Super Deb

Here at Covered in Cat Hair, we're not 100% about cats! We love all animals...okay, maybe porcupines, not so much.

Next weekend, I'll be joining my cat-sisters, Jennifer and her real life sister, Lauren (who for some reason for the past 3 years, I thought was named, LAURA?!) to the Farm Sancutary's 2010 Walk for Animals which is being held ALL OVER THE UNITED STATES! In fact, if you'd like to join us, or any group near your hometown, hit the link, above, and find a group to join in the fun.

Farm Sanctuary is a national, non-profit animal protection organization. Each year they rescue, rehabilitate and provide lifelong care for hundreds of animals rescued from factory farms, stockyards and slaughterhouses. In addition to operating the shelters, they work to gain legal protection for animals used in food production and to raise public awareness about factory farm cruelty and cruelty-free alternatives.

Here comes the fun part. I'm asking for SMALL donations to sponsor my athletic enterprise. Right now I have raised NO MONEY. I am completely embarrassed! If for no other reason than to help me save face, would you mind donating like...I dunno...$5 to my walk? If LOTS of you donate, then maybe it will add up and this will not be a WALK OF SHAME!

DONATE HERE if you want to help your poor, shammed cat-saving friend. If you don't donate, I will still like you, but I might eat a burger after the walk just to be spiteful.

P.S. and I'm talking a DOG with me on the walk! Super-Deb is gonna loan me her most precious pup, Jayne Dog! Between actually leaving my house, exercising and being around a dog...this could change my life, FOREVER!

I had every intention of taking the kittens to the Vet, mostly so that Dr. M could compare them to tiny Cinnamon, but not do anything else with them, since they seem to be fine. Cin was the one whose eye bothered her and who is skin-and-bones skinny. Just having the Vet look at one kitten could not cost much. Of course, that was not to be.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Waiting to see Dr. M. while Dr. Larry lollygags in ITALY.

The kittens were a definite hit with everyone at the newly-almost-done-with-remodling Maple Ridge Animal Clinic. I was sad that Dr. Larry didn't decide to scrub his family trip to ITALY, just to take care of my kittens, but I'll have to get over that.

These kits are delightful. After the initial “ooo-ing” and “ahh-ing” was over, Miss Amber brought us into the exam room, put the carrier onto the floor and opened the door. One by one each kitten shot out of their confines and began to race and sniff around the room. Cin ran to the back of one of the exam tables, into a TINY space where she was able to collect a bit of fuzz and give us a good scare. If she had been timid, I doubt we would have been able to get her out of that space! A moment later she was bored with her confines and jumped out and continued to run around with the others.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Super Deb giving Sugar Pie a lift, while trying not to fall in love with her.

Miss Amber began to weigh the cats. Cin is up to 1 lb 2oz, which is up from being less than a pound a week ago, but still about 6 ozs less than her SISTERS..and yes it is confirmed, I have a GIRL CLUB!

Weighing the cats was a good indicator of age, which is at about 6 weeks. I began to feel some dread as each cat had their temp taken and we discussed what should be done for the kittens. That's when I realized this simple visit was going to cost some bucks. Ugh. Then, Dr. M. came into the room and started to talk about testing, more shots, more meds...ho boy..here we go...and I don't get a discounted rate, (because I haven't asked and because I'm not a Non-Profit just yet and because I'm scared to ask, so I have to feel the situation out when Dr. Larry gets back from his trip) so this is going to hurt.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Yodel and Sugar Pie enjoy running around while their sisters get weighed.

Cinnamon's temp was a bit low, but not dangerously so. The stool samples came back. One tested negative for anything and one Elisa tested positive for Giardia. Dr. M wants me to treat all the kittens for about a week and said that this may be why ALL of them feel very boney. What is weird is they don't have the runs! For such little kittens they have really nice stool. Nice size and shape. Not mushy or even that smelly. Maria and I have been giving the kittens Bene-Bac, which may be keeping their digestive tract in better condition? One thing's for certain, the cats LOVE IT, so getting them to eat it is not a problem. And yes, if you foster cats, you need to know about the beauty of a nice stool. Many kittens have lots of intestinal parasites. Add to that, transitioning from their mama's milk over to cat food and odds are you'll be seeing mooshy poop-and with kittens that can be a dangerous thing if it doesn't resolve.

