot for FIV or the IFA for FeLV. the true positive rate on retest is the normal, VERY LOW, percentage. (and, of course, the FeLV component only tests for EXPOSURE, and most cats are able to process the virus out of their systems, which is why retesting is imperative. usually, the retest should be done 90-120 days after last exposure, but with the nationwide problems on the new test, we-who-get-the-panicked-calls-to-place-these-cats are advising that cats be retested immediately. (IDEXX does know about the problem, and will admit it to vets; however, tho they've asked for the names and contact info for those who have stats--national rescues, and special-needs sanctuaries--they've never followed up when they were provided with same.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Blitzen and Nicky try to cheer Bob up.

Even though Bob was tested years ago, this is the time to make SURE he is FIV+ because that will effect his ability to get a surgeon to take on his case. Because he was not neutered at an appropriate age, he got FIV. This is my Mother's fault and I will never forgive her for not caring for her cat. His life would have been so much better if he'd been neutered sooner and not left outdoors to get into fights with other territorial males.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Blitzen decides to lick Bob's head while Nicky is...Nicky.

I started to cry when I got the news...big, shaky tears. I tried not to cry, but he knew I couldn't hold back. Dr. Larry rubbed my arm and told me about a woman whose dog had the same thing Bob does. That he opened the dog up and saw the mass and called the owner and said he should put the dog down. The mass was too big. The dog would die anyway. She was going through a bad divorce. The dog was all she had. She demanded he cut the mass off-so he took half the liver. The dog lived...another two and a half YEARS. But Bob's not that dog and Bob could have cancer and Bob has FIV+ and he's a senior...blah blah blah...

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Blitzen being cute, as usual.

I just wanted to fall over, curl up in a ball and weep. But that won't help Bob get better or live a bit longer, at least.

So I asked a few questions, then left the exam room. The first thing I saw was Moonpie's face! His new owner, as promised, brought Moonie and Patty to meet Dr. Larry now that they are adopted. I couldn't have been happier to see their friendly faces. I took Moonie out of his cat carrier and held him. He sat comfortably in my arms. Both cats meowed furiously at me. I hope they weren't asking me to take them home. I wanted to, but they will be happy in their new home one day. Right now they're doing well, but are still scared. Their new owner says that each day the calm down a bit more and become a bit more cuddly. With three young boys to play with, it's a big change for them. I told her to give it a month and that I'm always there for her whenever she had a question. She told me to come visit them any time. It would be too tempting to sneak them back home with me, but it was really GOOD to see them again.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. My boy, Bob.

We loaded Bob into the car, alongside Nora and drove separately home. I got Bob fed and gave him his liver medicine. He ate well, then went to his heated bed for a nap. It was just like any other day, completely unremarkable, save for the part that I know there may not be many more such unremarkable days ahead.

If you read my blog, odds are you, at least, like cats. From the feedback I've gotten over the years, I'm guessing most of you LOVE cats as dearly as I do. The question I place before you today is: Are you rescuing or adopting cats without considering the effect on your own life, well being? Are you clear-minded enough to know when to say, “No” when someone wants you to help then with a cat? Where is the tipping point between having a lot of cats and having too many?

I'm a collector. I have 140 tin lunchboxes, about 50 snow globes, about 40 salt & pepper shakers (only ones that are miniature appliances), cookie jars, old soda advertising signs, illustrated antique children's books and lots more. Everything is organized. You can walk across the room (unless there's a cat in the way). I keep the place tidy and clean (save for a few piles of mail or what not) and it doesn't smell bad unless I cooked dinner recently.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Yes, it's a wall of lunchboxes! Everyone should have one...or two.

I have eight cats. Sometimes I have as many as 20. Am I a haorder? Or am I walking a fine line between enjoying my collectibles and cats, and sliding into chaos, disease and decay?

I wonder if any of YOU have the same fear I do: “I'm ok and can handle what I have now, but I could see myself going overboard if I'm not careful.”

