Memories

These are some of my memories of cats I’d like to share…

I think I am eight years old in this photo; I’m not sure. I am holding Goldie, and Tansy is laying in front of me. In all my childhood pictures, I am never holding dolls or stuffed toys. I am always holding cats. They’re larger than me. I’m surprised they tolerated it. LOL

This is Gulliver. We called him Gulliver because he loved to travel. In Alaska, he would hop into the UPS truck and the driver took him on his routes and then brought him back at the end of the day. He and I had such a bond that when we first moved to Oregon. One of the first things he did was run up a Heritage tree; he was way up there. Michael called me to tell me that he was up in the tree and I ran outside. I couldn’t even see him. He was so high up. Without even thinking about it, I yelled up at him “Gulliver, please come down!”

Well, he came down all right: he jumped! He landed on me with such force. I was knocked to the ground, and he landed on my face. He scratched my face so bad and then he scampered off and went into the barn. I guess to decompress.

Michael took one look at me and brought me inside and did his first aid magic to try to help me. Then he told me he was taking me to dinner. I put a hat on I wore sunglasses. I had long sleeves on even though it was summertime and hot. 

We went to the restaurant and I excused myself and went into the bathroom to see how bad it was and to try to see if I could clean it up a bit. This elderly woman, she looked like she was going to church, the way she was dressed. She came out of the stall and saw me in the mirror; her face was just priceless. I mean, she just couldn’t believe what she was seeing. She went to wash her hands and was still watching me in the mirror. Then, after she was done, she came up to me and she whispered in my ear, “If I were you, I’d leave the bastard!” And then she left the bathroom. Lol! I doubt she would’ve believe me if I told her a cat did it!

Michael kitty-sitting. In his lap are “The Trips” (Triplets):  Winkin’, Blinkin’ and Noddy.

Prowler. She lived in the rafters of our barn for a year before she decided to trust us. When she finally came down, we discovered she was a polydactyly. She was an amazing kitty. I called her my ambassador. She would take off during the day and she would always come home with an injured kitten or a cat who needed help. Completely unbelievable; she was amazing. I lost her to a cat-food recall. I even took her to a feline center and the vets tried so hard to save her. When they opened her up for the necropsy, they found all of these alien, looking tumors and bumps all over her organs. It was so sad; she was such a beautiful, wonderful cat.

Massey.

This is me. I have Kabota in my lap. We used to refer to him as Tractor Butt. He was one of Fern’s kittens. His sister, Shredder, is also tucked into my lap.

We called these girls the Triplets: Winkin’, Blinkin’, and Noddy. When they were just days old, someone left them in my mailbox. All three almost died, but they survived and went on to loving homes.

On the left is Nortie; to the right of him is Smudge, and in front is Gulliver.

Whistler.

This is Sly. She got run over by a lawnmower and lost her leg. My vet has a saying that all cats are born with an extra leg. She never missed the missing limb.

This is Fern and her babies. She has a very interesting story. We were out in the knife shop working on some knives. It was raining outside and we had the shop doors open. All of a sudden this cat who we had never seen before comes into the shop. Mike was actually relaxing in his chair and she jumped on his lap and dropped a kitten and turned and ran away! Now mind you we had never seen this cat before. She did this four times. 

Mike and I were just looking at each other baffled at what happened. I grabbed an empty cardboard box and a towel. We carried the kittens in the box to the house. The kitty followed us. We took them all upstairs. Neither Mike nor I picked up Fern. But she followed her family and we put them in the kitten room. We just let them be.

Michael had designed custom screen doors for the stairs, so there was a barrier between the new kittens or cat that arrived and the residential cats inside the house. We were sitting at the table discussing these very strange events and all of a sudden she appeared at the bottom of the stairs and she was squalling. She was desperate to get out. I asked him what he thought I should do and he said, “Let her out. If she doesn’t come home, we’ll just have to bottle feed the kittens.”

I opened the door and she ran straight past me to the back door and sat there and just screamed. I opened the door and I watched her shoot straight back to the creek. I waited for quite a while to see if she would come back, but I didn’t see her.

About 45 minutes had passed, so I went to the back door and I looked out back by the creek and I saw her coming back. But something was wrong. She was walking backward? I grabbed the binoculars and I took a look and I was amazed at what I saw. She was dragging a kitten that was bigger than any of the kittens she had upstairs. I called Mike and we both went out and rescued her. I picked up the kitten and Mike picked up Fern and we put them upstairs where they stayed. She was a great mother. We called the big kitten, Kabota and nicknamed him Tractor Butt. The reason we did that was when they were nursing, he would literally just dive onto her nipple and roll across her stomach and all the other kittens would tumble off of her. It was hysterical and we actually did have to bottle-feed so everybody got their fair share.

