Tuxedo's Tale: Part Two

Tuxedo's Tale: Part Two

Find Part One, here.

As the temps fell, we saw less and less of the possums. By snowfall, there was only one who appeared and by Christmas, he was gone, too. 

Thanks to the treats I placed on my lap, Tux had gotten brave enough to approach and grab them. Eventually, he would trust enough to climb onto my lap. Whenever he tried to bite me, I would immediately get up and that was it for the night. While I wanted more than anything to make progress, I also knew that ground rules had to be set with him right up front.

The ex was upset that I was spending so much time outside at night. And he wasn't the only one. Millie was upset, too. Hercules knew something was up, but didn't pay it much attention, but Millie! Millie was mad. She'd sit by the door and wait for me to come back in. And when I did, that meant... not me time, but Millie time... which meant I sat on the couch with her wrapped in a blanket for at least another hour or two. So, my evenings, Monday thru Thursday were booked solid. 

Then the wind became an issue. The ex is a great problem-solver. He used some white poster board he had for his soap business and attached them to the railings on both sides of the stairs. This created a very effective wind break. This also marked the beginning of the construction of what I like to call the kitty condo. Soon particle board was attached to the outside of the rails and the warming house was then placed in a wooden box, stuffed with blankets, giving Tux a harder surface to sit on top. 

First Time on my Lap

The kitty condo would develop a second story and an additional warming house with the arrival of Tux's new best friend... Jazz. Jazz was a black cat who was obviously a male. The two would play together and Tux would share his food. This caused me concern, because I was afraid Tux wasn't getting enough food. That's when I started buying canned cat food. That way, in addition to the kibble and treats, I would know that Tux was eating enough, because I could watch him eat it. Jazz got a portion too, because, while I was fairly certain he had a home, I thought it best to play it safe and make sure Jazz got a decent meal. Besides, mealtimes were the only times we saw him.

I started to think of Jazz as Tux's boyfriend. So, I began to suspect that Tux was a girl. Which made me think that the name no longer made sense, but... who cares? Tux is Tux. No matter the genitalia - which is something I never could see. Or when I did get a peek, it made no sense to me. Jazz, clearly a boy cat. No mistaking it. Tux? Great big mystery boo.

Jazz was a sweetie. But he also had a collar, so I suspected he had somewhere to go. He also was easier to pet, less jumpy around people than Tux. But just in case he didn't have somewhere to go (he seemed rather skinny), the kitty condo was built. 

I Gots Issues, Man!

I don't know how we got through the winter. There was a week in January where we were dealing with windchills below -40. On the coldest days, Tux never left their warm little house. I would just stick the food in their doorway and check back an hour later.

When the weather would allow, I would sit outside. Yep it was cold, but I didn't want to risk losing all the gains that Tux had been making. Also, I felt terribly guilty. Many a night was spent awake, worrying that Tux was freezing outside. Tux had recently begun showing an interest in where I went after our little sessions. If allowed, I know he would have darted inside. But, as the ex constantly reminded me, this couldn't happen. Hercules would be all over our new visitor and Millie would have a total meltdown. 

Millie hated cats. They had robbed her of her eyesight and tortured her for months on end when her former owners locked her in a garage full of them. So, Tuxedo coming inside was out of the question. 

Anyway, we did make it to spring. And I was overjoyed... except.. suddenly Jazz was gone. To this day I have no idea what happened to him. And Tux? Tux was as round as they were tall. I couldn't get over how round and solid they were... almost as if...

Oops.

New Digs

See, I had no way of knowing what Tux was. Male? Female? Neutered? We'd gotten closer - they were sitting on my lap now. In fact, I could wrap them up in a blanket on certain nights. But we still hadn't gotten 'that' close. 

I began to panic about a litter of kittens. Now I would never find Tux a home. 

However, it turned out it was due to all that sitting indoors and the canned cat food. Tux had just put on a lot of weight, weight that fell right off once the temps started warming up.

We got through spring and summer without a hitch. The ex just kept building kitty condo, making it stronger and larger. Oh, and no kittens. So, phew! Bullet dodged.

As autumn approached, again, I began to worry anew. I couldn't imagine going through another winter. I began trying to talk the boyfriend... who'd moved into one of my rental houses with his four cats, to take on Tux. It was a firm no. Until... it wasn't. 

Tux had made huge strides by this time. However, I would still not describe him as a friendly cat. I don't think the cat knew how to act around people. They were constantly on guard, ready to scratch or bite. 

Eventually, I wore down the boyfriend and he relented. Stipulation was that Tux had to go to the vet and get a clean bill of health before they could come into the house. I called a nearby vet and asked them for advice and how to proceed. The first one we talked to was not helpful and told us they would not see such an animal - that we were wasting our time. The second was much more helpful. Basically, get the cat in a crate and they will take it from there. I told them I wasn't sure exactly when we would be able to catch the cat, and they said they always had a half hour of float time for emergencies and this situation qualified. 

But can I trust you?

