If I hadn’t been dealing with sick kittens all week, I would have tried to come up with a tease for today’s post. I am announcing an adoption today. It’s one I’ve known about for quite a while, but it only recently came all the way together. Let me take you back to the ONE hint I gave a couple of months ago.
A friend of Winnie’s Wish (Shirley) was in a neighboring town for a reunion. She came out to my place to see the cathouse and the Winnie’s Wish Walkway and to bring a really nice care package. You can read that post here. Now to the hint. In that post, underneath the picture of Shirley’s goodies I wrote this:
Shirley, it was SO nice to meet you and your dad. I can’t thank you enough for your gifts to Winnie’s Wish.
Shirley has ANOTHER gift for Winnie’s Wish. As soon as I know more about that gift, I will share it on the blog.
While Shirley was visiting, she completely shocked me by telling me that she had been watching a certain Winnie’s Wish kitty and was considering adoption. She asked if this kitty was still here and she wanted to meet her. Shirley told me that this particular cat was a combination of her two favorite types of kitties. Are you trying to guess? Shirley and this kitty met, and there was definitely a connection. As is so often the case, it is probably true that Shirley and this Winnie’s Wisher were meant to end up with each other.
Now, the problem was that Shirley was not in a position to take her chosen one back home with her on that trip. We talked about possibilities. I explained that we could put it on the blog and see what we could do about trying to set up a transport. Also – Shirley has volunteered with a particular transport operation and thought there might be a chance to work part of the trip out through them. Shirley and I stayed in touch. At some point I received a text from her that there was a chance she would be traveling to Nashville, TN at the end of the summer to visit family. She wondered if we might work it out to meet when she was so much closer while in Nashville. I told her absolutely we could meet halfway.
SO . . . THIS SUNDAY, I will get up early and head in the direction of Nashville. Shirley will get up and head in my direction. We will meet halfway, and I will turn over Shirley’s chosen one to her. Which Winnie’s Wisher is it?
Kippie was very unhappy in the cathouse. She has been living in my kennel office with Quinn, Isis, and Goldie where she has been much happier. Since Shirley and Kippie met, I've been excited about Kippie's future. It has taken us a while to work out the transport details, but this Labor Day weekend another Winnie’s Wisher will be on the way to a REAL home. Shirley and I will meet halfway on Sunday. It will be Kippie’s first day of The Good Life.
I’ll have kitten health updates at the end of this post.
Last Tuesday I posted about Only for the first time. I said how sorry I felt for him since he had no mom (which he clearly wanted) and he had no siblings (which made me worry that he was lonely). ON THAT VERY AFTERNOON, Older Daughter texted me – Hey Mom. You know how you’ve been saying you wish Only had a kitten about his size to snuggle with? Well, I think I have one. She’s a little bigger than him but not much. I responded with this – I know you guys aren’t taking any kittens in right now unless they come in with some big problem. What’s wrong with this one? Older Daughter explained that the local animal control officer was called to a scene where a mom cat AND her kittens were all dead – except for this one. She was only about four or five weeks old AND her left front paw was badly swollen. She could not use it at all. OK – I said – bring her on. And suddenly – there were two. Only wasn’t an only anymore because the new addition made two. Meet Twosie.
The sad baby with the swollen paw when she first came to me.
Only and Twosie were not immediately friends. Only was beginning to decline a little at that time. He didn’t feel great. And Twosie couldn’t run or play because the swollen paw hurt and she wouldn’t put it down. Twosie fussed at Only, and Only fussed at me. The weekend proved challenging. Twosie didn’t know how to eat solid food any better than Only did. So I was syringe feeding both on the first evening. The next day I was pleased to find that Twosie wanted to eat kitten canned food and softened Kitten Chow. Twosie came with an antibiotic, and over the weekend she started to improve. She ate well, slept well, and started to play as the swollen paw began to shrink. Only was becoming more fussy, eating less and sleeping less. By the first of this week, as I reported, Only was not a strong healthy kitten. Twosie had become exactly that. Then JUST YESTERDAY after I posted and started the rounds before leaving to take Husband to some appointments, I found Twosie crying and holding that poor little paw up again. By late last night, Twosie had a swollen paw, a mild fever, and NO appetite. SO . . . my daughters have taken Twosie with them today to the vet. Geez. If I ever get Only and Twosie well at the same time, I believe they might be really good company for each other.