The other thing I learned was that because I wasn't sure how old the kittens were when they were pulled out of Henry County, I opted to let the vet in GA decide if they should be started on FVRCP shots. Well, that was a waste of time because they were too young. Now we have to start the series all over again. So each kitten got a shot, which really hurt poor Cin. and which didn't bother Sugar Pie a bit. The shots will be repeated again in 4 weeks and 4 weeks after that. They also should be re-snap tested for FIV and Feline Leukemia because they were too young to have an accurate result, as well. Great! So I just wasted a bunch of money on Vet stuff in GA. Live and learn. I hope learn...oy veh.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Sugar and Honey B. completely dwarfed by the chair.

Cinnamon's eye was definitely irritated. Was it due to a trauma or the beginning of the dreaded URI beginning to take hold? Whatever it is, she's being treated with antibiotic eye drops to see if we can get her feeling better.

We talked about diet and I'm going to add Nutri-cal to their food for awhile, along with my own idea of adding some plain chicken baby food into their grain free canned. They're also getting some KMR since they're still a bit on the young side. Basically, I give them whatever I've got.

You can say the same thing about the Vet bill...I gave them everything I've got, too. I have sooo got to find a Vet who will work with me and who I like and and and...but I first need to get my papers filed so I'm a proper Non-Profit! I've retained a great Lawyer and am looking forward getting this done, though let's not talk about money, because legal fees and filing fees make the Vet bill look quite tame.

Deep breath. It's going to be fine. It will work out. You won't lose your house and be forced to live in a cardboard box. You won't. Maybe a small shed? Like that guy on “Confessions of an Animal Hoarder?” I have to stop watching that show...more on that next...

Writing on 2 hours of sleep may not be the smartest thing I've ever done, but this story needs to break right NOW!!!

A few days ago I got an email from Diane, who runs a local rescue group alerting me to the fact that a 19 year old cat named, Chester had been lost in the woods by the local diner. The family hails from Maine and for reasons that are not clear to me, somehow Chester, who wore a collar and leash, got out of the car while the family was eating their meal. When they got back to the car, Chester was gone.

From Chester's "LOST" Flyer.

There's a lot of very dense brush around the diner and beyond that there are thick woods. I-84 passes one side of it.

It's been a common dumping ground for cats, garbage, beer cans and other debris. It's not where you'd want to take a walk alone late a night-not that it's "that" dangerous, but...the diner is open 24/7 so all sorts of folks stop by and many of them are just passing through the state.

We also have foxes and coyotes here-an occasional bear. There are lots of good reasons to find this geriatric cat as soon as possible. This morning, the temperatures were going to rise into the low 90's and today is slated to be very humid, too. Chester has been missing since June 28, 2010 and the run of cooler, drier weather is done.

We had our uber-trapper, Karlyn, working the case, along with Barb a really nice lady with another rescue group. We were all doing what we could to find Chester, along with another cat, Cowboy, who is also gone missing, too. His family is from VA and has been looking for him for over a week.

Karlyn set up a feeding station to see if she could tell if there were cats coming to it. Then she'd set humane traps to get the cats at the feeding station. We set up a wildlife camera but caught nothing the first day. We were going to buy another camera today, but something inside me was grinding. I kept feeling like I HAD to go look for Chester again. The last time I was ill prepared, stupidly wearing sandals which prevented me from looking too far into the woods.

I didn't sleep last night. Finally at 6:00 AM I got up, covered myself with bug repellant, put on heavy clothes to protect me from ticks. I put a feliway wipe in my pocket along with some dry food and a can of very wet food and some water. I know there's no scientific proof, but all that stuff didn't matter. I almost felt pushed to get out of the house as soon as I could. I could have left in my PJ's and slippers. I didn't care what I had on me. I just had to GO.

As I pulled up to the diner, the sun was getting stronger. It was barely 7AM. I started to think that all I should look for was a sign of the leash and the collar, so at least I would know if the cat had gotten out of it or if he was still attached to it and had maybe passed away. I tried to prepare myself to see a dead cat-the last thing I would ever want to see, but I had to be tough and just get out there.

