Another orange tom was trapped last night - and then I was able to trap a black and white tom! Both of them are showing signs of wounds on their faces and necks - the natural results of an unneutered male in the wild. They are going to the vet first thing today. They will be picked up at 7:45 a.m.; that works because I have to go to the hospital tomorrow for more tests. That appointment is at 10:45 a.m.
I can hardly believe it. This morning I captured Mamacita! She has had two litters on my property since she’s arrived. I am grateful that with the help of this program I’m able to get these cats picked up and hand-delivered to the vets, as well as brought back to me. There’s no way I’d be able to pick these traps up, especially when the cats inside them are feral; they move around a lot as you can see by Mamacita’s nose - she was crashing into the side of the trap. They can’t get her spayed until tomorrow so I have released her into my large cage in the bedroom. Her nose is pretty bloody from crashing into the trap.
Speaking of crashes - or actually feral cat wounds - it was determined yesterday during Sundances and Angel’s neuters that Angel had several bite wounds on his neck and tail section. They had all apparently abscessed, but they have healed to the point that the vet just decided to give him an injection of antibiotics that will last two weeks.
Sundance, on the other hand, is completely bitten from the tip of his tail to the middle of his back! He also got a shot of antibiotics. But I’ve decided to keep him in the cat room until he is completely healed. He is currently hiding under the sofa bed. But I am pleased to report that he is eating. He is drinking and he has used the litter pan. I am hoping to work with him before surgery enough so that when I release him, he will stick around on my property, and not go back out to the front yard so close to the highway. We’ll see what happens. I have a little over two weeks to go.
Mamacita will be picked up tomorrow morning to get spayed. Yay! No more kittens for her!
This is the kitty that got away the other night. I honestly did not expect the cat to return back to the trap but hunger can drive a cat to do things it wouldn’t normally do. It’s 1:00 a.m. Monday morning. We are not in the 20° range right now but we are in the 30° range. I’m still hoping against hope that Luna is still out there. So I left the trap in my front yard baited not only with food but with prayer. Marion, Luna’s owner, believes that her baby is gone. She says she feels it in her heart that she’s no longer here. Regardless, I went ahead and left the trap there, and this is the result.
There is no ear tipping, I have no idea what sex this cat is. I am calling the kitty Sundance. I’m hoping that this morning when Jennifer comes to retrieve the kitten, she can also take this slightly older cat to the vet as well. If not, I will keep the kitty here until there’s an opening at the vet. I’m just so relieved that I’ve gotten another one off the street. There’s just too many out there, too many people are feeding and not trapping-neutering-releasing.
This little boy, who is under a year old, was inside the trap meant for Luna this morning. He’s very quiet. I think he’s very grateful because he’s not freezing. We have another cold front coming in tonight hoping I can continue to trap the majority of these strays before February 19th.
Unfortunately, this morning, when I was feeding, I saw another kitten about the same size as this one. She is a long-haired grey kitty with white paws. Totally gorgeous; going to try for her tonight in the shop. Discovered late last night that the traps that were returned to me after the woman had them for months need to be repaired. I’m going to go out in a few minutes and grab some tools and see if I can fix them, because right now, it only leaves me with two traps that work instead of six traps.
With baited breath I approached the trap I set up before dusk last night. The grass crunches under my feet. Bitter wind blows at my back. An ice storm with temperatures as low as 18°F had set in overnight. I am praying that the trap will be occupied so I can get the poor critter some help.
This time I’m not trapping a cat. I was alerted to an emergency issue concerning a Papillon. She is 10 years old, she is fragile, unfortunately, she is thin and worse than that four days ago when she bolted out their back gate, they had just trimmed her because she was matted.
I met the lady looking for her in lieu of the owner who is elderly yesterday. She had knocked on my door and handed me a flyer of this beautiful dog asking if I had seen her. I was told that she was seeing three doors down from my house. Her owner lives directly behind my house. When they were trying to retrieve her to get her back home, she headed straight from my place. Unfortunately, between my place and her home stands a lot of blackberry thickets. Her name is Luna. Marion has had Luna for 10 years. Luna has never left the property. They believe that she is altered somehow. (My guess after listening to her symptoms is she has had a stroke.)
I finally reached the trap, which I had set in the corner of my front yard out of the wind as much as possible. There is nothing inside and my heart sinks.
When it gets this cold, the predators come down from the hills, looking for food and water that’s not frozen. Such a tiny dog who is afraid of her own shadow, doesn’t like dogs, doesn’t like cats, and runs from people, is probably pretty easy prey for predators who are hungry and cold.
She has been seen on the highway quite near my home. Several of my neighbors have tried to catch her, but she is not catchable. That’s why I set up the trap. I wanted to go outside last night so many times to see if she was there, but it was so icy. I was afraid I was going to fall. I can’t fall again. I can’t risk it.