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Recently, I was contacted by Marsha Rabe. She lives in Connecticut and loves cats. Twenty five years ago she met a woman who became her dear friend. They did a lot of animal rights work including anti-hunting, anti-circus, vegetarian education and more. She's been a tireless advocate for animals for most of her life. Her friend, who I've been asked not to name, “was beyond a doubt one of the most intelligent, charming, talented, articulate, and cultured people I have ever known.”

This is not the description of someone who is a hoarder...yet...over the years her friend developed a problem as described to me by Marsha:

WHAT HOARDING LOOKS LIKE

It started out as it always does, one good person trying to address the horrible overpopulation of cats by taking them in, one at a time.

For more than 30 years, a woman in New Haven took in strays and ferals, adopting them out at the beginning, when she could, but then gradually becoming overwhelmed. Simply maintaining the population took all of her strength and time. To her great credit, she spayed/neutered all of her cats and also provided basic veterinary care. But there was no time or energy left for placement, and besides, many of the cats were feral and basically unplaceable. They were, quite simply, the cats that no one else wanted.

For many years, the cats had a decent quality of life. But this summer, she became seriously ill, and the situation deteriorated quickly and horribly. She died on Nov. 9 from cancers related to conditions in her home.

She was my friend.

As I said, most of the 65 cats were feral and/or sick, and though we tried to find places for them to go, we soon realized that they had to be euthanized. We had the support of a kind and generous veterinarian, but the task was heartbreaking.

We are now trying to place the few that remain.

The only true outside feral is Perdita (last photo), a longhaired grey cat on the light green blanket. She is older, about 12, we think. There are three other indoor ferals whose photos I could not get.

I believe all of the others will come out of their shells, given time, patience, and one-on-one attention. If you have any thoughts about any of these cats, PLEASE let me know.

Thanks very much.

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I asked Marsha if anyone had tried to help this woman reduce the number of cats in her home and she answered:

Yes, I tried to bring up the subject of the cats many times, as did many of her other friends. But her intense sense of privacy and her uncanny ability to deflect any question about the cats — and then to change the subject — meant that none of us ever got very far…until this summer, when she got sick. Then she had to let some of us help, and we learned the details.

I think if your readers find themselves unable to say no, if they find themselves keeping their animals a secret, if they don't let people into their homes, if they find themselves becoming more and more reclusive...then they should ask themselves, "Am I a hoarder?"

What is painfully sad is that Marsha lost her friend because her friend's love and devotion to cats meant more to her than her own life. With lack of sanitary conditions in the home, it not only sickened the cats, it took the life of her friend.

I'd like to help Marsha find homes for the remaining cats.We just need a few folks to step up and lend a hand...that is...IF you have adequate space, the time and the finances to do so. I'm not going to write about hoarding and ask you all to adopt more cats unless your decision is made with a clear mind and adequate resources.

These are the cats who need help now.

©2010 Marsha Rabe. CLEMENTINE (two photos, above) One of the shyer cats, but is definitely beginning to hang out more. Her sister is Catriona, below.

©2010 Marsha Rabe. CATRIONA, Clementine's sister. About 4 or 5. Has one clouded eye. Shy, but coming out of her shell little by little.

©2010 Marsha Rabe, MOJO, a three-legged cat with a slightly twisted mouth (which makes eating messy), and a crooked tail. But he is a lively cat who just needs attention so he can stop feeling grumpy and find his way in life.It is hard to get a good photo of him because he is always rubbing your ankles. Robin's Note: I LOVE THAT WHITE FOOT!

©2010 Marsha Rabe, Perdita, is a semi-feral lady who may prefer a barn placement or outdoor placement. Very pretty lady. UPDATE: Perdita has been living INDOORS for the past month and is showing signs of coming out of her shell. I would LOVE to see her get a chance at a real home. At her age, living outdoors would be a cruel end for her. Maybe someone with a quiet home could give her a chance? Perdita is the heroine of Shakesperare's "A Winter's Tale" and means "lost one" in Latin.