The first Saturday in November, the boyfriend and I suited up with gloves. He hid around the corner while I distracted Tux with treats. All I had to do was reach down and pick up the cat and place it in the carrier. The boyfriend would close the door.  Easy right?

Except I dropped the cat the first time and they ran away. I thought, yep, I blew it. The boyfriend convinced me to sit on the steps and sing my song. So I did, and guess who appeared? More treats. A pile of catnip later... we made a second attempt. I sort of dropped Tux into the carrier, but at least they were in there and the boyfriend closed the door. 

Off to the vet we went. Tux pooped in the kennel. They were that upset. Once at the vets, the folks at the clinic acted as if we had never spoken to them. They shut us up in a tiny room that was available and  we waited. Eventually a tech came in. We let Tux out and they were  freaked - the tech and Tux. We removed the top half of the kennel and Tux soon made their way to a top shelf, up near the ceiling, yowling away. 

Yeah. This was not going as well as hoped. 

Once the vet entered the room, the vet tech donned a pair of really awesome elbow to fingertip leather gloves and grabbed Tux. 

Atop Fabled House

We learned that Tux was a male (phew) and neutered (phew) and unchipped. He was given a little something to calm him down and that's when they took him away and took blood and clipped his razor sharp nails. There didn't seem to be evidence of fleas, but they would treat him for them anyway. 

When they brought him back out, he was curled up in the vet tech's arms like a little baby. We'd cleaned up the kennel and put him back inside. We were given stuff to kill any fleas and a little gabapentin to give Tux a half hour before his next vet visit.

Once at the boyfriend's, the four-season porch was sealed off, with everything removed except Tux's house, which we treated with the flea stuff. All his blankets were washed and set about, along with his water dish and bowl. I sat with him. He was so out of it. 

Thankfully, he adjusted. No yowling. No trauma. Thankfully, all his test results came back negative and he was given a clean bill of health. He was being treated for fleas and parasites, just in case. We had four other cats to consider.  A couple of weeks passed, really, without incident. Even the second vet trip, thanks to the gabapentin proved rather incident free. 

There is a glass door between the porch and the rest of the house. There is also a window that looks into the space used to play video games and watch television. These would prove instrumental in how the cats interacted. There were no fireworks, just curiosity. In fact, LeRoi, the youngest black cat would sit at the door and cry and cry, not understanding why new kitty could not come in and play.

Weeks passed and the door was open. Again, no incidents. Tux mainly kept to himself, sitting on top of his house. 

Grumple-Silk-Skin

Months and months have passed. We are now at the two year mark that Tux has been in my life. This past weekend we experienced new milestones. He actively seeks me out to get petted and allows me to pick him up and hold him for about two seconds. The minute his back legs start up, I set him down. But I do this like twenty time in a row and I think he is getting used to the idea. He watches me carry the other cats around and, in fact, watching how we interact with the other cats is what has made him curious. Two weekends ago, he started jumping up on the couch. His new favorite place to sit in the daytime is my boyfriend's side of the couch.

Oh, and Tux is terrified of the boyfriend. At first... would hide in his house if the boyfriend was anywhere near. But he's coming around. Now the boyfriend can pet him and they can be in the same room. This past Friday, I laid down for a nap and Tux got on the bed and curled up in the nook of my knees. The boyfriend joined us and Tux ran away. But after the boyfriend settled in, Tux returned, smelled his feet and then curled back up in the nook of my knees. 

So, I am hopeful. Thinking, next year at this time, I will be able to tell you that he's just one of the gang. 

Right now, he's sort of not. He took to the litter box right away, yay. But when the other cats started to use his litter box upstairs he got mad and now pees once a week in that big kennel we put him in to take him to the vet. Only once a week. And that is the only place he pees - although the boyfriend's tennis shoes and gym clothes got a dousing once, too - which taught him not to leave his dirty clothes on the floor!

Dis Somebody Else's House

Tux now plays with the other cats. He sits in window sills, too. He is, surprisingly, the only cat that never tries to get out of the house when a door is open. No interest. None. He continues to eat by himself on the porch. We have moved the cat's bowls up to the kitchen from the basement and it is my hope that by next year I can get them all to eat side by side. Tux continues to spend his evenings sleeping on top of his house. Since this covid thing began, I have been able to visit him twice a day during the week and spend all weekend with him. I am starting to suspect he misses me when I am not around. 

This has been a long journey. I surprised myself with how patient I could be. It has taught me that tiny victories are still victories. And that it takes a village to rescue a cat. 

My ex won't admit it, but when kitty condo had to come down, he was a bit sad. He had such plans for it this winter... we were going to decorate it for each holiday. 

Really grateful that everything has worked out the way it has for Tux. The boyfriend is a great cat Dad and takes his responsibilities very seriously. The other cats have been super cool about accepting Tux, as is. The oldest cat, Cedric (23), actually seems to be the cat Tux spends the most time with, although he does enjoy chasing the younger two cats. 

I can't get over how soft Tux's fur is. I think he's a very beautiful cat. 

We are lucky to have found each other.

Anyone Who Had A Heart - Dionne Warwick