The update on Only is that he is eating more than when I posted my concerns about him, but not well enough for me to feel good about it. I will hear from my daughters at some point today after Twosie has been seen by the vet; I’m hoping for a new antibiotic and some relief for this sweet little girl. And the report on Kizzie is that his fever is only low-grade for the past 36 hours but he has almost zero appetite. I have tried lots of different things to entice him to eat. Imagine what relief I will feel if all three of these sweet babies come all the way around to full robust health! Keep your fingers crossed.
Tomorrow I will be announcing The Best Kind of News . . .
It's just after 5:00am. Up extra early to get Husband to some doctor appointments this morning. I haven't checked on Only or Kizzie yet. Getting this post published to my blog and then off to check on everyone. I don't yet know what today brings.
Only was only three weeks old when he came to me. He could not eat on his own. I started syringe feeding him and to be honest, he never really got it. I’ve syringe fed many many kittens over the years. Some do better than others. I knew with Only that if I could keep him nourished for a couple of weeks, he would eventually be able to handle canned kitten food or softened Kitten Chow. What happened was that no matter how many feedings I administered daily, Only just wasn’t getting enough. I tried the softened dry food and the canned food off and on, hoping he would be early to turn to this type of food and would begin to get enough. But he didn’t. Slowly, he began to turn away from formula. Getting even 2 ccs in him at a time became a struggle. Also – he wasn’t growing. I knew this could be because he was not consuming enough OR it could be Failure to Thrive.
Finally, last Friday, my daughters took Only to the vet to see if there was anything I might be missing. But no. Just keep feeding. Hope he doesn’t have Failure to Thrive. Hope he would survive long enough to get through this phase and maybe he would begin to grow. I was extremely worried that I might end up watching Only fade and die.
Then, on Sunday evening, suddenly Only took a full syringe of formula almost without a breath. He did not fight me or turn away. I quickly filled the syringe again. He consumed it all. A third – YES!! That was a total of NINE ccs before he quit. Of course, I did not dare believe this was it. I did not dare believe we had turned the corner and now all would be well. But on Monday morning (yesterday), the exact same thing happened – NINE ccs. Not so good throughout the day yesterday, and not so good last night. But he did try some “big boy” food and managed to eat a bite or two. I don't know how he will do today; I’m not going to say we have turned the corner yet, but there is sporadic improvement. I’ll take it.
I mentioned yesterday that Kizzie’s fever-reducing medication would wear off at noon on Monday (yesterday). Even before noon, his fever was on the way up. And he had not eaten over night or at all during the morning yesterday. At one point yesterday afternoon, his temperature registered at 103.8. I was disappointed that it was up, but worse than that I was afraid we would end up over 106 again. I had no more fever-reducing medication. I had to hope this fever would moderate on its own. Also – even though Dr. O thought this was more likely viral than bacterial, I started the antibiotic he sent home with me. Late last night when I checked on Kizzie, none of his food had been touched. I was so afraid to take his temperature. But I did. And when that thermometer read 102.8 I actually did a happy dance right there in the Kitten Room. We are NOT out of the woods. He is far from OK at this point, but this is improvement. Again – I don’t dare believe we have arrived. As I said above, things can turn bad with a kitten in a heartbeat. And I have not yet checked on him this morning.
If these two babies continue to improve, tomorrow I will introduce you to the new foster kitten who came just when needed, as if she was ordered and delivered.
Keep sending those wonderful well wishes and purrayers for Only and especially for Kizzie (who is definitely not yet out of the woods).
