I have been visiting the kittens during the day. Just going into the room and trying to make contact with them without throwing them into a tizzy. Gray girl will run from me, she eventually will dart into a carrier and hide. Orange girl just flattens her ears and watches me. I was able to touch and pet both of them while I was assist feeding them. Some of the food is disappearing out of the bowls, but not enough to keep a bird alive, so I am supplementing them for now.

I found gray kitty’s sweet spot this afternoon. She couldn’t help herself, she leaned into the chin rub and laid her head on my hand just briefly. Then her eyes opened and she looked so surprised like “WHAT!” and backed away from me hissing. LOL But I got her, those chin rubs will do them in almost every time.

I received an amazing book today by Darlene Arden called The Complete Cat’s Meow . This book does something that needed to be done for a very long time. It takes the two camps: ethical, responsible cat breeders and merges them with ethical, responsible rescuers (not activists) big difference.

The book goes into how to raise a kitten stray or shelter kitten the same way that breeders do. I am learning so much and I love it. For example, did you know that in ethical, responsible breeders homes- kittens are placed in a portable pen and pushed all over the house when they are old enough to move about? This acclimates them quickly to the house activities, keeps them away from the other resident cats and dogs and keeps everyone safe. What a great idea!

I have been reading the book out loud to the kitties a few chapters at a time and applying what I am learning when I can with the two of them. I would suggest to anyone who has a kitten, is considering getting a kitten- you need to BUY this book! If you rescue and or foster kittens, this book is indispensable in the information contained in the pages. The photos also have the “AWW” Factor.

When the book says Everything You Need to Know about Caring for Your Cat- the author isn’t kidding. This book is a gold mine of information and can strengthen the most important human-cat bond every cat lover strives for.

Psst- you can order it through Amazon.com

Is there anyone close to Ocala Florida willing to take two newborn kitties (eyes shut, umbilical cords attached) from the person who found them? The woman is frantic, she has no idea what to do and I am to far away to help her out. Please comment if you can help her and/or get in touch with me.

These two kitties are on their guard when I come into the room. The orange girl (who still needs a name) is laying in the large cat bed. Her ears tuck back automatically and her eyes dilate in fear. She crouches under the tall sides of the cat bed, only her eyes are visible and she watches me carefully, wondering what I am going to do to her next.

Gray girl is hiding inside the carrier. It is covered with a dark cloth and brings out her den instincts. She feels safe within the confines of this cave, but I am about to shatter her illusion of safety. These kitties did not eat last night and they need fluids badly.

I tried to give them fluids last night but finally gave up. They become rigid at my touch and so the elasticiity of their skin vanishes and there is no tent of skin to use to take fluids into.

So I come with reinforcements. My dear friend Haley who used to be a vet tech has volunteered to help me out. To perform a simple act that my husband no longer is able to- to give kitties fluids while I hold them.

Carefully, I draw up the fluid into the syringe. 60 cc. Little orange girl doesn’t like the added visitor and though we keep our voices low, she knows something is up. Her claws dig into the bed and she won’t budge. So rather than turn this into a tug of war, I bundle her bed and all and place her on top of the cage.

Her skin is so loose you could turn her into a purse! The needle goes in easily and the bubble starts forming on her skin dissapating as her body drinks up the much-needed fluids. She takes the whole dose and leaks just a little bit but better than last night because when she struggled, I temporarily turned her into a sprinkler.

I tuck her into a carrier and turn to gray girl. Using the bed to cushion her and comfort her, I cover her with the shell blanket exposing just the part of her neck where the needle will go. She is so tense, all the loose skin vanishes until gentle massaging brings it back so we can stick her.

When it is over, I breathe again. I am hoping this process will jump start their appetite and make them feel a bit better. I wonder how someone could have them in their home and not notice they are not eating or drinking- or notice and do nothing about it.

Haley and I sit on the floor and talk to them quietly. Our backs are turned but they can hear us and we tell them that they are okay. They are in a safe place and will want for nothing. They need to eat and drink and get strong and be healthy. Before we leave, we set out multiple bowls of water and one more pet fountain. They need to start drinking on their own. Hopefully, now they will~

I love 5:00 a.m. the house isn’t quite awake- well the cats are, but hubby isn’t. He is still sawing logs in the bedroom and will be for some time; sleeping in later and later each day as all the doctor visits, tests, treatments and the ravages of diabetes catches up to him.

