The Whole Kitten Kaboodle Update

The Whole Kitten Kaboodle Update

Love the title of this post. See what I did, there? (Roll eyes, here.)

So, it's been a while since you've all gotten an update regarding The Boyfriend's feline menagerie. So, I thought it time to share again. Please. Indulge me.

Mr. Doris Beasley

Is a healthy little male kitten who is now about six months old. He's energetic and has been deemed a nuisance by all the other residents of the house, save The Boyfriend and myself. One by one, the other cats are coming around. Mama Rose, in particular seems to have fallen in love with him. She spends a third of her time trying to escape him or batting him away, a third of her time cuddling and cleaning his fur as if one of her own, and a third behaving exactly like him, jumping and playing as if she were still a kitten (which, at just over a year old, she qualifies as.)

Mr. Doris Beasley

Mr. Doris Beasley has a vet appointment on March 29th to be neutered.

 

Mama Rose

Mama gave us quite the scare right after the holidays, last year. To see in 2022, the boyfriend and I spent an entire week at my youngest sister's house outside of Madison, WI. That proved to be too long to stay away and have the cats in the care of someone else. 

When we returned, Mama, initially behaved like herself, but then rapidly deteriorated. She had a complete personality change, keeping to herself, sleeping non-stop and refusing to eat. We knew something was up (she is very food-centric) and made a vet appointment for as soon as possible.

We waited in the car while the vet looked at her. Then we got a call saying that Mama needed to go to an emergency vet, stat (and they left us to figure it all out.) Her kidney enzymes were at a level that typically leads to death. They were rather amazed she was still functioning. She needed to be pumped full of fluid as soon as possible and additional tests would need to be run. 

,

Mama Rose & Mr. Doris Beasley

The emergency vet I normally use is only open after 6:00 pm and on the weekends. We called around and were turned down by the first two we talked to. Fortunately, there is a 24-hour emergency pet hospital in St. Paul, so, off we went. They didn't have an opening, but would see us as soon as they could squeeze us in. So we sat in the waiting room. Five hours later, we learned that, while Mama's enzymes were at critical, life-threatening levels, she wasn't behaving like an animal about to perish. After being put on an IV drip, she became the shining star of the E.R. Everyone who interacted with her thought she was adorable. 

They told us things did not look good and they would keep her overnight, if we wished, and continue to pump her full of fluids. We approved an MRI. When we got back to The Boyfriend's we got more news. 

Mama had two enlarged kidneys. One had failed completely and would always be non-operational and the other was not functioning properly due to a mucus blockage. They explained that it was possible for her to live a full and happy life with a kidney operating at only a third of it's capacity, but unless the blocked kidney kicked in, Mama's prognosis was not good. They would continue treatment (pumping her full of fluids) and call us to let us know if her enzyme numbers had improved. 

The next day we got a call. The numbers were actually worse. I looked at the boyfriend and said, "Let's bring our girl home." 

Lady Of The House

Don't laugh, but all I could think of was the film Steel Magnolias. Those of you who are familiar can probably guess why. Shelby, the character played by Julia Roberts, has bad kidneys, which become much worse after she decided, against her mother's wishes, to have a child. I thought of how Mama Rose, who was still very much a kitten herself, had managed to have four kittens all alone, outside, with no shelter and managed to keep those four kittens alive. And how stressful that must have been on her system. I remember how malnourished she looked when we rescued her, so I started thinking maybe we should have named her Shelby. 

We arrived at the vets to bring Mama Rose home, knowing it was only going to be a matter of days before we'd be making another vet visit, her final one. But I wanted her home and comfortable. We were pointed to an exam room and told to wait for the vet tech. 

The vet tech came in and told us that something amazing had happened. The mucas blockage had passed. Mama's sole good kidney was back in operation, at only a third of it's normal capacity, but that was enough. The enzyme numbers had returned to near normal. It was the best news; a kitty miracle.

Again, we were told what a delight she was and when she was brought into the room, she was her sweet, sassy self. 

We don't have any guarantees, but we take it one day at a time. We're on the outlook for symptoms, and the good thing is, next time, we'll know what we're dealing with. 

