Open Hearts, Closed Hearts

 

     The other night at a meeting, I heard a woman talk about the difficulties of being a caregiver (I believe she was a nurse who works with children.) She said her perspective is that, in the face of suffering, she has one fundamental choice: she can protect herself by closing off her heart or she can keep her heart open, do the best she can, and then turn it over to God. I think there's great wisdom in that, and I try to apply it to my own work with ferals.

      Lately a couple of sad situations have come up. The day after Christmas I got a call from a woman who works at a business in A.G. She has been seeing a cat who, from the sound of it, must either have terrible skin cancer or some kind of severe facial wound. From her description, it sounds as though the animal needs to be euthanized as soon as possible. I've been trapping in the area where we think the cat is but haven't had any luck. Then last night it rained so I didn't trap. This morning the sun was coming out, so I went over again and put out a trap, but so far, nothing. All I can do is hope and keep trying.

       There is another tragic situation in Oceano. A friend of mine had a friend who shot himself to death the day after Christmas. As if this weren't horrible enough, he left behind three cats, one of them a special needs cat, in the house that he totally trashed before taking his own life. I went over there with my friend looking for the cats a couple of nights ago. A clean up crew was there. The house was filled with shattered glass, broken furniture, complete chaos--everything reduced to rubble. We glimpsed one cat but were unable to catch it. My friend left two traps that night, but when I returned the next morning, all I found was a possum and a neighbor's cat, both of whom I promptly released, of course.

      Now, a couple of days later, one cat has been found, another cat named Lucille (whose special needs made her virtually impossible to adopt) has been euthanized, and a third--who has a home waiting for it--is still free-roaming. This is a terrible end not just for the individual who killed himself, but for his animal companions, who have no way of understanding or coping with the complete chaos into which their once peaceful lives have been thrown. How terrifying it must have been for those cats when their person was destroying the contents of the house, when the gun fired and then all was terribly silent. All they could do was escape out the broken windows and wander around, trying to find their way back to the home they'd known which now no longer existed.

      In all likelihood, the third cat will remain in the vicinity of its home--it's being provided food and water, of course--and will eventually be rescued. In the meantime, all we can do is the best we can.

       And while this is going on, the usual trapping situations need addressing. I was alerted to a feral colony over in Avila Beach that is being fed and cared for by an animal-loving couple. They cannot afford, however, to have all these cats spay/neutered, so I'm trapping over there. Caught two the first night, then didn't trap because of the rain, but will be back there tonight with a couple more traps. It will take some time to get everyone, but this isn't mating season, so we have some time.

      And things seem to be leveling out at the Mesa. Perhaps the free-ranging dogs that were eating the food out of the feeding stations for so long are being kept home now--I hope! Anyway there was food left at the feeding stations when I checked them yesterday.

      So this is just a little recap on what's been going on with my cat trapping efforts over the holidays. This time of year seems to be particularly painful for many people and that pain filters down--to their companion animals and to feral animals in need of care. At any time, but especially in difficult times, keeping an open heart is a challenge, but I remind myself the alternative is far worse.

A Kitten Named Braveheart

        The first time I saw the little black kitten who lived in the woodpile was late last summer, when I was trying to track down the various members of a litter that had apparently gotten dispersed up on the Mesa. I don't know what happened to Mom--maybe she was killed by a car or a predator, maybe she wandered off. One of her kittens was rescued young and ended up living with my next door neighbor. Another one (I suspect, although I'm not positive) is probably my own Little Dude. A couple more were trapped inside a garage and went to Christine's house to be fostered until they became less feral.

        But this kitten, who had taken refuge in the woodpile next to a high wall dividing two half-acre properties, proved impossible to catch. Not because it wouldn't be trapped (although I did try a couple of times with no luck) but because The Feline Network was swamped with kittens last summer. We literally didn't have a single foster home where this kitten could go if I did catch it. I remember seeing the kitten one afternoon when another volunteer and I were in the area scouting for a likely spot to put feeding stations. We saw the kitten dash into its hiding place among the logs. I remember how my heart sank. How could such a small kitten possibly live on its own without mom?

        Throughout the fall, I took food up to the Mesa kitties two or three times a week, always leaving food and water next to the woodpile, but I thought the kitten had probably died. Sometimes I'd leave a whole bag of food and every single bit would be gone the next day, a sure sign that dogs (which seem to run wild on the Mesa!) or raccoons had eaten it. Then the nights got cold and it rained. I almost gave up leaving food by the woodpile, because I honestly didn't think the kitten could have survived.