There were some creepy cars in the back of the parking lot, so I opted to walk the perimeter and just look into the brush. I couldn't get over how dense the brush was so close to the edge of the parking lot. There's a path that leads to a dried out stream, off one of the corners of the lot. A big SUV/pickup thing was blocking it. I didn't want to go near it. It gave me the creeps.

Instead I found another place to enter the woods by one of the dumpsters. I walked down a short incline and walked along the dried river bed since it was just about the only place that was clear of thorny brush. I called to Chester, waited, listened. I could hear the traffic from the highway. A bird flew over my head. A branch fell onto the ground. I thought I heard something else...a cry?

I felt like I just had to walk in a particular direction. I saw a big tree, some of it had fallen down. Under one of the large limbs, I thought I saw a FACE. I was about 40 feet away? Was it the morning light playing a trick on my eyes? I called out to Chester. Nothing. I got closer. The thing wasn't moving. I thought that maybe it was a fox. We'd heard one a few nights ago when we were last there. I took a few steps closer, then I realized...it was CHESTER!!!!!!!!

I pushed through the brush, which was much more sparse, thankfully, and ran over to Chester. I could see his lead caught up in some debris. He wasn't moving. I thought he was gone. I started to talk to him as I broke apart the branches to free up his chain. He moved a tiny bit. I reached under the tree to pick him up. He was very limp, but alive.

As I ran back to the parking lot I kept talking to Chester, telling him it was going to be ok. He didn't move, which made it easier to get him to my car, but made me more worried that he was going to die in my arms.

Chester just moments after I got him into the back of the car.

It was only 7am, but I called Karlyn anyway. I breathlessly told her I found Chester!!! She said she would be right there. I opened some food and rubbed some water on his mouth. Chester was clearly well out of it, but for a moment he furiously lapped at a little bit of canned food.

Karlyn arrived. I emailed Super-Deb, hoping she would be into work early so I could get Chester over to her. SD called and said it would be 9am before anyone would see Chester. Too late. I needed to move him to a Vet-whoever was open. I didn't care. Karlyn helped me get Chester into my carrier and gave me a towel for him to lie on. I got the car going and drove as fast as I dared to the Animal Emergency Clinic in Danbury.

It was a long 15 minute drive, but they were expecting us, thanks to Karlyn's call. They took Chester and I waited. Then they told me his condition was "iffy" and that they could not get a pulse on his limbs but his heart sounded surprisingly good. His BUN was high, his potassium was good, but his sodium was high. Obviously, his kidneys are not in a good place. Chester was not 19. Turns out he is 21! That this cat was even breathing after almost 5 days of no food or water, is amazing.

I called Chester's family and gave them the good news wakeup call. They know where he is now and they know he won't die alone in the woods or by the claws of a predator. I gave him a hug and kiss and told him he was a good boy and that he would be ok. I hope I didn't lie to him, but it's out of my hands.

Chester. Out of the woods and safe, at last.

I hope Chester has a few lives left. I hope his family will be willing to pay for his care. It's going to be expensive if The Animal Emergency Clinic keeps him for the weekend. Right now I'm paying for it, but this isn't a time to fuss about money. It's a a time to pray or send good vibes or just think kindly about a very old kitty who lost his way and who was very lucky this crazy cat lady had his back.

Come'on Chester. You can do it! We're rooting for you!

I was thinking about my recent post: What will happen to my cats when I die? I was fortunate that I have one friend, Super-Deb, who will take 2 of the 8 cats. My other good friend, Jennifer, jumped in via e-mail and said "I've got your back." Our long time-CiCH friend and Super-Spencer-Fan, Shelli, said she would HAVE to give Spencer a home, no matter what.

Then it hit me. What if...

...we could put together a group of people who would be known, trusted cat lovers, who have great Vet references, who know how to deal with cat problems, behavior issues, health issues, who, for the return of the same kindness to the group-the group does the same for them. When one of us dies, we have a number of people already lined up who are willing and able to care for one or more of our cats.

Perhaps we could form bonds during our lives and know that certain cats are "spoken for", but there are always people that are considered the "fail safe or runner up" should “Miss America not be able to fulfill her duties...” so to speak.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson Patches has her whole life in front of her, but what would happen if her owner died suddenly?