Rescuing cats is not cheap, folks. That is why pet ownership is not for everyone. Mama Rose's three day stay at "The Spa" (as I call it) cost a whopping $3.5K. So, no major travelling for me this year, but then, I wouldn't have it any other way.

Tuxedo

Our New Year's vacation away also took a toll on Tuxedo. Before we left, Tuxedo had been making great strides, coming out of the bedroom, sitting on the cat tower in the sun in the dining room, and, while not seeking them out, was not cowering or hiding from the other cats. He'd even started eating his meals in the kitchen with the rest of the gang. 

Moving clockwise from lower left:

Mama Rose, Mr. Doris Beasley, Tuxedo, and Theo

However, due to our absence, the still-new presence of Mr. Doris Beasley had caused something of an upheaval in the household cat hierarchy - and while we were away, Tuxedo bore the brunt of it. 

Tuxedo

When we got back, Tuxedo had reverted to old behaviors and was terrified of everything and everyone, even me. He wouldn't come out from under the bed and he was terrified of LeRoy, the alpha cat. 

So, I started over, wining him over. It took two months, but we are finally back to where we left off. In fact, the other day, he came as close as he has ever come to sitting on my lap by placing his front paws on my leg as I sat on the bed last Friday. Fingers crossed. 

Yes, you can tame feral cats.

Tuxedo

Leroy

He's definitely The Boyfriend's cat. Even though I've known him from day one, he still regards me quite coolly and with a bit of disdain. The kitten, Mr. Doris Beasley, has really ruffled his coat. Now he must compete for his dad's lap, which more often than not, is occupied by the despised kitten and/or Mama Rose. 

Leroy w/ Mr. Doris Beasley

I am working on petting him. He does not like kisses. He doesn't want to be held. But he tolerates petting - not the head, just the torso. I don't understand the source of his behavior. When Wonk and Cedric were still with us, he struck me as pretty amiable. But now? He's sour. I think it's the kitten. See... he used to BE the kitten. Now? He's just a cat. 

Leroy

So, we have work to do with Leroy, or, at least... I have work to do when it comes to Leroy. 

Theo

Such a mystery. The one thing that he lives for? Butt scratches. He loves having the area right in front of the base of his tale lightly scratched. When I work out in the basement, he sidles up next to me, pretending he's not there for any particular reason, just hanging out, but I know what he wants. So, between sets, I dole out big helpings of butt scratches. He then makes his funny little yowl and falls dramatically to the floor. 

Theo

Such a phony. A minute later? He's back for more. 

In the win department: he has made peace with Mama Rose. Initially, Mama Rose was not too keen on Mr. Theo. However, Theo possesses quiet charms. It was merely a matter of time before he worked his magic on Mama Rose. 

I think he's happy. 

Boomer

For the past four months, The Boyfriend and I have stepped up our efforts to rescue a little black and white puff ball of a cat who washed up on our back steps. The Boyfriend declared him 'Boomer' and it's stuck, despite recent efforts to change his name to Ezekiel ("But it's biblical.") (Denied.)

Lunchtime w/ Boomer

We had Tuxedos former digs, an insulated house with a heated floor and two doors, sitting on our back porch, only it wasn't plugged in. As the weather got colder, and we got an outdoor outlet installed, that changed.  A heated dish for water and food was added. 

Boomer was a bit different than most of the feral cats we have dealt with... he came back consistently. He also would come into our house, provided the door was propped open and we were nowhere near it. 

So, everyday at 11:30 am and every evening at about 5:00 pm, the other cats would be stowed away with treats behind closed doors. We'd crack the door open to see if Boomer would magically appear. More often than not, he did, meowing loudly, as if to say, "Why am I not being fed yet? Open the door, already."

He's a pretty cat, with big, pure white paws and a long coat in need of a good brushing. 

I thought this 'winning over' process was going to go the way Tuxedo's had gone... you get them comfortable in the little house over the winter and they stay through the summer. Maybe by next fall, you are sitting on the back porch talking to them and they don't act like they are terrified of you. 