        But I kept bringing food whenever I could. A couple of weeks ago I saw a furry black, much larger kitten dive into the woodpile as I approached. It was the same kitten! A neighbor told me that she'd heard an owl crying and circling over the woodpile--not surprising, since kittens and young cats often fall prey to owls. I decided I had to trap this little one and get it out of that woodpile as soon as possible.

       I called the wonderful woman who runs a refuge for feral cats in North County and, with my fingers crossed, asked if she had room for one more. She did! That was the first step.

       Next I put out two traps by the woodpile Monday night. I said a prayer: Please God let this little one enter the trap. The next day at 6 a.m. I was out there with my flashlight checking the traps. The first one had been cleaned out but wasn't sprung. The second one held a furry black five-month old kitten!

       I rejoiced! I took the cat to the Feline Network vet, where I soon learned it was a female and negative for feline leukemia ( a prerequisite for acceptance at the refuge.) That afternoon I rendez-vous'd with T.C., the woman who runs the refuge, up in Atascadero. T.C. likes all her kitties to have names. I told her this gal's name was Braveheart, because she had earned it. I can't imagine how a tiny kitten survived for months living alone in a woodpile, with limited food supply, cold and rain, and animal predators, but she did it!

       Now a resident of the feral refuge, little Braveheart will live out her days with plenty of food, warm igloos filled with straw for shelter, and a protected environment with other cats like herself. Hopefully, in time, she will make a friend or two and realizethat life has gotten inexplicably better.

       When I look at the pictures that I took of Braveheart  when she was in the carrier, I can see how afraid she was. At that moment, if her mind worked like a human mind, I'm sure she'd have given anything in the world to be back in the 'safety' of her familiar woodpile, however dark, cold, lonely, and dangerous it might have been. She had no way to imagine the incomparably better life that she was headed toward and all the many people who had worked together to make it possible. Our human lives are so much like that, I think. So often we desperately fear and resist change, all the while that unseen forces may be at work on our behalf.

Re: Little Dude's Medical Crisis

       As some of youknow, The Little Dude is a feral kitty rescued from the Mesa area, in Arroyo Grande, CA, in late August of this year. Destined at first for the Adopt-a-Pet, I came to realize he was definitely a part of my family and nixed the idea of any adoptions a few months ago--Little Dude had found his forever home here in Pismo Beach!

        I always knew the Dude was an unusual, seemingly fragile kitten. He had bouts of hobbling around as though unable to use his hind legs well. He never jumped up onto anything, but used (and continues to use) pet stairs that my neighbor generously gave me to access the bed and the sofa. Dr. Conn's first guess was that he might have something called Kelesi Virus, which causes pain in the back legs but generally is outgrown within a short time when it appears in kittens. But Little Dude's symptoms have gotten no better, so we made another trip to Cat and Exotic Care on Monday, this time to begin extensive testing, including blood work, x-rays, testing of the joint fluid, and testing for FIV and Feline Leukemia.

      The results, though as yet incomplete, are not promising. On the good side, the Dude is negative for both FIV and FeLeuk and, somewhat to Dr. Conn's surprise, there is nothing really wrong with his joints. They appear intact. But he shows three healed fractures in his back and front legs that indicate some kind of congenital bone disease--something perhaps akin to osteoporosis. He's Calcium deficient--no surprise there given his bones--and there's a good possibility his thyroid may not be functioning properly. Some of the test results have not yet come in and I'm awaiting further information.

       It's discouraging to say the least.

       As far as having a kitten with a strange, undiagnosable medical condition, this is the second time it's happened to me, which as Carla at Cat and Exotic said this morning is "like getting struck twice by lightning."

       About two and a half years ago, I was incredibly blessed when Sister Bug, a tiny feral kitten whom I fostered along with her brother and sister, miraculously recovered from what had appeared to be a very serious health threat. Basically, she was unable to poop and had to be rushed to the emergency vet a couple of times to have her system cleared out. At one point, Sister Bug was on three different kinds of meds twice a day just to keep everything moving along. And even after all kinds of tests, there was no clear indication of what was wrong with her!

       Then, almost overnight, Sister Bug 'outgrew' her problem and has been a perfectly normal, healthy cat ever since. I was praying the same would happen with the Dude, that his difficulties would turn out to be Kelesi Virus or something else he'd outgrow. This time it doesn't look like that's going to be the case.

       What it comes down to, I guess, is all I can do is the best I can. I'll do everything I can to get the Little Dude the best health care, to remain comfortable and content, and make sure however much time he is allotted on this planet, that it's as pleasant for him as it can possible be. Beyond that, it's up to God.

       Knowing how fragile he is, I'm more grateful than ever that Little Dude is part of my feline family. This is a very tranquil, quiet household where the older cats are generally tolerant and laid back--when Little Dude shoves his little head into a food bowl where someone else is eating, I'm always amazed that the other cat invariably backs off without so much as a hiss. They are touchingly tolerant of his tendency to be obnoxious around eating.