5:00 a.m. when the dew is still on the tall grass and Brook tracks in wet pawprints as she sniffs all the new smells out in the fields.
5:00 a.m. when the raccoons are still sitting on the platform outside the window, looking inside as if to say “Can we have more food please?” I have stopped feeding at night because feeding the wildlife cat food is frowned upon (and expensive). The cats know if they want to eat, it has to be done before dark and at first light. The motion detector lights do little to dissuade these masked bandits from looking for loose kibble. Whoever told me at Home Depot that coons run when they are confronted with bright lights- well, they lied.

The house has a stillness and even the cats haven’t cranked it up in full gear. They are rubbing against my legs as if reminding me that they exist and they are “HUNGRY” they want to hear that familiar rattle of the kibble hitting the trays and the hum of the can opener- music to their ears I am sure.

I sit at the computer and catch up on my emails, polish up articles and plan my next move. I’m one hour from my only indulgence- a Mudslide at Buzz’d Coffee Hut and two hours from having to worry about what to fix for breakfast.

Chappy joins me at the chair. His cry in plaintive. He wants me to pet him. This is the only time this semi-feral boy will approach. The darkness comforts him and he knows if I pet him to much, he can just escape quickly and get away from all that silly lovin’- but this is his time for me, or my time for him.

Life hasn’t assaulted me yet. The phones are quiet, the only sounds in the house are the hum of the computer and the gentle snores of Brook accompanied by the purrs and trills of the cats.

It’s time to regroup. To drink in the day before it begins, talk to God and surround myself with my kitties. It’s my time to just breathe.

They are capable hiders these two new kittens. Even in a room that has basically been stripped bare of any escape holes, they find clever places to hide. So ingenious is their escape mechanism, that my breath stops with a gasp at what I consider an “empty” room.

I don’t wish to turn the lights on- I know they can’t get out of the room. There is no way. Early escapes from others before them have caused hubby and I to become tricky and devious and plug every hole.

So, I mentally mark off the room in a grid and start searching. I find little orange girl crammed inside a large container of dog biscuits. There is no top to this ancient cannister. It was bought for just a dime at the local thrift store to hold dog treats. Who knew it could also hold a scared kitten who would never be a dog treat.

The gray mackeral girl became a bit of a challenge. Somehow, she managed to sandwich herself under the wide lip of the litter pan. She was stretched flat against the side of the pan which is also gray, a chameleon of sorts. She can’t change the color of her fur, but she certainly can blend in to the common color.

Finding them caused their eyes to dilate and they began to pant. I have to wonder what in the world happened to them to make them so scared. What two-legged monster terrorized these kittens to the point of this acute fear? I left them alone after putting out food which I pray will be gone in the morning. I know they are hungry- when I assist feed them, they lap greedily at the gruel offered. But for now, I leave them in peace with Dr. Diane’s CD Harp of Hope playing softly in the background.

They do not have names yet, there is a golden mackeral tabby and a gray mackeral tabby. They are about 7 months old and their history is sketchy. Again, kept in closed carriers for most of their lives, I have them upstairs right now in a smaller room. They have ample places to hide, however nothing they can duck under. The gray girl is so terrified when let out of her carrier she climbed the walls looking for an exit hole. The lady who had them said they weren’t eating for a couple of days now and she is “tired” of dealing with them.

Thankfully, when I assist-fed them they both ate, rather greedily I might add and it did my heart good to see they had appetites. Lord have mercy but this Inn is full of furry ones.

Delilah is still draining which is what they want. She has a good appetite but her adventure at the vets plumb wore her out. She is doing a lot of sleeping, but then she is confined in a large dog cage, so her options on what to do are a bit limited.

She is as loving as the day is long and she goes back May 2nd to get her stitches out. Maybe then they will address those other abcesses for her. I wonder what attacked her so viciously? Usually cats when they fight, they don’t repeatedly bite over and over unless they are trying to kill each other. If she were a tom, that might be possible. I suspect instead she got nailed by something other than a cat.