It’s been a busy weekend – definitely not all good. I hope the two things I’m the most worried about will turn around and become triumphs. I’m anxious to share some other news with you. There’s been another addition here (a new foster kitten). I’d like to tell you about her and share the extra nice thing about this one. Also there is a rescue “in the works” right now that I want to bring you in on. In addition, this week I will announce one of those most wonderful things. But at this point I’m consumed with the decline of my brand new Kismet (Kizzie). In addition, Only went downhill starting last Thursday. I want to ask for your thoughts and purrayers for both. I saw the tiniest bit of improvement in Only last night and this morning. But Kizzie may in a battle for his life.
Each morning it takes me about three hours to actually “lay eyes” on every animal on this property. There are my own dogs and cats. Foster kittens in the downstairs bathroom. Feral kittens in an upstairs bedroom. Boarded dogs and foster dogs at the kennel. Cats in the kennel office and kittens in the Kitten Room. And all of the cats in the cathouse. Unfortunately, on Saturday morning, I ended up in the kennel office and the Kitten Room last of all. And when I walked into the Kitten Room, I saw Kizzie lying on his side in the bed I’ve never seen him use. Normally, he hides behind a very small piece of cat furniture in his cage. I ran over and he didn’t lift his head. I reached in and he felt hot. He was limp. I ran for my thermometer and started texting Dr. O at the same time. I checked my watch. Ten thirty. On Saturdays the clinic closes at noon. After that I would end up with whoever was on call AND I would have to drive to the other clinic which is farther away. It would also mean a much higher bill because it would be considered an emergency hours visit. But at this point, that was the least of my concerns. I just knew I needed to head towards the clinic as fast as I possibly could. And when I took Kizzie’s temperature I nearly passed out. 106.5 I received a text from Dr. O that he WAS in the office that day. Called the receptionist, rattled off the fever reading, and basically said I was headed that way. She said to come right on. Loaded up Kizzie and got to the clinic at eleven fifteen.
Dr. O doesn’t know what is wrong with Kizzie. The extremely high temperature appears to be the only symptom. Kizzie received his first vaccination on Thursday evening. Dr. O said that it is common to have low-grade fever with a vac, but that on occasion you can see an abnormally high temp as a result. The other thing he said was that sometimes leukemia is in the animal just lying there and the physiological stress of the vaccination can cause it to sort of explode into activity. There are also ultimately fatal conditions that are unlikely, but still possible, especially in a kitten that spent the first months of his life straying and struggling to survive. The only other possibility would be some type of viral or bacterial infection that would eventually break with other symptoms. But there was no way to know at this point. It would be a wait-and-see situation. He gave an injection to bring the fever down. I went home with another dose of fever reducer to give at noon on Sunday. Dr. O said he hoped the injection would be the only thing needed and this would end up being viral and Kizzie would recover. But if on Sunday at noon there was still raging fever, to give the fever-reducing medication. By Monday at noon we would know if the fever would begin to dissipate on its own.
I gave the medication at noon yesterday. It will hold the fever down until around noon today. And then we’ll see if the fever starts up again.
Only (my tiny foster kitten in the video) has had me worried for days now. Then Kizzie went down SO hard and fast on Saturday that it has left me reeling. In the midst of these worries, Winnie’s Wish received two deliveries. The timing couldn’t have been better. Two bright spots in a rough weekend.
SO thrilled to get this kitty litter. Always a need but especially now with so many "extras."
Sandy – THANK YOU.
This gift is in memory of Alyssa's beloved cat - Tigger. She lost him to lymphoma. He was 16 years old.
Gorgeous Tigger. Alyssa told me in an email - "Those 16 years were wonderful, I just wasn't ready to let him go."
Alyssa - THANK YOU.
Please keep Kizzie in your thoughts. I will know by this afternoon when the medication wears off if the fever is going to come raging back. I REALLY need for this little one-eyed bobtail baby to recover and live. He needs a shot at The Good Life. (No new pictures of him; this is from the day of his rescue.)