Smudge. When we lived in Alaska, I found her at the bottom of our hill, near our garage, and she was frozen in the snow. She was just days old. She spent 14 days at the vets and turned around and became the most awesome cat we have ever had. She traveled with us everywhere. She loved to ride in the truck, the motorhome, the boat; she just loved to travel. When we moved down here to Oregon, we had five cats and four dogs in our 35-foot motorhome. She was one of the cats.

When she acclimated to our new home, she loved to just lay out in the front yard on the driveway and catch sun. At that time we had trees that were bordering the front of our properties so the highway wasn’t as busy and active as it is now, and she never went near that road. 

Mike and I were out in the pasture building the horse-fence and we hadn’t built our regular fence around our house yet. The horses came first. I happened to glance out at the driveway and I saw this car coming in. I didn’t recognize. I started walking towards the front yard. It’s quite a distance about a football length distance where we were starting the horse-fence from the yard. As I got closer, this woman got out of the car. She was dressed like a church woman. She was immaculately dress she was elderly. She had heels on and pearls. She looked like she was going to Bible study. She started walking towards Smudge and something about this. Just really hit me, as there’s something wrong.

I started running and when I got there, I asked her what she was doing. She was bent over and she was snapping her fingers trying to get Smudge to come to her. She just said that this was a beautiful cat and wanted to see it. I told her to leave. Something about her something about this whole situation just made me feel very uneasy. I picked up Smudge and put her in the house and watch this woman leave our property.

A few days later, she came back. Again we were out in the pasture working on the fence. I noticed her I dropped everything I took off in a run by the time I got to the front driveway she was gone with Smudge.

I ran in the house, grab my keys, jumped in my truck and followed her. I could see Smudge just freaking out in her car as much as she loved to travel there was something she didn’t like about this woman. One of the windows was opened not very far. But far enough for Smudge to jump out. I saw the car in the other lane hit her and I screamed so loud. I pulled into the center lane and jumped out of my truck and by the time I got to her, she was gone.

I found out later after doing some research that there was an animal research lab in Corvallis that had targeted senior citizens retirement centers, and they were looking for calico cats specifically. They were paying good money and this woman took my cat so that she could have the money.

Smudge is buried in a place of honor underneath our walnut tree. She is loved to this day.

This is Kahuna. He is checking out our latest rescues, which were four baby skunks. Their mom was hit in front of our house. We went out and scoop the babies up so they didn’t get hit as well. They were very small. We bottle-fed them. We would put water in this pool that they had access to. They loved to take baths. Kahuna loved to join them. He was part of a litter of four. I got a call early in the morning by a very angry farmer who is ready to just stick his rifle into his wood pile and blow these kittens to smithereens. I got over there so fast. I think I was even wearing my slippers when I got there. Some people just need to take a chill pill.

This is Scatter and Bacardi, Kahuna’s brother and sister. The tuxedo kitty is Tumbles. Tums was actually thrown down the stairs by his drunk owner. He had some injuries to his back legs that made him walk funny, but he was a wonderful kitty.

Twirl. After I trapped her and let her out, and after she was spayed, she twirled around my ankles and wouldn’t stop. That’s how she got her name. She succumb to squamous cell carcinoma, which invaded the tips of her ears. They did remove her tips, but unfortunately, that pisses off the cancer and it came back with a vengeance, so I had her euthanized.

…So many cats, so much personality, so much love. Thank you for allowing me to share them with you.

A Special Message

A special message to those who followed feralcatbehavior.com since its infancy:

Due to my recent health issues, coupled with other underlying factors, it saddens me to announce my original blog is now in the wind.

In retrospect, I believe what happened was either the host used an older email address I no longer have access to, or the notice went into my spam folder. When I realized this, I called the host only to find out that they hold the website in stasis for 30 days. After that, they delete the entire website and it is parked until someone wants that domain name. They couldn’t even tell me which email they used. I no longer exist in their records. I had hoped that all it would take would be a phone call to them and I could pay the hosting  fee as well as any late fees then get my website back. I was incorrect in my assumption.

Along with the sorrow which followed learning this, I am left with the gratification of knowing that in its existence, it was instrumental in helping so many people. Not only in the United States, but all over the world regarding issues related to stray and feral cats.

My apology is sincere when I tell you that my blog simply fell through the cracks. There are no words to describe how I feel about the loss of all that content along with all those photos that often-times spoke louder than the words on the pages.

Over its existence, many of you have reached out to thank me for sharing my life and my love for feral cats in such a public way. You shared with me through emails and posts regarding your own experiences with these magnificent animals. You shared that, because of my blogging, you learned how to safely and lovingly interact with these often ostracized, misunderstood animals.

I want you to know that in return, I learned so much from each and everyone of you. I cherish the friendships that were made along the way. The emails, the phone calls, especially late at night asking me to come to the rescue of a cat or kitten in trauma. The joy of meeting some of you face-to-face, up close and personal; even having a few cat lovers in Washington show up one day and clean my home for me when I was unable to. The memories I hold are strong. Some of these friendships are lasting to this day. I am beyond grateful.