Not only are we providing a vital service, but we're giving each other the support when we will need it most-when we can no longer care for our cats and when they are at high risk of being euthanized if they are taken to a shelter, instead of to a trusted friend.

So what happens if someone takes in another person's cat and that cat has lots of issues. What if it doesn't work out? Are we back to square one? Does that cat become homeless again? How do we protect everyone in this situation? I'm not sure. This is where I'm stuck.

What do you think? How could this work? I see it as possibly something that is begun with myself and my trusted friends who would have to be completely checked out-even background check. Then, to join, you would have to be invited, then have a serious check of your background, Vet check, home visit, etc. Once passed, you're in for life. We all would pay in a yearly fee and that money would be pooled into an account we draw from to cover costs when a cat/s has to be transported to a new home and perhaps any costs to get the cat UTD on shots/tests if needed.

We'd also need an attorney to help us craft the wording that we would all have to add to our Will. I would want every loose end tied up because families fight over everything once someone dies. If your lawyer or family KNOW there is a provision in your Will, then they can't do too much about that.

Perhaps this service already exists? Where is it? Where do I sign up?

When any of my cats are sick, I get stressed out. I don't feel better until I know THEY are feeling better. Imagine knowing your cat is not well for 1 year and 8 months (and counting). It's stressful for me. It's more stressful for my poor cat, Gracie.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Gracie (left) with daughter, Petunia (right)

Since February, I've been treating Gracie's miliary dermatitis homeopathically. It was starting to show signs of improving, but...in the middle of the treatment, I messed around with their food a bit and that might have caused Gracie's condition to worsen, so I went back to her very plain, raw diet.

Was the damage done? Was it too late? Gracie had a terrible self-mutilation on the inside of her right leg. I treated it and she seemed to be getting better, but today, after noticing her lose her appetite for a few days, I knew something was wrong. I thought her anal glands were impacted and I imagined it would make for a humorous blog post. Dr. Larry checked Gracie out today and her anal glands were fine, she had no fever, but had lost 7 ounces-which in a short period of time, is a lot of weight. Now I imagined writing something more sobering.

Then we looked at Gracie's abdomen. I don't think I should post a clear photo of it because it was "that bad." She had not only hurt the inside of her right leg (which I just checked a few days ago!), but she was starting on her left. On top of that Dr. Larry said she is getting an infection so there was no choice but to put her on antibiotics, which trashed the homeopathic treatments she was getting.

We discussed the “S-word”...STEROIDS and I was very close to just saying; “YES! DO IT.” I've read too many BAD things about steroids to take a chance with them even if I know it will help Gracie for the short term. The steroids would effect Gracie's skin and her immune system. To give her antibiotics and steroids together? I just couldn't open her up to even more problems down the road.

My poor sweetie.

Gracie's still with Dr. Larry. Super-Deb is giving her a soothing bath (no steroids!!) and they're going to shoot an x-ray to make sure Gracie isn't so full of fur that she's not eating as a result (or keeping her food down as of this morning)

I'm going to try two more things, then I may fall onto the steroid sword and give that to Gracie as a last resort.

1. We're going to try Allerderm® Spot-On to soothe Gracie's skin.

2. Treat Gracie's anxiety homeopathically, instead of trying to treat Gracie's skin condition. If Gracie stops this OCD-ish behavior and feels better, maybe her skin will improve?

I keep wanting to just give up, but I look at Gracie's sweet face. She's such a kind cat. Truly would never hurt anyone. She is depending on me and I can't and won't let her down. I just wish she knew that.

I'm not getting any younger. That's for sure. Every day new aches pop up and the type on cat food can labels looks like a secret code only a mouse could read. I don't have children (other than furry ones) and my family is sparse, mostly non-cat people (how that happened, I don't know) or I hate their guts (oops).

That leaves me with a predicament.

Who will care for my cats after I die? Sam and I are together so often that we could die together in an accident. What then? What if Sam dies first, then I die?

©2009 Robin A.F. Olson. Bob has already had two families that I know of. Will he have another one day?

I have a Will. In it, I dictated that the Director of the group I'm with should find homes for my cats. I have come to realize that that choice is not a good one any longer. I would rather know the homes my cats are going to now, if, at all possible. Just as people do with children, I would like to choose “Godparents” for my cats.