There are a few other cats. One just showed up the other day so they're trying to get the situation worked out. If you have a barn and could take a few cats or a loving home or a rescue group that can help with the shy kitties or Mojo, please contact MARSHA RABE directly at:

marsharabe (@ symbol) comcast.net

NOTE: We don't display ______@___.com address to prevent spammers.

The cats have been vetted and are located in the area of NEW HAVEN, CT

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The ASPCA has excellent information about Animal Hoarding and how to recognize hoarding behavior. It's very sobering, indeed and I think it would be arrogant of me to think I could never be that person. I hope that this information helps all of you to keep loving your cats and to make sure you don't take on more than you can handle.

The other day I noticed that Bob looked dramatically thinner. It seemed to happen overnight. I know that Bob's a senior and seniors always seem to lose that padding in either side of their back, near their hips. I tried not to freak out. Bob is eating well and has some “spunk.” Even goes after Blitzen to play once in awhile. Since we're at the tail end (pardon the pun) of a rash of upper respiratory here, I thought I'd have Bob checked out. He's vomited a few times, but not often enough to concern me and his eyes seem a bit sunken.

This morning I took Bob and Petunia to visit Dr. Larry. I thought it would go fairly smoothly for Bob. He's been in pretty good shape for a senior with FIV+. Then Super-Deb weighed him. He's lost over ONE POUND since September.

Then Dr. Larry started to feel Bob's abdomen. He had an odd look on his face. My heart sank.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Bob, his usual calm self waiting for his X-ray results.

It wasn't that he felt a specific mass, but something didn't feel quite right so he had Super Deb take him to get X-rayed. Dr. Larry stepped out of the exam room. My heart started to pound in my chest. I had a flashback to 8 years ago when Dr. Larry was gone for a good 20 minutes, supposedly looking at x-rays of my cat, Squeegee. I think it took that long because he didn't want to tell me her cancer had spread to her lungs and that she only had a few months left to live.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Bob's X-ray. The area in the center, left is the area of concern.

I love Bob so much. That he was my Mother's cat, makes him even more precious to me. He's the last reminder I have of her, though I have to add, she NEVER took Bob to the Vet. We used to fight about it. That's why Bob has FIV+ now. He was left outdoors during the day and he wasn't neutered until he was well into adulthood. I managed to bully my Mother into getting it done, but by then it was too late for Bob. I realize how ironic it is to have a cat that reminds me of fighting with my mother, but I'm more devoted to making sure Bob has the BEST Vet care because of how poorly he was treated in the past.

The x-rays showed something wasn't quite right. Dr. Larry talked about cancer or a benign liver tumor that is completely operable or something else...I started to cry. I didn't want to but I couldn't help it. I know Bob won't live forever. None of us will. But I want Bob to live forever. Is that too much to ask?

They pulled blood and I'll have results tomorrow. Bob's always had high liver values, called ALT, so it wouldn't be a surprise that there is something going on with his Liver. Super Deb just called me to let me know that they pulled some strings and a very well respected radiologist is going to be giving Bob an ultrasound on Tuesday-far sooner than I had hoped.

So now I wait and try not to freak out when I don't have all the information, but I can't help it. It's Bob.

Not Bob.

Please.

What makes us fall in love with a cat? Is it the color of their fur? The length of their coat? Their purr? What is it that makes us go out of our way to make their life better? To want to protect them from harm? To see them slumbering peacefully on a soft bed-that is usually one they share with us?

©2010 Bobby Stanford. Busted out of Henry Co.

This is MacGruber. He was rescued barely 24 hours ago from Henry County Care & Control. Even though he's twice the age of cats I can normally rescue, I didn't care. There's something about his playful expression, the way he holds himself, relaxed, at ease with the world, confident. He did not know he had little time left to live, he just knew he was living his life in a cage and well, that's just how things go.

©2010 Bobby Stanford. Mr Chillaxin'

I'm partial to black and white, long haired cats. MacGruber is not that cat. Something about him spoke to me and that was it. I would go to the moon for him. I don't know why. When I rescued him I didn't even know if he was friendly.

©2010 Bobby Stanford. MacGruber loves his new friend.

