Kitten

5AM, once again, almost as though a vengeful alarm clock went off, I wake up, hearing one of the blasted cats puking. I dragged myself downstairs to discover Cricket leaving a trail of puke from the kitchen to the basement stairs. Nice.

Before I can even reach the paper towel dispenser, I smell something awful. I look, and, of course, I find Nicky (most likely) dropped a few "friends off" on the bathroom floor.

I'm so tired and so tired of these 5AM puke up calls. I reach down to clean up another mess and all of a sudden I get horrible pains in my abdomen, then my chest. I slowly stand and shuffle over to the sofa and just sit down. I'm so woozy from the lousy sleep, it's really effecting me.

After I finish cleaning everything up, I slowly drag back to bed. My legs are heavy. It's too hot in the house. Ugh.

I finally get to sleep after an hour and I drop off deeply for awhile. Then, guess what? Yep. Bob pukes. 9am. He is hungry. I should have been up by now to feed him. I think he pukes when he's super empty because all he vomited was some water. I get the cats fed and figure I'm up for the day.

I get the food ready for the kittens and make my way back upstairs to feed them. I open the door to "The Ladies Room" (which is my guest room where Gabby and her 3 girls are) to find little Pixie laying on the floor, looking rather odd. Something is wrong, but I go about getting them fed. I see her on the bed, where I feed the kittens. She's not bearing weight on her front left leg. She looks like she's shaking. Oh no.

I feel her leg. It feels normal, though what do I know from normal? It doesn't feel massively broken. She doesn't want to eat much, if anything. I call our Director. I'm frantic, but it's because I'm not used to this stuff yet. She assures me she will get me a Vet app't and to not worry. Maybe the kitten is sick or she has had a bad reaction to the FCRVP shot she got a few days ago.

Longer story, shorter-I end up taking Pixie and her sisters to visit Super Deb and Dr. Larry. It just worked out better for all and I was glad to have them see the kittens.

Super Deb gives Twinkles and Sprinkles a nail trim. Ooo la la!

A week ago today, Tweetie bit me when I tried to pet him. Since it broke the skin and Tweetie hadn't had his rabies shot yet, I was "strongly urged" by Dr. Larry to get my arse to the ER to get post exposure Rabies treatment. I made a few calls and found out it would be covered, but the insurance company "urged" me not to go to the ER. The only place that HAS the meds IS the ER.

So I cleaned out the wound and decided to just give it some time. Tweetie had already been in our Program for more than the 10 day observation period, so odds are, he and I would both be fine.

I think this is a metaphor for Tweetie. At first, I was "urged" to consider releasing him. He'd bitten me and the Director. He was fearful, but not aggressive (whew). It was an appropriate "treatment."

As you know, we decided to give it some time and see how Tweetie did on his own. Isolation can some times push a feral kitten into yearning for physical connection so deeply that he'll seek it out from the ones he may have feared most, humans. But not every kitten will respond well and there's a tipping point at which we MUST release them if we can't coax them into being social butterflies.

Yesterday was an important clue to how things might go with Tweetie, once he was returned to living in my bathroom (still have other fosters in the "guest room" so this was what was left). I realized I was reluctant to engage with him, fearing another bite. After feeding him, I decided to just let him unwind for an hour. He'd just been returned from being neutered and getting his shots and being parted from his family and I didn't want to add to his stress.

I went up to see him again. I found him lying in a comfy cat bed in the bathtub. He was stretched out, relaxed. I called to him in a whisper as to not stress him. I kneeled down slowly and prepared to extend my hand out to pet him, keeping my fingers together (or else they think you're putting your claws out at them!)...when I heard something.

Tweetie was purring.

LOUD.

I began to pet the back of his head and he kept on purring. I petted his back and he tensed up a bit, but let me continue. I even rubbed his belly a bit, which scared him and he jumped up and ran to the cat condo near the tub. With me sitting, he could, in a sense tower over me. I felt this was better for him, too. He relaxed. I petted him a bit more, then he had enough and ran to rake his claws onto the cardboard scratchy thing.

We had a nice play time. I got him some new toys which he enjoyed.

Then he did something that broke my heart.

He dove onto the bathroom rug and furiously began to "make muffins" on it. His purr filled the room. He was, most likely, comforting himself and thinking about his Mama. I wanted to pick him up and hold him, but it's too soon to try that. Tweetie has shown remarkable progress in a very short time, but I need to be patient and take it slow.

I just started to implement tags, that you'll see listed at the bottom of all my new posts. Click on any tag to see related articles I've published that contain those words or phrases.

Now, I've written about 500 posts, so keep in mind it will be awhile before I finish getting every one tagged properly. I may just curl up in a ball and cry, wishing a genie with magical powers would just "poof" and make everything tagged now, but if I had a genie with magical powers, I sure as heck wouldn't waste a wish on tagging Blog posts!