Am I being morbid? NO. I'm being realistic. Shit happens even when you're 18 or 32. I'm pushing the big 5-0. I've been lucky so far, but one day the luck will run out.

©2008 Robin A.F. Olson. Cricket sleeps. My former feral is mostly too shy around anyone but us. What will become of him? He's a really sweet boy. He would not make it in a shelter.

I started to imagine putting just one person in charge of all the cats. They would get my house, most of my stuff, but would have to live here until all the cats pass away (naturally!), then they can do what they want with the stuff. But that's a lot to ask.

The other problem is that the people who would give my cats the best home, already HAVE, in most cases, quite a few cats, already. Asking them to take 8 more is too much. Perhaps, asking them to take one or two is possible?

I don't have to have it all sorted out in a day (I hope), but I dipped my toe into the water to see how it would feel. I asked someone to take Bob Dole, should he outlive me.

I asked, Super-Deb.

©2009 Robin A.F. Olson. Spencer. The pouffy cat with his own fan club. Spencer is my beloved, but he wouldn't be an easy fit into just any home. He must have play time or he can be bossy with other cats. He's an alpha-boy, too and does not like belly rubs or to be picked up. That said, he loves to be near me at all times and he's “my boy.”

I love Super-Deb, but who wouldn't love someone who is super? Even though I've known SD for many years, I don't know her very well. She is a private person, with me, but I get the feeling she's shared things with me that maybe not many other people know. She may seem to be a bit guarded, but it doesn't take long for her to reveal a wicked dry sense of humor. Her devotion to her own animals and her loving care of them is a beautiful sight to behold. She really knows her stuff and has been a mentor to me during so many crises and a calming voice during the worst of it.

©2009 Robin A.F. Olson. Petunia or “'Tunie” as I call her. She should be called; “Princess.” She's clever, chats with me and can do tricks, but she is high strung-no wonder, she's one of the lowest cats and I know the boys pick on her some times. She would be great in a home with no other cats other than her mama, Gracie. I know she would blossom.

She's jokingly called “Aunt Debbie” when Bob goes to Dr. Larry's. Bob loves her and vice versa. He will let her brush him and he won't let me do as much. I only want Bob to visit Dr. Larry when Aunt Debbie is there to oversee his care. It's a perfect fit for SD to take Bob.

©2009 Robin A.F. Olson. I should re-name this cat, “Poor-Gracie.” for she is not in good shape. I'll write more about her, separately, but she's had a very long road with a skin ailment that's taken her beauty and her joy in life. She needs a kind hand and a knowledgeable person to keep her healthy.

Yesterday we were talking on the phone about my worries about Gracie. I didn't have the nuts to ask her about Bob, so I sent her an email, shyly asking her to ignore my being a loonie, and would she consider taking Bob (along with some money for his care) if something happens to me and Sam? She wrote back a resounding YES!

A few minutes later, my phone rang. SD blurted; “Can I have Blitzen, too?!”

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Bob and Blitz. Some days things are just perfect.

I didn't want to ask her for that, thinking it was too big of a request, but of course, YES. I would be happy for her to take him, too.

I've got four more cats to figure out homes for, unless Sam wants me to try to place his cats, too, and then it will be six. Once we have this worked out, I go to my lawyer. I want to protect my cats as much as I can after I die. They shouldn't have to face death row at a shelter because they might be older or sickly. It's not fair to them at all.

©2009 Robin A.F. Olson. I assume there will be a fist-fight over Nicky, but with Nicky, comes Nora. Maybe they can go back and live with their brothers; “Charles and Bailey,” but I haven't asked just yet.

I hope that all of you will think about this and how it effects your own life and cat-family. Yes, it's scary or creepy or “you just don't want to go there,” but if you don't “go there” it's selfish. What of your cats? Their future well-being? Your dogs? Some times you have to do things that are unpleasant, but knowing you have it worked out, for when your time comes? Well, hopefully, it's a great comfort to you and most assuredly, the least you can do for your pets.