Oh, Boomer was terrified. We'd open that door and have to make a trail of wet cat food to the bowl in order to get him to come in. And if we moved? Or there was a noise? Zoom - out the door he would go. But, on occasion, he would let me pet him as he ate, which surprised me. Still, I was not optimistic about the timing - we had a long way to go to earn his trust, which I think is key to a successful animal rescue. 

Pre-First Bath

However, our timeline changed dramatically when Boomer showed up with a bloody, torn ear one day. He was a mess and I was near tears. There was a chunk of it just hanging, like a soggy antenna. And, based on the stains on the towels I used to insulate his little house, he was actively bleeding. 

So, one Saturday, The Boyfriend locked me and the cats up in the bedroom, rigged the backdoor with a wooden spoon and a string and invited Boomer in for lunch. It took a little coaxing... Boomer, at that point, trusted me, more than The Boyfriend. But, after a bit of reassurance, in he came. A tug of the string later, cat rescue, step one. 

We'd prepped the four season sun porch, so that we could isolate him from the other cats. But I was full of anxiety, because I wasn't sure how The Boyfriend was going to manage to get Boomer to walk through the dining room to the sun porch. 

Well, I needn't have worried. The Boyfriend skillfully scooped him up and brought him to the porch, where Boomer quickly made himself at home on the cat tree in the far corner. We brought in his food, and some water. There were two clean litter boxes at his disposal and we watched. As did our little cat army. 

Boomer ate the food. Then went back to the cat tree and promptly fell asleep.

No drama. No yowling, wanting to get out. No hate you, hate you, hate you. 

Just a cat who finally felt safe enough and warm enough to sleep without fear. 

We had a vet appointment for him the following Monday, two days after he came indoors (yes, The Boyfriend was very optimistic.) A can of Gabapentin-laced cat food later (turkey and giblets) and Boomer was ready for the start of his makeover.

The ear was a mess and there was nothing the vet could do except clip off the dead stuff and wait for the rest of it to dry up and fall off. His other ear was a mess, too - frostbite. They thought he was about three years old. Turns out he's not fixed (but will be on March 29th.) And they ran the usual tests, but they thought he was in really good shape, all things considered. 

We were waiting in the car, looking forward to getting our little captive home. Then we got a call from the vet tech. He'd peed in the little kennel... how did we want to handle it? A couple of towels would do the trick. Then we got another call from the vet. One the tests had already come back... 

Boomer, Relaxing On Four Season Porch

(Still no bath.)

Boomer tested positive for Feline Leukemia. 

We were crushed. 

We quickly start devising plans to make Boomer's life as happy and comfortable as we could.

But, later that night, The Boyfriend talked to the vet and it turns out we misunderstood (?), Boomer doesn't have Feline Leukemia... 

He has Kitty AIDS, or FIV. 

It's caused by a bite. 

Like one to the ear. 

Prognosis: he may live a full and happy life, though any type of infection could be a game changer. And he should not be around other cats, because if he bites them, he could pass on the virus. 

So. We are working on new plans. As we do, The Boyfriend is creating a stronger and stronger bond. Lots of heavy petting, and he keeps encouraging me to get on board. 

But I hang back. I'm afraid. Oh, not of the FIV, but I still don't feel I've earned his trust and he senses that, so he's now a bit afraid of me. 

That changed today. I went over to work out at The Boyfriend's house and afterwards, spent 20 minutes on the sun porch. Armed with crunchy salmon treats and a bag of cat nip, I made my way to corner where Boomer wedges himself anytime I enter the room. I sit down and I make a trail of treats. And a little pile of catnip. 

He's not buying it. So, I work up my courage; I reach over and I pet him on top of his head and rub his eyes and nose. 

Biggest purr I have ever heard. 

He comes out. Eats the treats. Rolls a bit in the catnip, then realizes it's me and back to the corner he goes. I repeat the whole thing three times. The fourth time he retreats, I let him. 

There are more days to come. More periods of 20 minutes. I will keep working with him.

And we're lucky. Boomer's lucky.

We have all the time we need to make this work.

And it will. 

Because good things happen. 

They just do. 

A Spy In The House Of Love

Black Cat - Janet Jackson