I just heard that the owner wants to give up. She is very distraught. She is also not very healthy and she can’t go looking at her own for her dog. Her dog is very accustomed to her voice and no one else’s. I told her when I heard the news that I would not give up I will keep the trap going. Who knows maybe I’ll even catch one of the five strays. If that happens, I can get the stray cat in and get him or her fixed. I almost wish that in the mornings when I look up and down the highway that I see her on the road because at least then the owner has closure. The dog isn’t stuck somewhere unable to get out of the thicket where they suspect she’s hiding. Or maybe just to old and tired to care about moving at all.
Who knows, tomorrow when the sun comes out, she might just show up and go inside the cage to eat the food that’s offered to her there. That would be a wonderful miracle.
Finally, I was able to get in to see another orthopedic surgeon who specializes in knees, hips, and legs. Thankfully, I was told that for my age, my knees are in pretty good shape. So no surgery on that part of my body. Thank you, God. Based on the results of the CAT scan, the surgeon believes that I tore my meniscus and I chipped the muscle underneath the meniscus. They are holding me from going to physical therapy right now because my surgery is coming up next month for my shoulder.
Once I start PT for my shoulder, they will just include exercises for my leg and knee to strengthen my quad. They gave me home exercises to do. One of them includes putting two weights, one on each ankle and doing leg lifts from a chair.
Yesterday I was sitting in my armchair, and I strapped the weight to my ankle, I started lifting my weak leg. I had my eyes closed and I was doing it very slow. Suddenly, the leg felt a little bit heavier as I lifted it up.
I opened my eyes, and there was Winston. He was hanging onto the weight on my leg with both claws and getting a free ride! Such a goofy kitty. I went to reach for my cell phone, but by the time I got it, he was on my lap. Funniest thing I’ve ever seen.
I don’t know if he will repeat this exercise. Maybe, instead of being my massage therapist he would rather be my physical therapist? I think it will probably depend on the pay scale! Time will tell.
Last night, lying in bed, trying to claim sleep, sleep eluded me. My body was spent; both my shoulders felt like they were on fire. I was exhausted and tired.
Nestled under all the warm blankets, I gave into the pain and started to cry.
Winston (formerly named Webster, to which he was not responding; he likes Winston better) was on top of his Blanket Mountain (what I like to call a stack of blankets placed on top of the chest that stands alongside the back of the bed.) I felt a gentle plop on the bed as he jumped down and approached.
I found myself silently praying: “Dear Lord, please don’t let him walk all over me right now.”
With all my nerves misfiring inside my hand, arms and shoulder, I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle even the tiny bit of weight of this kitten.
Winston is quite the Purr Factory. I call him my “Endless Purrer.” He was purring as he drew nearer. The closer he got, the more the purrs changed in their timbre. They became deeper, richer, purer in tone.
Winston lie down beside my right arm. This is the same arm I had surgery on in May. His body was horizontal, and his head was pointed in my direction. He started kneading me. Scooting his body sideways, he worked himself up and down my right arm with just his head resting gently on my arm. To me, it almost felt like he was playing scales on a piano. Back and forth, up and down. I could feel his purrs resonate inside my arm, shoulder and hand. Listening to his kitty lullaby, lulled by the gentle massage of paws with no claws extended, I fell asleep.
In the morning when I woke up, Winston was asleep, snuggled next to my arm. At that moment, oh, how I wished that I had a usable right hand where I could reach out and pet him. (Not quite yet, still working on that challenge).
Why was I so tired the night before? I received an unexpected New Year’s blessing, one that allowed me to order cat food, cat litter, warming beds for the cats. By the time I was wrestling all the boxes into my house, my nerves were burning and crackling from all the lifting and wrestling boxes into their proper places.
There were so many boxes by my front door, I had a hard time walking over to the door to shut it. Although I was so sore, I could hardly move, I felt an incredible warmth build up inside of me towards the amazing gift spread out before me.
The gift was quite timely. I am getting ready to have a second surgery on my left shoulder. I believe the surgeon is planning on doing it next month. I have to have a CAT scan first.
As I type this, I wonder if I’m crazy? Although it’s with a different surgeon, my prayer is that after this surgery, I will have a usable left hand instead of a near useless one.
But now I am ready. For all the people, my villagers who are gathering around me once again, ready to go through another round of post surgery care. Not only for me, but for my cats and my dog. I have all the food I think to get through the 16 weeks of being on couch arrest. Just the thought of the person with such warm generosity: this removes some of the stress from off my shoulders.
I know tonight when I lay down to go to sleep, Winston will once again snuggle with me. If I happen to break down in the middle of the night, I am sure my massage therapist is standing by, ready to go to work and purr me back to sleep.