Last week, on Wednesday, there was an “occurrence” here that was initially horrifying. My dogs had let me know that something was happening in the area between my house and the “shelter area.” I was creeping down the gravel walkway trying to discover if a rabbit or some other little creature was in the blackberry bushes. What I discovered instead was one of my Winnie’s Wishers sitting underneath the front step to the cathouse. I was frozen there staring at this tabby face with my mind racing. Only a few seconds went by, but it was plenty of time for me to flash through the pictures of full-on calamity. If one cat was out, they could all be out. I went nearly dizzy thinking about all of these Winnie’s Wishers having scattered into the dense West Woods.
Frozen there, I stared at the cat under the step. It’s an enclosed wooden step, so quite dark under there even though it was a bright sunny day. The face was looking up at me but was hard to see as my eyes tried to adjust to the dark area.
My brain finally told me to squat down and call to whoever this was. Even though a lot of my Winnie’s Wishers are easily spooked, I had to hope this one would just come to me. The barking of the dogs had to be scaring him/her. I was emerging from the shock and beginning to devise a plan while trying to identify which of my tabbies this was. I bent down and said my first Kitty, Kitty. Just in the moment when I was questioning the identity of this hard-to-see-under-the-dark-step cat, it turned to bolt away from me. And there was the second wave of shock. NO TAIL. Wait. WHAT?! There are no tabby bobtail Winnie’s Wishers. WHO WAS THIS?!
Now a new flood of thoughts poured all over me. There was no tail. This was NOT a Winnie’s Wisher. Thoughts were competing with each other. So I haven’t lost a cathouse full of kitties, long gone into the deep West Woods. Relief. But here’s a cat. SERIOUSLY??? Under the front step of my CATHOUSE??? What are the chances that a cat would COME TO THE FRONT DOOR OF MY WINNIE’S WISH SHELTER?!? This was what the dogs saw. They certainly aren’t used to seeing a cat scooting around outside. Bobtail. Crazy. Think.
I needed to set the trap. It was all the way at my house. I took off running, grabbed the trap and some canned food and frantically started trying to figure out where to set it. Well, I’ll just set it here on the WW Walkway. Yeah. Right here facing the step. Then I raced into the kennel and out the side door. I could creep around to the back side of the kennel. There was a space within the perimeter fence where I could see under the cathouse. I shot around there and dropped to my stomach on the rocky ground. Darn. I couldn’t see the trap from this angle after all. I could see the entire area under the cathouse but not past that step to the trap. But then, just as my eyes adjusted to the darkness under the cathouse, I thought I saw fur. Crawling slowly under that building, as low to the ground as it could get, was a skinny tabby bobtail kitten! It was an older kitten, probably three or four months old. I didn’t breathe. My heart was pounding so loudly that I feared I was sending vibrations through the ground. Turn around little guy. Go towards the trap. Of course, I didn’t say that out loud. I held my body stone still, lying there in the rocks, trying to will that kitty back in the direction of my trap. Instead, it kept creeping until it got to the edge of its cover and then it shot like a bullet across the grass and straight into the West Woods.
I tried not to feel defeated. I jumped up, back around the kennel and over to the trap. Picked it up and as quietly and softly as I could – set the trap in a small mowed area right at the edge of the woods. Now all I could do was wait and hope.
I set the trap just on the other side of that patch of sunlight.
All morning I checked that trap. Trying to convince myself that “a watched pot never boils”, I took myself to my house and sat at my desk to do some paperwork. I kept drifting back to that moment when I realized this was a stray cat. When I was running to the house for my trap, every inch of skin on my body “goose-bumped”. Seriously?! A stray bobtail kitten sitting under the front step to the cathouse?! Over the years there had been numerous rescues that were strange and unusual to the point of HAVING to accept that they were meant to be. But this . . . This HAD to be the most unbelievable of all. I live in the middle of nowhere. There are dogs in my yard, dogs in the kennel – enough barking to keep any cat from entering such territory. There had been a couple of cats show up in our driveway. But that is quite a distance from any dog area, AND they came late at night when all was quiet. Both were adult intact males, straying through no doubt while looking for unspayed females. The closest thing to this cathouse event was when Evers was just suddenly in my yard – just lying there, immobilized, like he’d been dropped there from above. But now I had a skinny older kitten SITTING UNDER THE CATHOUSE STEP. Unbelievable.