Really. Who do you think I am, anyway?

Oh yeah. I forgot to upload this a few weeks ago. I guess things got a bit busy. This is Sprinkles first litter pan poop. I'm so proud of her! She got her first round of shots and her first checkup today. She's doing great! (and I think she's gonna get adopted by a really great lady...shhh...don't tell)

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.

I've been remiss in mentioning my other foster babies. They've grown quite a lot since they first came here in early June. They were barely a few days old at the time.

It took almost 4 weeks before I was able to handle any of them since their feral Mama was not going to let me. Once things settled down and the kittens were big enough to move on their own, I found ways to begin the process of desensitizing them to being around humans.

As always, it's slow going and along the way I fretted about them reaching their milestones—especially little Twinkles, the runt of the litter.

She was the last to eat big kitty food, the one who always seemed very fragile when I handled her. She's still quite the Mama's girl, but she started to trust me enough to rest in my lap and now she plays along with her siblings, though she is slower to make sense of toys than the others.

The time is soon approaching when this litter will get spayed/neutered, then hopefully adopted (Pixie may already be spoken for!). Mama will be spayed, then released back to her caretaker and her life outdoors as she is, if there is such a thing, extremely feral. She has shown no sign of wanting to warm up to me in the past 7 weeks. I've tried to offer her treats and kindness, but they are received with hisses. That's ok. Her offspring are safe. She is healthy and gaining back some weight. She'll be ready when the time comes.

I'll miss these guys a lot. Sprinkles and Twinkles drive me crazy. I think they're twins. I can only tell them apart by their behavior. Sprinkles is outgoing and nutty and Twinkles is more reserved and sweet. Both of them are going to be great companions to some lucky family-so is Pixie.

I've got too much more to update...I've completely left out my own cats, Bob, Nicky and Gracie! There's lots more news, but for now, a much needed break from writing, photographing, feeding, cleaning up and playing with kittens.

Good night!

Yesterday I posted a photo on Twitter of one of my foster kittens, Tweetie. He has an uncanny resemblance to The Famous Sockington, a cat so famous he has his own Army! Now, THAT is one cool cat.

Thousands of folks visited Tweetie's photo and visited my humble BLOG. Many were asking about adopting Tweetie, even though he's still a wild child and has a long way to go before he'll ever like people. It does my heart good to know about that support.

The sad reality for us, is that our rescue group is small and we don't have the luxury of time, to turn Tweetie, and those like him, into adoptable companions. This is why our group does TNR and we don't try to adopt out kittens who won't make good companions without months or years of work.

For those of you not yet familiar with TNR. TNR is "Trap, Neuter, Return" You can read this article on the ASPCA's web site

Tweetie IS adorable, but he's already bitten two people, myself included. Since he's been here, I've seen him soften a bit and I know I could turn him around, IF we had plenty of foster families or the money to open a shelter, since that would take the burden off me to foster more kittens.

That forces us to weigh the options. If I kept Tweetie for six months, I couldn't take any more foster kittens. That would mean, at least 24 to up to 50 kittens could have passed through my doors, who won't even get a chance to be rescued AND at the end of six months, there is no guarantee that Tweetie would be adoptable by then.

As I write this, I know of two kittens living in a car at one of the nearby town's dump. A very nice man is looking after them, but he knows if they don't get into a home for socializing soon, it will be too late for them, too. We can't help him because adoptions are down to nothing with the bad economy. Once we free up room, we take more. I hope to help these kittens as soon as mine are ready to go.

Alley Cat Allies also has something to say about this problem, too:

"Depending on your initial decision, you will end up with either socialized, well-adjusted kittens who you can easily adopt out, or a colony with fully sterilized, vaccinated feral cats and kittens. Either decision is correct because, as you have read, taking on the task of raising kittens or socializing them is no easy feat. Be secure that you made the best choice for your circumstances and don’t second guess yourself. Kittens can pull at our heart-strings, but in the end, doing what is best for you will ultimately be what is best for the kittens"

After all this, I want to assure you that we are working with Tweetie, in the time we have. We have to face this dilemma with kittens every year. There are always a few we can't turn around, no matter how hard we try. For those, the most compassionate thing we can do, is provide them with a loving caregiver and a safe outdoor home to live in. It's not ideal, but when you look at the figures of how many millions of feral cats and kittens are euthanized every year; a life lived outdoors, in comparison, is a life LIVED.

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.

Angel caught mid-air bouncing from my lap onto suspecting kitten, Tweetie, below.

It's official. I'm a cat toy. I have the claw and bite marks to prove it! My skin, all over, is starting to look like drunken etch-a-sketch drawings. I feel like a human pin cushion.

Oh but they ARE SO CUTE, right? That makes up for it?

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?