Posts Tagged ‘cats’

Toes, Tails, and Testicles

Friday, July 8th, 2011

I admit it; I failed the first test of any foster parent – I fell in love with my foster felines. They are such innocent, loving, inquisitive young beings, so consistently delighted with everything they encounter. While their affection may not be as sycophantic as a puppy, they have their ways. From loud purring every time they greet someone to playful antics over things as mundane as a cardboard box or a piece of string, these two are endearing. I finally surrendered to them and their tomcat ways. I have become putty in their paws.

Declawed and De-tailed

Because they have been declawed, their ability to function in the world has been seriously truncated. Fortunately, they seem to have healed quite well and leap with all the enthusiasm they can muster to spring on top shelves and cabinets, on refrigerators and tables. Without claws, though, they have no room for second chances and no way to defend themselves should a challenger surface. They say being declawed is the human equivalent to having each finger amputated at the first joint. Imagine doing that to a human child, just so they won’t leave marks on the furniture. Declawing a cat is an invasive procedure to make life easier for humans, but it doesn’t do much to enhance the lives of cats.

As if that wasn’t insult enough, they also have no tails.  Manx cats have a spinal deformity that prevents the development of a tail. One of the fosters is completely tailless and the other has a half tail, commonly called a stubtail.  A relative who has worked at a veterinary clinic mentioned that the former guardians may have had their tails cut; some people do that. Our resident female feline uses her tail quite effectively – I can tell pretty instantaneously when she is perturbed, for that amazing appendage will begin making a hard-to-miss statement as it swishes. Not happy. Definitely. Not happy.

Invasive Intervention for Animal Control

It is essential that animals be shorn of their ability to procreate, with millions of animals losing their fight for life each year due to our human inability or unwillingness to care for and feed them all. When only a few months old, these boys were forever separated from their testicles, too. Snip, snip, snip – we humans do what we will – then abandon them to their fate. Our local Texas SPCA works mostly with saving animals relinquished by their owners. They do an admirable job of advertising them online and on television, and find homes for nearly all of them. I used to help advertise their animals and was always shocked at the reasons for their abandonment: lost jobs, ended marriages, but also excuses like: too busy, too many animals, moving to a new location, can’t be bothered.

Loving and Letting Go

The one last thing these brothers now have is each other and their shared experiences in life. Even that, though, may be taken from them. Once they enter the rescue group’s program, they must accept whatever homing options find them. With so many animals dying, these beggars may not be choosers. Humans make the rules, and we do not play fair. As much as I have tried to protect these two, I know I have to let go and hope they find a loving forever home. I hope they will be two of the lucky ones that won’t re-enter the system at a later date. Just by being accepted into the rescue group, they at least have that – if the new guardians ever need to relinquish them, they will go back into the rescue group’s program and not enter a kill shelter. I know that they are, therefore, much more fortunate than the average feline these days, with over 60% of shelter felines losing their chance at life. Loving and letting go is part of being a foster guardian. The loving part is easy; the letting go—not so much. These two young beings are a constant reminder, though, of the importance of focusing on what we have, not what we have lost; it is what allows them to love again and appreciate every little scrap life has to offer.  It is a good reminder for the rest of us, too.

Pete and Skeet: Friends Forever

Friday, December 25th, 2009

One evening as a newlywed, my  husband called me from work and said that he was bringing home a rescued puppy.  This puppy, said he, was very sweet and had been treated abysmally. He had heard that the rescuer was searching for a home and of course he could not turn the pup away.  So I prepared a little box for the pup, stuffed it with comfy old blankets, and awaited the inclusion of our new family member.  It was a long evening until the pup arrived, and I finally gave up and went to bed.

Slurp! I got a lick from a giant tongue on my face as I was quickly awakened by a monstrous-sized dog. Some pup! This was a half-husky, half shepherd mix that was one of the most beautiful creatures I have ever seen.  Despite his enormous size and paws, he was a very gentle young dog.  However, the little box appeared ludicrous compared to his enormity, and I knew I had been hoodwinked. But it worked.

pete

Pete had a golden color and longer hair than a shepherd, more like a collie but solid golden.  The fur near his chest was proud and bold, and his ears were upright and attentive. If ever there existed a dog who was loving and appreciative, but filled with spirit, it was Pete. The picture that most captures the younger me in a happy, relaxed state is one with Pete. He brought happiness along with those enormous paws.