      So that's it for now. I will provide more updates on the Dude's health situation later on.

 

       And on a very positive note, this morning was the first time ever that, when I visited my Mesa feeding stations, there was still plenty of food in each one. I saw the black kitten that lives in the woodpile scamper away--he/she is alive and well, but I need to start trapping for him soon. Like next week. A resident told me there was an owl cruising around in the area of the woodpile the night before. I feel so sorry for this little guy. What must it be like to be growing up all alone, living in a woodpile for shelter on these cold nights. But today, when I was there, he had food, water, and an abundance of warm sunshine, so that is reason to celebrate!

A Good Day For Goldilocks

       More good news from the cat front!  About three weeks ago, I trapped a little orange female, about four months old, up at the Mesa. Because she didn't seem completely feral, I tried to find a foster home for her among the Feline Network volunteers. When I couldn't find anyone, I set her up in the spare bathroom here at my house. Within a very short time, she was sitting on my lap, purring, and lapping up the KMR (kitten milk replacement) that I gave her as a special treat.

        But there was still the problem of what to do with her. Nobody had room in the foster homes and I'm going away over the Thanksgiving holiday. My wonderful petsitter, Anna Stuart, would be coming in twice a day, but that still didn't seem like enough attention for a cat only just getting used to dealing with humans.

        Then Anna called and said she'd found the little girl, whom I've been calling Goldilocks, a home. A wonderful, animal-loving woman had been looking for an orange female--and solid orange girls are hard to find. Most orange cats are actually male. Today was the Big Day for Goldilocks. Anna came and took her away in a carrier, along with a toy mouse and a can of KMR to remind her of her foster home. I know she will do great in her new situation as she wants nothing more than to sit in her person's lap all day and that is what Anna says this lady is looking for.

       I wish Goldilocks could understand how lucky she is. The Mesa is not a good place for cats during the best of times, and we've just come through a weekend of torrential rain and cold. In all likelihood, Goldilocks will have a long, happy life in a home where she is valued and loved. I wish all animals everywhere could have homes like that, but it still makes my heart sing to know that Goldilocks has found hers.

Re: Good News For One Feral

 

     So often rescue work with animals is filled with sad situations, so I rejoice when something goes unequivocally right!

      For literally months now, I have been trying to trap a small calico female who is the litter mate to two orange kittens I trapped ages ago. (They are semi-tame and are living with Christine, the founder of Feline Network). But this calico female always eluded me and, in the meantime, she has grown to the age where before long she'll be having kittens and making a bad situation much worse. Not only that, but this cat makes her hideway in an opening at the back of a small house in AG. The opening leads to

an area of plumbing fixtures of some type and an old bathtub, where she takes refuge. The owner of the house is adamant about not wanting the cat in that space. As soon as I trap her, the plan has been that I am to tell the homeowner and he will board up the entrance to the only shelter this little cat has ever known.

     So all this time that I've been trying to trap her, I've also been agonizing about what am I going to do with her. Normal procedure would have me return her to where I got her, but at that point she would have lost her 'home' and the property owner is not interested in feeding her. So I admit that, while I've continued to trap there, I've not been too unhappy when I continue to fail to catch the cat--since I leave out food for her and she has her makeshift shelter.

     Late last week, though, through a series of coincidences, I made contact with a woman who runs a feral cat sanctuary north of Atascadero. She was willing to take some semi-feral cats from Feline Network, but the person fostering the cats in question changed her mind for various reasons and that deal fell through. Then this morning--after so many attempts--I caught the calico! Immediately  I called the wonderful woman who runs the feral habitat. I will be meeting her up in Santa Marguerita this afternoon with the calico cat, now spayed with her shots, in a carrier to go to her new home at the habitat. It is a large, enclosed area where ferals live out their lives in peace. She will have ample shelter, food, and safety from predators--three options totally unavailable to her in her former circumstances.
      I am so grateful to the Universe for making this possible, for the timing that had the little cat walk into the trap at the one moment  when a new opportunity had actually opened up for her future. Thank God, she will never go hungry and she will have plenty of warm, hay-filled enclosures in which to cuddle with other cats. She will never have kittens, and predators, human or animal, will not bother her. At the moment, as she sits in the carrier on my porch recovering from her spaying procedure, I am sure she does not consider herself fortunate and would love nothing better than to go back to the only home she has ever known. If only she knew the bigger picture!

      I wonder how often I--how often all of us--are like the little cat, unaware of the bigger picture and oblivious to our incredible good fortune!