I had to get this kitten. I had no idea how it had managed to survive this long on its own. I couldn’t imagine where it had come from but it must have been straying over a long distance. It didn’t matter that I am over my maximum number in the cathouse. If there was EVER a cat who was meant to be here, it was this one! No way would I look Fate in the eye and suggest that there had been some kind of mistake. This baby crouched at the front door of Help.
I made myself eat lunch before going back to check the trap again. I strained to see into that trap as I approached the heavily shaded area next to the West Woods. And there it was. I had it. I could feel the relief. I raised an imaginary glass in a toast of gratitude. And then I walked over to meet the newest Winnie’s Wisher.
It was immediately noticeable that something was wrong with his right eye. (He is blind in that eye, but there was also a serious ulcer on the eyeball, now being treated with prescription eye drops.) I set him up in a cage in the kitten room. He did a lot of hissing and would not let me touch him. When I stepped away, the first thing he did was start eating. Imagine a three or four month old baby - skinny, alone, with a serious eye injury - trying to survive on his own. How grateful I am to have him.
His name is Kismet. That is the word I didn’t want to mention yesterday because it would have given away the ending of the story. Kismet means fate or fortune. No doubt this little Kizzie was meant to be here.
Unbelievable is the word I have been using to describe the story I am about to tell. There is another word that fits this event even better – but if I told you that word right now, it would ruin part of the story. So let me stick with “unbelievable” for a minute. Over the years there have been some things I’ve written about on this blog that would have been hard for me to believe if I hadn’t experienced them personally. In fact, during the telling of a couple of these stories I’ve wondered if there might be folks out there who said to themselves – “Seriously? Does she really think we believe that?” I told the stories anyway because I write about what happens in my life. The stories are always true. They are always my personal experiences. One year there was the pumpkin that sat on my front deck and slowly revealed a face. That was easy to prove – I had the picture! Then there was the story of Silly Whim (from my book) that was hard for me to believe even though I was there. And about a year ago, there was the story of my Evergreen (Evers) who ended up in my yard like he’d been delivered there by angels. (three-part story starts here)
jack-o-lantern carves itself
Evers, on the day of his rescue
Well, last Wednesday produced this type of event. Here’s how my day started.
The cathouse is about 300 feet from the back door of my house. Just outside that door is the fenced-in area for my own dogs. I let them out each morning and head to the kennel. I was actually washing doggie dishes at the kennel when I heard my Miracle barking a bark I only hear when something is up. I went out the side door of my kennel and looked towards the house and Miracle. She was staring towards the “shelter area” which is where Muffin and Mandy stay during part of each day. There is a line of blackberry bushes between where Miracle is and the “shelter area.” Rabbits dart in and out underneath those bushes all summer long. I guessed she was watching a rabbit but I knew she’d seen plenty of those many other times without becoming this excited. I went back to washing dishes. But her bark became frantic. So I stepped out the front door of the kennel this time and looked towards the blackberry bushes and beyond that to Muffin and Mandy. Muffin and Mandy were staring back in the direction of Miracle. So. There must be something of interest between Miracle and Muffin & Mandy.
I decided to walk in the direction of the bushes to see what could have three of my dogs this concerned. There is a gravel walkway from the front door of the kennel straight to the “shelter area.” Walking away from the kennel on this path, the blackberry bushes are on the right and the cathouse is on the left. To go into the cathouse you step off the gravel path and onto the Winnie’s Wish brick Walkway which you are all familiar with.