I learned at an early age that I would never be a sports heroine when instead of gracefully grabbing a fly ball in my mitt, I caught it with my FACE. The ball hit me on my upper lip, chipping my top two and bottom front two teeth. I was 9. I was wearing the new, matching bright orange polyester short set my Mother had just got me from K-Mart. I was terrified I'd get blood on my clothes and get yelled at, so while I was screaming and squirting blood, I held my head forward to drip onto the ground, as I walked the three (hundred, it seemed) blocks back to my family's house.

I was lucky that just about at that time, my Dentist had learned about a new procedure where you could use some sort of concrete (or whatever) and bond it onto the chipped teeth. He did the repair, while I was trying not to pass out from having all the nerves exposed in my teeth.

The repair lasted all these MANY years, but it was discolored and the bonded material was chipping away over time. It didn't look great and my front teeth, well, they aren't so aesthetically pleasing, anyway, so...my Dentist, Dr. David, who is awesome, who I share the same birthday with, same day and YEAR, has been after me to get veneers.

What a complete waste of money. Pure vanity! Just re-bond the teeth and be done. But the re-bonding won't ever match and will discolor. The material will fail and I will still have teeth that flare out at the bottom, like an outdated skirt from Goodwill.

We're about to lose our Health Insurance and I had some money left to use in the dental plan. I figured I was going to get about 25% off if I did the veneers, so in case I ever become famous, I figured, why not?

Let's just say, that although Dr. David is a fine Dentist and I really like him a lot, I can't understand how celebrities get a full set of these things. Holy crap! It's not that painful during, well not painful at all, but afterwards, yikes, not fun, but the WORST is when the temporaries come off and you get to hear your temporaries being CRACKED, following by pieces of the material falling down your shirt. I know I'm going to have nightmares about this.

After the chipping, cracking, buzz sawing, I was left with a fat lip, numb inside my nose and gums and with a much nicer smile. I will post before and after photos, maybe.

Bob Dole, my cat, also went to the dentist, well, he saw Dr. Larry. Since Bob has FIV+, he's prone to having gum/teeth problems. Bob's down to about 6 teeth and we're doing all we can to KEEP what he has left. Dr. Larry told me that Bob had a nasty looking molar and that it needed work now to prevent it from having to come out later. We ran the usual blood panel and everything looked normal, except for Bob's ALT. Bob has never had a normal ALT, but word was it was not as high as it had been in the past. I give kudos to his raw diet and no-more-kibble nutrition for making a difference.

That said, all the good blood work in the world wasn't going to assure me that the sedation wouldn't kill Bob or mess him up badly. I hate having Bob sedated and I'm sure I'm a pain in the ass about asking to have someone call me the second he's awake and the procedure is done. Bob's old. I don't know how old, but maybe 14 or so?

The other thing Bob needed was a haircut. I do brush him, but not often enough. He gets nasty mats and with the warm weather upon us, I thought that for once I'd get him a “lion cut” which would remove all the mats and give him a fresh look for the summer. I hoped he wouldn't be embarrassed.

Bob took it like a champ. Bob is unflappable unless he's hungry-then there's a LOT of flapping. Sam and I picked him up at 6:30pm. We got to see him in his cage. The cage card had “FIV+” highlighted in marker, under his name. It made me sad. Bob had to be separated from the other animals. I never think about him being contagious to anyone. In fact, I am going to have his combo test re-run. I dunno...are there false positives?

Bob looked a bit sad. He didn't have any teeth extracted, which was great, so I knew he would be too uncomfortable. I called to him and opened the cage door. He looked so odd! It was if there was Bob's head, attached to another body all together. I could still see the mackerel stripes where his fur was trimmed away. He feels very nice and smooth and has very cute fur “boots” on this legs. Super Deb, knew I'd be posting photos of her work, so she made sure to do an extra nice job. I never thought writing a Blog would bring a perk like that! Yes, Super-Deb, you will still be called “Super.” You did a good job. I think Bob appreciates, too, that you “expressed” his anal glands (if you want to read more about why cats need their anal glands cleaned out, see my post here). I'm sorry I didn't notice he was having a problem back there! I was also surprised that Bob has STUD tail! What's up with that? I guess once a stud, always a stud.