I didn't have to worry about MacGruber's personality. Bobby picked up Mac from HCCAC, then drove him to East Lake, our Vet. He meowed along the way, but was not particularly stressed. Once he arrived, the staff took one look at him and just had to get their hands on him! With out hesitation, this boy was ready to be snuggled by strangers. He didn't care if they were long lost friends or a new acquaintance. He was ready for some LOVE.

©2010 Bobby Stanford. How much love can one kitten take? A lot!

Bobby reported that MacGruber just wanted to snuggle with everyone. He was easy to handle. The Vet got a kick out of him. He didn't put up a fuss or make any trouble at all.

©2010 Bobby Stanford. I love YOU more!

It seems, I'm not the only one who has a crush on MacGruber. He knew a life of love before he ever went near a Kill Shelter. Whoever gave him up must miss him dearly. He is pure in his love, somehow unscathed by what has befallen him.

©2010 Bobby Stanford. Nice heart and lung sounds. Oh..and nice kitten.

©2010 Bobby Stanford. CHEEZ WHIZ! Or...sneaky way to deliver a pill?

©2010 Bobby Stanford. Mac makes the rounds and impresses all the babes.

The vetting, completed, Bobby drove Mac to Bobbie's house where he'll be living for a few weeks until Izzy and Mark transport him to the northeast. Bobbie thought he was lovely and ever so friendly. Everyone who's met him has wanted to adopt him. There are jokes he'll never leave Georgia and find his home before then!

©2010 Bobby Stanford. MacGruber with Bobbie. What a smile he has!

I hope that's not the case, because I have a big, gooey crush on MacGruber. Every time I look at a photo of him, I smile. He's a dear boy and I'm so grateful and delighted that I could save his life. With Bobby and Bobbie's (!) help, and a ride from Izzy and Mark and we'll be all set. Next stop, forever home!

©2010 Bobbie Coker. Carpeting feels a lot better than sitting in cat litter.

©2010 Bobbie Coker. A big smile and a big heart-now is the time to relax and enjoy life.

As we gather together with our families to give Thanks on the cusp of this holiday, there's one little orange cat, who gives thanks for his life and the chance for a VERY happy Holiday season to come.

©2010 Bobby Stanford. Used with permission. Precious gets a hug from one of the Vet Tech's at Eagle's Landing.

Precious went to the Vet. It's the first thing we do when they leave the Shelter. The big question: what was wrong with Precious and what needed to be done right now and what could wait until she arrives in Connecticut in a few short weeks.

©2010 Bobby Stanford. Used with permission. Okay, I admit she looks a wee bit nutty here, but what a lovely coat she has! I like her golden toe (see right rear foot).

Precious weighs just 4.6 pounds. She's not an adult-barely grown. She's only 9-12 months old. A mere kitten. My foster cats are younger than she is and they weigh TWICE what she does.

She's a lovely blend of tabby and calico. Her coat has hints of Maine Coon. Her snap test results were negative for Feline Leukemia and FIV-I always am relieved when we get that result. She had a flea or two, no surprise. She is not in obvious pain, but her lower jaw is broken and one of her canine teeth hits her gum. If left untreated she would adjust and just have a crooked smile, but you KNOW we will not leave her to suffer.

©2010 Bobby Stanford. Used with permission. Inspecting her new room.

Her right front leg has feeling, is warm and has sensation! There is crackling in her shoulder. It is either a broken leg or a dislocation. She is comfortable and can get around with ease, so for now there is no treatment. It may seem cruel not to act right away, but we can move her much faster to the north, to her home, where we can have all the surgeries done that are required. She can recover from the stress of travel without the complication of recovering from surgery. We just know she would break with a URI if we did that.

She is not pregnant and, of course, this cat has probably NOT been spayed. Spaying will be done, as well, when the time comes. For now, she can eat as she pleases and get some rest.

©2010 Bobby Stanford. Used with permission. The paperwork you can see on the bed is the release form from Henry Co. That little piece of paper gave this cat her freedom and her life back.

