Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Toby the Housecat
Toby is gone now. He lived with us for over fourteen years before kidney failure killed him. He showed up on our front porch asking for food. Mother fed him, of course. He was an enormous cat, not fat, just big. His head was even with my knee when he stood on all fours. A classic tabby, he was fawn and black with golden eyes. I told my mother that such a beautiful animal must belong to somebody. She responded, "Someone dumped him." I think now that she was correct.
Even though we had dogs, Toby did not leave. He probably knew that for all their noise, they liked cats. The second day he appeared on the porch, I decided to take a closer look at him, so I could place an ad in the newspaper ( this was long before the internet). He was neutered, then I discovered to my dismay that he had been declawed. Neither Mother or I believed a cat should be declawed. We also believed a declawed cat should never be outside. (Toby would change our opinion on that.) Then I noticed that his head was lopsided. One side was much larger than the other. It only took me a moment to determine that Toby had a large lump on the side of his head just over his jaw joint. He did not protest as I felt it and that scared me. I thought cancer.
Off to my veterinarian, Toby and I went. When we arrived, I was asked for a name for my new cat. "Toby," I said without thinking, and Toby he was. The veterinarian examined the lump, and Toby never moved.
"He's a good cat. I think this is an abcess that needs to be drained," my veterinarian said.
She took a scalpel out of a drawer, then made an incision. Toby did not like that, and it took all my strength to keep him on the table, he wanted to leave, but he did not bite. The veterinarian was correct. Yellow pus flowed out of the incision in a torrent. Once drained, she filled the hole with antibiotic ointment. I left with pills and ointment and instructions to bring him back if he did not improve. He did.
I placed an ad in the paper and asked around the neighborhood, but no one claimed Toby. Soon, he was part of the family, unphased by four dogs and two other cats. We did not try to make him an indoor only cat because we had a doggy door that opened into a fenced yard. We hoped Toby would have sense enough to stay in that yard, and for the most part, he did. The yard was surrounded by a six foot chain link fence (tough neighborhood, bars in back and a flop house across the street in front). Toby loved to perch on a fence post and survey both the back yard and the adjacent alley.
One day, my mother was in the back yard trimming shrubbery. Toby had assumed his normal perch on the fence post where he could supervise. My mother was five feet two inches tall and not big. That meant there was a twenty pound cat with the markings of an ocelot teetering on a metal fence post about a foot above her head. Mother was not concerned. Toby did this all the time. If he lost his balance, he simply jumped to the ground.
Suddenly, she heard a man yell, "Ma'am, ma'am, look out for that wild cat."
Mother looked around, the only cat in sight was Toby, who had now decided to jump to the ground beside her.
"Ma'am," yelled the man who was sprinting toward the fence, "Run."
At that moment, it dawned on Mother that the wild cat the man was so concerned about was Toby. As the man reached the fence, Mother reached down and petted Toby.
"He's no wild cat. Toby is a house cat."
The man simply stared at mother. "Are you sure?" he finally asked.
"Yes," said Mother. "He's our family pet."
The man shook his head, turned and walked away.
Mother heard him mutter as he left: "That ain't no house cat, that ain't no house cat."
Even though we had dogs, Toby did not leave. He probably knew that for all their noise, they liked cats. The second day he appeared on the porch, I decided to take a closer look at him, so I could place an ad in the newspaper ( this was long before the internet). He was neutered, then I discovered to my dismay that he had been declawed. Neither Mother or I believed a cat should be declawed. We also believed a declawed cat should never be outside. (Toby would change our opinion on that.) Then I noticed that his head was lopsided. One side was much larger than the other. It only took me a moment to determine that Toby had a large lump on the side of his head just over his jaw joint. He did not protest as I felt it and that scared me. I thought cancer.
Off to my veterinarian, Toby and I went. When we arrived, I was asked for a name for my new cat. "Toby," I said without thinking, and Toby he was. The veterinarian examined the lump, and Toby never moved.
"He's a good cat. I think this is an abcess that needs to be drained," my veterinarian said.
She took a scalpel out of a drawer, then made an incision. Toby did not like that, and it took all my strength to keep him on the table, he wanted to leave, but he did not bite. The veterinarian was correct. Yellow pus flowed out of the incision in a torrent. Once drained, she filled the hole with antibiotic ointment. I left with pills and ointment and instructions to bring him back if he did not improve. He did.
I placed an ad in the paper and asked around the neighborhood, but no one claimed Toby. Soon, he was part of the family, unphased by four dogs and two other cats. We did not try to make him an indoor only cat because we had a doggy door that opened into a fenced yard. We hoped Toby would have sense enough to stay in that yard, and for the most part, he did. The yard was surrounded by a six foot chain link fence (tough neighborhood, bars in back and a flop house across the street in front). Toby loved to perch on a fence post and survey both the back yard and the adjacent alley.
One day, my mother was in the back yard trimming shrubbery. Toby had assumed his normal perch on the fence post where he could supervise. My mother was five feet two inches tall and not big. That meant there was a twenty pound cat with the markings of an ocelot teetering on a metal fence post about a foot above her head. Mother was not concerned. Toby did this all the time. If he lost his balance, he simply jumped to the ground.
Suddenly, she heard a man yell, "Ma'am, ma'am, look out for that wild cat."
Mother looked around, the only cat in sight was Toby, who had now decided to jump to the ground beside her.
"Ma'am," yelled the man who was sprinting toward the fence, "Run."