Samson watches his friend with concerned eyes. He wants her to come out of the cage, but I dare not release her. If she gets under the bed, in no time she would scrape open her sutures and then she would be in a real mess!

Brooklyn keeps her distance. I ended up placing ten cat carriers in the room, all with different enticements inside; soft bedding, catnip, catnip toys, special treats, food, a water bowl with a ping pong ball floating in the bowl. At the arrival of the carriers she backed into a corner and hissed. All the doors are propped open, and my hope is her constant exposure to these carriers will over time make her less anxious to see them. I wouldn’t really push the issue, but she is in heat right now which means she needs to get to the vet and get spayed.

I received a sweet surprise this afternoon in the mail. Mrs. Peach has made this beautiful watch for me as a comfort for spending time with Shell. The watch has a beaded band and a cat clasp and looks absolutely beautiful!

Brooklyn is a new arrival. She came yesterday. I call her Brooklyn because in researching her background, she has got to be a gritty, determined tough little calico lady, just like this town in New York. Their motto is “In Unity, there is Strength.” Let’s hope that by coming here and being united with this household, Brooklyn can find her strength and righten herself.

Her previous owner had kept her for days on end in a small carrier. What is with people who think that this some sort of a LIFE for a cat? Cats are free-moving, independent spirits, and to keep them cramped up in cages or carriers (unless there is a medical reason) is disgusting.

But while Brooklyn was in this carrier, the woman’s twin sons would beat on the carrier with sticks! Grrr!
Really people get a grip! The mom would just laugh and think it was so funny and Brooklyn became an aggressive girl very quickly. The next step in this process? Why we will “get rid of the cat!” I guess the boys will have to find other entertainment now; like setting the dog’s tail on fire or plucking the feathers off the canary!

So when Brooklyn arrived here, I thought she was part tiger. Hissing, growling then screaming at the top of her lungs. I didn’t know much of her history then, just that they couldn’t keep her. I let her out of her carrier and she attacked me big time. I’m pretty good at not getting messed up when it comes to PTSD kitties but she took me completely by surprise.

I had to get her back in the carrier- that was fun. When this poor girl sees a carrier, she pees all over herself, her eyes dilate to the size of a full moon and she will NOT- I repeat, she will NOT go in there. I finally had to drop a duffle bag over her head to calm her down and then take Pop’s fishing net and lay that over her, wrap her up like a fish and put her in the carrier to keep her and myself safe.

It took me about an hour to set up a room for her. She is a large space free to roam. There is a larger dog cage in the room, with a carrier inside the cage full of soft bedding and a bit of catnip. All doors to carrier and cage are opened. The room is protected by a wire door and because of her aggression factor, I placed pet-proof screening over the wire. Then I let her out of the carrier she arrived in (tossed that hummer into the shed) and left her alone.

She has food, water, litter pans, toys, cat condos, beds and everything a kitty needs to be comfortable. There are several caves in the room which is where I suspect I will find her when I go up and check on her.

It’s always amazing to me how much harm people can do to cats either through ignorance or just because the people are evil. Cats never set out to do harm to other cats unless there is a reason-toms fighting over mates, alphas fighting to gain control- queens fighting to protect their young.

Yet time and time again PTSD kitties arrive here and they are so damaged their trust meter has been turned off.

Let’s hope that Brooklyn can overcome her past and become an adoptable, loving kitty- because as calicos go, this girl is drop-dead gorgeous.

Here’s Brooklyn

The vet just called and said they had to sedate Delilah and clip her. They found five old bite wounds that had receeded, abscessed, receeded, abscessed. They cut away all the necrotic tissue and there was a lot of it- poor kitty. They are keeping her overnight because they have to keep the wounds open so they will drain. I will pick her up in the morning. They also said the white barnacle stuff in her ears is a yeast infection that has calcified. They cleaned those out and will send home drops and antibiotics for sweet Delilah.

Delilah’s challenge

I have been thinking about Blossom (who I have now renamed Delilah) and I think she might be Shell’s Mum. Because the Fragile Skin Syndrome is genetically passed and they both have (or in Shell’s case had) it. Both are torties- one dilute long-hair, one tortie short-hair.

I dropped her off at the vet’s hope they see to her soon because they just called me to work later this afternoon.