Another late evening (I was catching on by now), I received another call from my husband relating that he had found another little critter for me to adopt.  This one was a newborn kitten, and by newborn, I mean newborn as in left wet without the umbilical cord being cut.  My husband stumbled across him while working as a night watchman (he was a student at the time). He did not believe the poor little thing had any chance at all for survival, so he threw him in the water by the dock. To his amazement, the kitten started swimming.  Still believing that the kitty could not make it, he got a mop and held him under, thinking he was sparing him a slower death.  But the kitten bobbed up and started swimming again, so he scooped him up and brought him home, complete with instructions that the kitty needed to be fed every hour round the clock. He said if that kitty wanted to live that badly, he was going to give him the chance.

Skeet

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Serenity Springs Sanctuary

Friday, September 4th, 2009

Brigette and horses

Meetup director working at the sanctuary

On twenty-five wooded acres in Forestburg, Texas is an animal rescue and sanctuary called Serenity Springs.  Forestburg is steeped in old west history; but there are lots of untold stories right in the sanctuary. Our vegan meetup goes out periodically to try to render some assistance, so I had perused their website prior to my first trip out to see the animals. Despite the website photos,  I was ill-prepared for all the animals (well over one hundred) and their amazing guardian, Terry DeGaw. Terry has been at this game of tending her flock for nearly twenty years now. She is a compassionate woman whose kindness has allowed many animals to survive and flourish in a peaceful setting when others tossed them aside. Many of the animals had been abused and neglected, or nearly slaughtered, prior to coming to Serenity Springs, so Terry truly offers them a second chance. It also means her days are long and hard, but you will never hear her complain. There are dozens of water troughs and bellies that need to be filled, and animals that need grooming, nursing, loving, spoiling.  Terry does it all.

Abandoned

Buddy abandoned

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Finding Sophia

Friday, July 17th, 2009

Sophia

Feral Friends

I used to work in a two-story building built around a courtyard. It was a series of small businesses sharing the center, filled with umbrellaed tables and chairs.  It was pretty easy to become friendly with colleagues in other offices; in fact, I walked at lunch with a woman in an attorney’s office, and got to know the entire staff there. Surrounding the building were acres of open fields, surrounded by other business properties and many busy suburban streets. The fields were shrubby and barren, with no source of shade or water – not too hospitable to life.  But amid the brown grass and thorns, there was a struggle for life taking place.

One day my fellow office worker noticed a scraggly cat scratching around in the shrubs.  The cat looked dissipated and wan, as if it was starving and barely hanging onto life.  Nearby was a very young cat, possibly the daughter of the first one.  After a while, she also noticed another older cat, a male, also struggling in the inhospitable terrain, so she decided to intervene. She carefully set about trying to trap the cats by enticing them with food and water, using a professional-grade trap and a ton of patience.  The entire office was aware of the drama unfolding – all of us invested in saving these feral cats, and the cats just as invested in avoiding us.

Animal Control

Unbeknownst to us, there was an antagonist in all this: cat haters.  The older female cat had evidently been impregnated, probably by the roving Tom, and delivered her kittens here and there among the office shrubs.  The entire office (geologists, engineers, lawyers) were out on their hands and knees, peering about  in the bushes, trying to find the kittens as the mother cat moved them.  Just when we thought we knew where they were, she would move them again. Meanwhile, not content to allow us to rescue the bunch of them, the antagonists called the local animal control folks and they took the babies away – without the mother – to the pound and probable doom. All that left was the Tom, the Mom, and the little Daughter.

My colleague, Lana, was not one to give up. Bless her, she spent over $200 going to the pound and bailing out the babies, then continued to try to trap the scraggly Mom. She eventually caught the Daughter, and the Mom was not long behind her.  It was in time for her to care for the young ones and get the whole bunch of them off to good homes. One of the geologists agreed to take a few of the kittens but unfortunately, his daughter proved to be allergic, so they came back onto the market. Finally, Lana kept the Mom and the kids moved in with her next door neighbor, keeping the family intact – all save the Tom.  He was older, and wiser, and despite continual attempts, he alluded us.  We always tried to look out for him but he was no way going to be anything but feral.

A Happy Ending

Once the Mama Kitty, as she came to be known, was given vet care (she nearly died, so it was a good thing we found her when we did,) and food and TLC, her transformation was absolutely incredible.  It was like finding Sophia Loren underneath a bag lady’s layers of clothes – this was a gorgeous cat. She adapted to the indoor life and spoiling that Lana gave her and continued, as did her kids, to thrive. She never seemed to miss the outdoors – after all, it nearly spelled death for her. She was truly a princess awaiting her time to rule. Anyone that can get engineers and lawyers on their knees must have some special gift – Mama Kitty had that.  She was royalty, we were her subjects. Isn’t that what cats always seem to know?

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