At that moment, it dawned on Mother that the wild cat the man was so concerned about was Toby. As the man reached the fence, Mother reached down and petted Toby.
"He's no wild cat. Toby is a house cat."
The man simply stared at mother. "Are you sure?" he finally asked.
"Yes," said Mother. "He's our family pet."
The man shook his head, turned and walked away.
Mother heard him mutter as he left: "That ain't no house cat, that ain't no house cat."
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Daisy Lives Next Door
Daisy, a black and white female, appeared nine years ago. She showed up on our front porch one morning, a small blimp gobbling dry cat food. I called to her expecting her to flee as did most of our cat visitors. She took a few steps back, then stopped. I talked to her,"nice kitty, kitty, kitty..." as I tiptoed closer. She came to me. I petted her, then took a chance and scooped her up. She purred. I hurried inside and placed her in a carrier. She growled. I knew she needed to see a veternarian before I introduced her to my pride. I also knew she was very pregnant. I delivered her to my veternarian with the request to check her out, then left. My vet kept her overnight. The next morning, his assistant called. "She's disease free. Come and get her before she has the kittens here." I picked her and three days later, she had five kittens.
All was not well, however, while Daisy was disease free, she was in poor overall condition. She had not been eating regularly and was really just skin and bones and kittens. My vet was afraid we would lose both mother and kittens. She came home from the vet with vitamins, supplements and instructions to feed her all she could eat. Eat she did, and I gave her vitamins and supplements that she thoroughly enjoyed. The vet suggested that I also bottle feed the kittens after their first week of life to take some of the load off Daisy. So, twice a day for the next six weeks I fed the kittens.
There were three black kittens, one black and white, and one white. Two of the black were short-haired, one long-haired. The long-haired black was the only male in the litter. I named the black ones Wynken, Blynken and Nod (the male). The black and white one became Rosie and the white one Violet. All enjoyed their extra feedings and all enjoyed attention. After a few days, I noticed that the little white one had dirty feet. I was surprised because I changed their bedding twice a day, and Daisy was a very good mother bathing her babies regularly. On closer examination, it turned out the feet weren't dirty, the hair was getting darker. Violet was a Siamese. I asked my vet who informed me that Siamese are born white, then develop their distinctive markings. Violet grew to be a beautiful seal point Siamese.
Daisy was a superb mother as long as the kittens were nursing. Once weaned, though, she decided she had no relationship with these little things. She was absolutely sure that she had never seen them before and that she wanted them no where near her. The kittens soon attached themselves to one of our older neutered males who happily became their surrogate mother.
Daisy put on weight and seemed none the worse for her time with the kittens. We tried to integrate her into the pride. She would not associate with any other cat. Her antipathy aroused a reciprocal feeling in two of the younger males. They desired nothing better than to torment Daisy.
We had hoped to make Daisy an indoor only cat. We did not succeed and soon she was venturing outside regularly. Over time, we found out that Daisy was checking out the neighbors looking for a new home. Most would not allow her inside, a prime prerequisite, or there was another cat already in residence. Daisy wanted a home where she reigned alone. At last, she found a compromise. Our next door neighbor did not want a cat, but she did enjoy feline visits. Now Daisy goes over in the morning, stays all day, then returns home and indoors for the night. We have fewer cats now, so she tolerates this arrangement.
All was not well, however, while Daisy was disease free, she was in poor overall condition. She had not been eating regularly and was really just skin and bones and kittens. My vet was afraid we would lose both mother and kittens. She came home from the vet with vitamins, supplements and instructions to feed her all she could eat. Eat she did, and I gave her vitamins and supplements that she thoroughly enjoyed. The vet suggested that I also bottle feed the kittens after their first week of life to take some of the load off Daisy. So, twice a day for the next six weeks I fed the kittens.
There were three black kittens, one black and white, and one white. Two of the black were short-haired, one long-haired. The long-haired black was the only male in the litter. I named the black ones Wynken, Blynken and Nod (the male). The black and white one became Rosie and the white one Violet. All enjoyed their extra feedings and all enjoyed attention. After a few days, I noticed that the little white one had dirty feet. I was surprised because I changed their bedding twice a day, and Daisy was a very good mother bathing her babies regularly. On closer examination, it turned out the feet weren't dirty, the hair was getting darker. Violet was a Siamese. I asked my vet who informed me that Siamese are born white, then develop their distinctive markings. Violet grew to be a beautiful seal point Siamese.
Daisy was a superb mother as long as the kittens were nursing. Once weaned, though, she decided she had no relationship with these little things. She was absolutely sure that she had never seen them before and that she wanted them no where near her. The kittens soon attached themselves to one of our older neutered males who happily became their surrogate mother.
Daisy put on weight and seemed none the worse for her time with the kittens. We tried to integrate her into the pride. She would not associate with any other cat. Her antipathy aroused a reciprocal feeling in two of the younger males. They desired nothing better than to torment Daisy.
We had hoped to make Daisy an indoor only cat. We did not succeed and soon she was venturing outside regularly. Over time, we found out that Daisy was checking out the neighbors looking for a new home. Most would not allow her inside, a prime prerequisite, or there was another cat already in residence. Daisy wanted a home where she reigned alone. At last, she found a compromise. Our next door neighbor did not want a cat, but she did enjoy feline visits. Now Daisy goes over in the morning, stays all day, then returns home and indoors for the night. We have fewer cats now, so she tolerates this arrangement.
Labels: cats