To this day, there are still monthly donations of cat food, which not only surprises me, but makes me love you all the more. They always seem to arrive during a time where I’m currently wondering how I’ll able to keep this going. I may have shut down my non-profit - it was a hard decision but necessary - yet still, these remaining rescues remain my top priority.

So many cats, whose lives I wrote about the minute they hit my door... All of them memorable in their own special way. Their stories uniting cat-lovers from all over the world to join together to help bring these cats who had fought insurmountable odds to survive. Hundreds, if not more; too many to list here.

One special memory sticks in my head right now. A little girl in grade school back east giving up her allowance for food at school so that Starlight - the emaciated black-and-white pedigree Persian - could have the support he needed. The girl’s teacher had found my blog and she was reading it out loud to the class. That’s how they learned the story of Starlight. The girl’s mother wrote me and said that her daughter had approached her and told her she wanted to sacrifice her lunch allowance. Instead, mom took over and blessed us with money for the care this cat desperately needed. The offering brought me to tears.

So, thank you all for everything. The support, the love, the community we built over the years. Just like the cats, I hold so dear in my heart the people, the friends; too many to list here online, but all who still live within my heart and my memory.

Going forward in this new space, I hope to hold true to my original intent in creating feralcatbehavior.com which was to share my love, my respect  and my journey with these often misjudged animals who deserved a lot better than what they experienced before arriving at my gate.

God bless you all

Mary Anne

The Unwelcome Visitor

Yesterday while I was washing dishes. I looked out the window. I have a pretty clear view of the cats inside the enclosure. I noticed Ashley was sitting on one of the platforms. She didn’t look right to me. Her head was cocked down, and she was intently staring at something. Most of my cats will alert to even the tiniest ants, and they will go for the kill almost every time. Same goes for spiders and flies or anything that enters their domain.

There was something different about her behavior. She wasn’t attacking whatever she was focused on. Instead, she was watching very carefully. I could see this pretty large insect advancing on her and as it advanced on her, she would quickly back up. A few days ago, I realize that we have an underground yellowjacket nest on the other side of where our spirit tree used to be. I was concerned that it was a yellowjacket and she was going to get stung.

I quickly went outside, grabbing a long-handled hammer on the way. When I got into the cat enclosure I could see this big black insect. It seemed to be chasing her...

I quickly walked over and looked and saw the unmistakable red hourglass indicative of a black widow. Ashley had already vacated the platform. I took the hammer and I smashed this invader.

I have seen black widows here before, but generally, they are in the woodpiles, or the firewood. I’ve never seen one inside the cat enclosure. I checked Ashley up and down to make sure that she hadn’t been bitten and she showed no signs of it. She was acting perfectly normal. I am grateful that she had her survival instinct, fully engaged. This could’ve gone very badly for both of us.

Just to be on the safe side I kept a watch over her for a few hours and saw no symptoms. No tremors, no paralysis, no diarrhea, no vomiting this morning. She is alert and happy and alive and I’m grateful that I chose that certain time of the morning to wash my dishes.

Back in Cascadia Park

This morning, Kota and I went up on the mountain to Cascadia Park. It’s an amazing place. Very quiet and secluded. They have an unfenced dog park tucked  in the back, so we decided to check that out. You can see by the photos how it’s laid out. Kota was the only dog there.

Being up here with him off leash, it quickly became apparent that I need to work with him on his obedience skills. He does have obedience training. However, the inability for me to work with him in the last three years really shows. Once he gets on a scent, or he sees a chipmunk, squirrel or rabbit, all his focus goes not on me but on the animals. 

I’m so grateful that part of my training him included not chasing wildlife. We have a lot of wildlife in our backyard. However, we do not have rabbits; that was a new one for him. Thankfully, he obeyed me, but I could see him quivering. His actions spoke clearly to me: “ Mom! Let me go. I want to chase!” I am grateful that, despite the fact that I haven’t worked with him on a daily basis in so long, he did behave himself.

I was so excited yesterday: I almost made a fist with my right hand! Two of my fingers appear to have a mind of their own. They are moving over, not allowing me to make a full fist, but it is so much better than it was right after the surgery. Even better than it was a month ago. I believe my therapist has a lot to do with it. She has me doing bicep curls with 5 pound weights, one in each hand. The first time I tried it, it was dismal. I couldn’t even lift my left arm up past my waist. She just keeps encouraging me and telling me that it will get better. She is thinking about releasing me from therapy in two weeks. I have promised her I will continue all the exercises at home until I am able to again reached the top shelves of my cupboards. Her next challenge is a bit daunting. She wants me to start washing my walls. Not that they don’t need them, but I still will not be able to do the entire wall. I’m still trying to get behind the wheel of my truck. That is still quite a ways away I’m afraid.

Well, the bus has arrived to pick us up. This park is only 25 minutes from my home. It was just so nice to escape, for even just a little while.