Bob's home now and crabby. He wants to eat. I'm not supposed to feed him, so I fed him a little bit. He wants more and is hissing at all the other cats and checking out their empty plates for a scrap to eat. I want to eat, but my gums are killing me and the nerves in my front teeth are throbbing. I'm crabby, too. Sam had a crown replaced yesterday and a filling done a few days ago, but somehow he remains crabby-free. It's been “2:30” for too long. Here's hoping for a time change coming soon.(crossing paws).

If you read my last post, you know that Blitzen found his forever home yesterday. If you read my last post v-e-r-y carefully, you might have noticed something else, too.

I said I cried when the Adoption Agreement was signed, which was true. I didn't say whose signature was on the paper or if my tears were sad ones.

It's something to consider.

The other thing to consider is how sweet, friendly and loving this little cat has become. He always seems to have a sunny outlook on life. Everything is interesting and exciting to him, to be explored and enjoyed. Every time I look at him I smile. I could find a way to let Blitzen go, but life is too short. Why do I have to say goodbye? I have a lot of cats, what's one more? Will it ruin my life or ruin my other cats life? Probably not.

So the signature, one of two, is mine. The other, not seen above, is Sam's. I cried because I was happy and maybe a tiny bit scared to make this commitment.

My old boss said; “It is what it is.” I think that sums it up nicely. Sure, I could go nuts worrying about how this cat will impact our lives or do calculations that tell me it's going to by tough on our budget to have an EIGTH cat, but it is what it is. We'll find a way to manage.

I guess I got tired of having to say goodbye and longed to say something new.

“Welcome to the Family, Blitzen!”

...and it's with us.

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.

It's that time of year again. Time for Punxsutawney Phil to make hopeful predictions about the upcoming weather. Will winter lose it's icy grip soon or will we have to endure six more weeks of bone-chilling temps?

This year, through my very high-up contacts, I was able to ask Phil to add a prediction, just for me—well, for my foster cats. I asked Phil if he could tell me WHEN my fosters would be ready to get adopted. After all, they've been here for over a month and they appear to be getting to a point where maybe they're well enough to go to their forever homes.

Phil pondered my question for a moment, then came out of his snug burrow. His answer was clear:

I could have saved $278 by not taking Cupid to the Vet this morning and just figured, heck, the cats are going to be here FOREVER. Might as well get used to the idea of having TWELVE cats.

It appears that the little bald patch on her right rear leg is most likely

RINGWORM

Que the scary violin music! Cupid, watch out! The RINGWORM-Psycho is gonna get you. It's right behind you! Ack! Hey, don't rub your ringworm on the bed, while you're at it, OK?

We did a DTM culture, which takes 7-10 days to get a result. In the meantime, I have to treat the area externally, for now. No need for nasty anti-fungals. If Cupid gets another patch, she WILL have to take the meds. The hope is that we caught it quickly enough. Cupid also had a nasty rodent ulcer on her mouth and her blood tests showed a falling Hematocrit level, which could add up to an immune disorder (FIV+, FeLuk), so we re-did her combo test. Showed she still is negative/negative and negative for heartworm, too. We ran another CBC to see if she's doing better. She's certainly gained weight-up about THREE POUNDS now and she is still a sweetheart.

Of course, her kittens have been exposed to her, and so have we, and so has OUR BEDROOM. Cupid is to be quarantined from all of us for the next SIX WEEKS. Hence Phil's prediction. “He told me so,” I know!

So poor Cupid is locked up in the bathroom. It's cold and dark in there, so I'm going to go out and buy her a heater and a cat tree so she has some vertical space in the tiny room. I feel TERRIBLE about this. Saturday we were going to put her up for adoption. Now it will be March 16th before she is cleared again.

The bedroom's been cleaned up, kinda-sorta and I'm doing a mountain of laundry. I cleaned up the foster room as best I could, but I already know that Donner likes to groom her mama, so I'm guessing any day now the kittens will break with ringworm, too. They'll all have to stay put. No more running in and out of our bedroom for now.

If I only knew then, what I know now. Don't lick da Mama, Donner!

I'm going to take it in stride, not have a nervous breakdown, but I may begin to fantasize about running away from home or becoming an alcoholic or both.

Maybe I should ask Phil? Six more weeks of madness or is sanity just around the corner? If you see Phil, please don't ask him for me. I don't want to know the answer.