I was walking very slowly and quietly down the gravel path hoping to see whatever might be in those bushes that had my dogs on point. I knew it surely must be a rabbit, but why so much concern today as opposed to any other day. Maybe it was a snake. Unlikely since Miracle was the most concerned and she was too far away to see a snake. Maybe I had a possum or a skunk or something other than a rabbit. I was practically tip-toeing down the gravel path, slowly approaching the blackberry bushes. As I ever so slowly got closer and closer, I was scanning the base of the bushes for anything unusual. Miracle was still barking, frantically, from behind me. Muffin and Mandy had stopped moving and were staring directly at me now, clearly hoping I would do something about whatever it was they had experienced.
But there was nothing. Maybe whatever it was had already moved on. There is a dense woods that meets our property on the west side. In fact, this woods begins only a few feet from the back side of the kennel and cathouse. We call it the West Woods and always have. When the girls were little, we’d take Winter walks in the West Woods. Years ago, we braved the Springtime ticks and snakes to go mushroom hunting in these woods a few times. In the Summer these West Woods are so thick that you can’t see into them at all. I know that throughout the year, these woods provide entertainment for the kennel dogs and the cathouse cats. The dog runs face these woods. And both of the enclosed cathouse decks face west as well. Birds and squirrels and rabbits, along with deer and opposums and skunks – plenty to watch no matter the season. But I digress . . .
Just as I was thinking that whatever caused this disturbance must be long gone by now, my peripheral vision caught something to my left. It felt like my head turned toward the cathouse in slow motion. And suddenly I was staring at one of my Winnie’s Wishers – NOT in the cathouse. OUTSIDE! Looking up at me from under the step at the front door was a tabby face. My mind was screaming too many things at once – Who is this? tabby, let me think. Toast, Slate, Sienna. Don’t move too quickly. How many more are out? What happened? Did they push a fan out of a window and tear through the window screen? Have I lost them all? The West Woods! I’ll NEVER get them back. Stop. Think. Try to coax this one towards you. Don’t lunge. Don’t lose this one . . .
His name is Only. Because that’s the word that best defines my relationship with him. He is an Only – no mom, no littermates. In one week he and I have bonded so completely that he believes I am his mom AND his siblings, and he is definitely my baby.
This tiny kitten came into the shelter where my daughters work on Wednesday of last week. He was about three weeks old and obviously would not have survived on his own. By Wednesday night he was with me, and it feels like I’ve spent about a month with him already. Unable to eat on his own, I have been syringe feeding him. He will only take 3 – 6 ccs at a time and absolutely refuses more than that. This means there have been multiple feedings every day; thus the extended time we are spending together.
From the beginning I hated it that there wasn’t a sibling. A tiny baby like Only needs a furry family member to cuddle with and, eventually, to learn to play with. But worst of all, Only desperately wanted a momma to nurse on. Syringe feeding is taking care of the basic nutritional need, but OH how this baby has wanted to nurse. When he gets sleepy he looks everywhere for a mom to nurse on and when he never finds one he gets very fussy. Of course, this only endears him to me even more. In the last couple of days, he has been trying to play – with my hand. It appears that when my hand does certain things, Only believes it is a friend or sibling or something. I’ve watched plenty of tiny kittens first learning to play with their littermates. This is exactly what I’m observing in Only. He is cute beyond words.
All of you know how techno-ignorant I am. But I was determined to get a video of Only during his “fussy phase” when he gets sleepy. Well, Friends, I did it. That does not necessarily mean I can get that video embedded into this blog post for you to see. But I’m going to give it a shot. Before that, here are some still photos of this Only baby. Enjoy!
Now here will be my attempt to embed the video of a fussy little sleepy Only. (Cross your fingers that it works.)
Little Only will be with me until he is big enough to return to the shelter. Hopefully, some wonderful person will adopt him while he's still young.
Last Wednesday my day started off with a BIG scare that quickly became incredible. I'll start that story tomorrow. See you then.
Last Wednesday was an unusual day to say the least. It was a day suddenly filled with fosters. But also, something happened here that hit me as, well - unbelievable is the word that comes to mind. There have been other “unbelievable” things occur over the years. This one ranks right up there in the top five for sure! But you don’t really think I would tell that story on a MONDAY, do you? What would be the fun in that? So let me introduce a couple of new foster kittens first. I assure you I will tell my “unbelievable” story THIS week.