Bobby drove her to Corinne's. Our new foster Mama. Corinne has loads of experience and many stories of saving little kitties and big kitties, alike. Really with no time to prepare, she offered to help with the blue kittens, then when we didn't need a foster for them and I heard about Precious, I asked if she would mind helping her instead. There was no hesitation, just willingness to be part of this rescue.

Precious arrived and one of Corinne's cats snuck into the room, but Precious didn't mind. They escorted the cat back out so Precious could get to know her new home without added stress. A soft, welcoming bed was just what she needed to take the stress off her injured leg. She purred and relaxed. Wherever she had just been-that cold, scary place, was already a fading memory. She was safe and sound, maybe a bit sore, but in Corinne's warm and gentle hands, it would see her through this tough time. Corinne will also be her chaperone when it was time to leave Georgia forever and begin her new life in the northeast.

©2010 Bobby Stanford. Used with permission. A nice soft bed. No more harsh cage for this injured sweetie.

We're all just pleased as punch that this worked out so well, so far. Thank you, again to Bobby and Corinne for all they did to help this girl to safe haven.

©2010 Betsy Merchant.

Yesterday, I got a plea from Betsy at Henry County Care & Control. One of the other cats hoping to get rescued is a sweet little girl who is, well, is a bit of a “fixer-upper.” I took one look at the photos and tried not to cry. I decided I had to do whatever I could to help her find a rescue.

©2010 Betsy Merchant. Her right front leg bends at an odd angle. Her jaw appears to be broken, too.

This little dear, gets along fine, thank you, even “hauls around”, according to Betsy, even though it's clear, something quite serious happened to her. Most likely she was hit by a car, but we don't know when. We know that no one bothered to provide her with any medical care. How they could look at her and not see that she needed HELP shocks me. To make things worse, now she finds herself waiting to die at a Kill Shelter. What kind of world is this?

©2010 Betsy Merchant.

She not a cute itty-bitty kitty. She may require thousands in Vet care to correct her facial deformity and to possibly amputate her leg. Although she can eat, she does drool. Although she can walk, is she in pain? She doesn't deserve this life she's had, she deserves so much better. The thing is...how can I get that to happen for her?

©2010 Betsy Merchant. Not in pain, this little girl can still move around quite freely.

I guess it's like everything else. You just put the word out and hope the perfect person sees her photo and falls in love. This little cat's body may be broken, but her heart is still full of love. She's a sweet natured cat, even after all she has suffered. I know someone can help her. I just have to find them.

©2010 Betsy Merchant.

I sent out some emails last night, to my “gals,” Connie and Jennifer. I asked them for suggestions on how we can be creative, get this cat to Connecticut and get her help. I would do a fundraiser. I would help get a foster. I would do just about everything I could think of, but I just couldn't adopt her.

©2010 Betsy Merchant. What a FACE!

I didn't have to. Connie, who already adopted Big O-a complete wreck of a beast from a horrible situation in GA and who adopted Little Maria, who had an untreated broken leg, stepped up and suggested that SHE adopt this cat! I balked at first, but Connie prefers to help cats that are in dire straights-the ones that are hard to place-the ones that need a little work (or a lot!). One thing I know about Connie is that when she makes a commitment to a cat, that cat won't have anything to worry about ever again. Connie is a magnificent cat-mama. If she was willing to open her home to this poor creature, then I could make it happen.

©2010 Betsy Merchant.

So as I sat in the car while Sam drove us to New York City to attend The Chocolate Show, I made phone calls. Things began to fall into place. As of this moment, this cat is FREE. She is busted out of Henry County. She's at the Vet being checked out. With any luck, fairly soon she will be at her foster mama's home and in a few weeks, she should be ready to fly to Connecticut-right around Thanksgiving—a perfect time to truly appreciate the miracle that happened for this girl. This girl, former ID# 11/10-4781, now has a home to look forward to and a proper name.

©2010 Betsy Merchant.

Introducing, Precious.

Oh yeah, and the Chocolate Show was awesome, too!

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