Today I’d like to introduce you to a kitten who is wonderful and brave and recovering nicely now. His injury was one I’d never seen before. The poor dear . . . you will want to feel sorry for this little guy, but he is bursting with personality – so much so that all you can do once you get to know him is smile.
This baby was brought in to the shelter where my daughters work. You’ve heard me say it over and over – there is not one extra spot anywhere for another cat or kitten. They have to turn away people with cats and kittens on a daily basis. But they simply cannot turn away an animal who is clearly not going to survive. This kitten was brought in by someone who said – There’s something wrong with its mouth, like I think its jaw must be broken or something. Older Daughter examined and the jaw was not broken. But the entire front of the lower jaw was exposed. This exposed area was also massively infected. Older Daughter got the kitten set up in a quarantine cage and tested to see if he could eat or drink. He seemed to be starving, nearly inhaling the small amount of canned food. She didn’t see him drink but he had no signs of dehydration. The following day he went to the vet.
The vet said he had seen this in a dog once. Apparently, at some point, the lower lip was torn away from the gum. The kitten continued to grow but the lower lip was unable to grow along with the jaw and gum. The lower lip is now way too far down, leaving the gum and lower front jaw entirely exposed. Whatever he had been eating had packed in and around the teeth and the entire area was infected. He was given antibiotic but the vet was pessimistic about any way to “repair” this problem. He can live this way without any life-threatening issues, but his mouth will dry out and his breath will be bad for the rest of his life. We’ll have to hope that some wonderful person will adopt this guy and put up with his minor problems. My daughters both said it, and now I can join them – You could not ask for a better personality. WHAT a kitten! Full of life and seems to enjoy everything. He practically never stops making muffins. And I believe he would spend 24 hours a day rotating through three activities over and over and over – he loves his dry kitten chow, he loves to play, and he loves to be held and petted.
His name is Joker. Take a look at this fantastic little kitten.
Drinking without any real problem
Even in the air, he's makin' muffins.
There's that poor mouth. (notice the muffins that are still being made)
Last Thursday I highlighted Sienna because she is definitely (finally) ready for a home of her own. A few weeks ago, I wrote about how Sienna and Snowflake were two cats, close in age, who had remained feral despite the YEAR they have been here. But recently, at almost the same time, both cats showed signs of taming. And then, all of a sudden, I had two formerly feral Winnie’s Wishers ready to move to the “adoptables” list.
Snowflake now comes to me for attention. Like Sienna, she follows me around. I pet her. She rubs on my legs. And (unlike Sienna), she talks. And talks. And talks. And talks. Yep, Snowflake is a talker – the MAIN talker in the cathouse at this point in time. Snowflake, like Sienna and most other cats who start off feral, will require a patient home. In a new environment, Snowflake will probably regress for a while. But I always hope that someone out there is willing to give a forever home to a kitty who won’t necessarily be “easy.”
Also – you might remember that Snowflake has had a runny eye since the moment I took her in. I have three cats in the cathouse who have problem eyes. My vets have given their opinions about these three and their eyes. With Traci Mae, it’s both eyes. We do believe that Traci Mae has allergies (maybe even food allergies), and we know she is stressed a great deal of the time. Tibby Bean came to me as a kitten (years ago) and already had her bad eye then. This is the same situation we have with Snowflake. Apparently, Tibby Bean and Snowflake are cats who were unfortunate enough as young kittens to sustain some type of eye injury. Treatment with ointments and drops provide only limited (and very temporary) change. It looks like this is something each of these kitties will have to deal with for her lifetime.
Now here is your Snowflake in August. Please share.
This sweet Snowflake needs a forever home of her own.
Let me leave you with this. Yesterday turned out to be QUITE a day. Besides ending up with two new foster kittens (for two different reasons), a VERY VERY VERY strange thing happened. Let’s just say it makes for a VERY interesting story. Have a great weekend. See you next week.