KITTENS IN TROUBLE

Last Fall, Lois had a litter of 4 kittens.  Three beautiful black ones and a little orange striped tabby. They were so cute.  There's something about Lois though that I need to make clear right off the bat.  

She has a bad upper respiratory infection and she has this thing about moving her kittens frequently.  

I'm not sure which issue caused the problems with these kittens, but it may have been one or both.
It was September 6th, 2012 when she gave birth to them.  When I saw them the first time, they all seemed to be doing pretty good.  However, one night it was cloudy and threatening to rain and for some odd reason, Lois decided to move the kittens to our neighbor's yard.  He has an old truck sitting there and the bed of it is full of junk.  It also has a toolbox or whatever it is, stretched across the back behind the cab and I guess she felt that was a safe place for the kittens.  I caught her in the process of moving them and watched where she was going, which is how I knew where they were.  Since it was already starting to rain, I grabbed the last two kittens and brought them to her at the truck.  What else was I supposed to do?  I didn't want her to leave anybody behind, they needed their mama and with the rain, I felt it was best to get both at the same time and pass them to her in the truck.
I was annoyed at her because it really wasn't a great place for them, but you can't reason with a cat, know what I mean?
I left the kittens in her capable care and went to bed.  The next morning, I went to check on them and they were being moved again.  I found two but couldn't figure out where the other two went.  I waited a bit until Lois came back and saw her coming from our other neighbor's lean-to shed, which connects to our back yard.  Okay, that was a decent place - at least out of the rain and heat.  There were some old truck tire rims in there filled with leaves and that's where she put them. Right inside those tire rims.  I got to say, she's creative - haha.  I noticed the kittens were all a bit wet, but didn't really think anything of it at the time.  It was still relatively warm out so I figured they would dry and be fine.
About a week later, I picked up the little orange kitten and while I was holding him, I noticed that he was breathing funny.  He acted like he was gasping for air.  I got concerned because I didn't know what was wrong. I had never seen this before.  I put him up to Lois and he didn't seem to want to eat.  So, out of desperation, I got a kitten nursing bottle and some formula and tried to bottle feed him.  He didn't seem to be able to swallow.
I called our vet and told her the problem and she said that it was likely aspiration pneumonia.  If the kittens got wet in the bed of that truck during the rain the week before, it was likely they inhaled water and their little lungs were too immature to cough it up and then they probably got a bit chilled during the night and subsequently got sick.  Now, that being said, Lois has that infection in her lungs too, so my question was, did she make them sick by passing the infection on through her milk or did they get sick from the rain and getting cold?  We'll never know.
The vet said I could try giving the kitten antibiotics, which I did but he never got better.  Lois obviously knew he was dying and she kept moving those kittens and avoiding him.  One Sunday afternoon about a week later, I found that she had moved the kittens yet again.  There's this old toolbox, the kind that's on wheels and has a cabinet at the bottom, drawers on top, behind our travel trailer.  I found 3 of the kittens in there. I was furious with Lois because that was the most dangerous place she could put them.  It's old and rusty, full of holes and there's no way I could get to them if they had fallen through the holes to the bottom, without having to move a pile of other junk to access the entire toolbox.  I frantically searched for the orange kitten, because all the black ones were accounted for.  I moved them back to the old tire rim and looked everywhere for that orange one.  I couldn't find him.  Finally, I went back to the toolbox and strained to look inside it, but if you could see it, you'd understand how difficult it was to look deeper than the first shelf in there.  I finally stuck my hand in, at the risk of getting cut by the rusty edges or bitten by some unknown creature in there.  I found the kitten - he had fallen through one of the holes that had rusted out.  Somehow with adrenalin pumping, I managed to fish him out.  He was pretty limp and at first I thought he was already dead, but after looking closer, I realized he was still breathing, just very weak.
I took him back to the others and coaxed Lois into the tire rim with them.  I put him up to her and she did reach her paw out and placed it on him.  I thought maybe there was hope.  He still wouldn't latch on to her, but what more could I do?  By this time, I noticed one of the other kittens acting the same way, gasping for air.
I started administering antibiotics to that one too.  She had wicked snot coming from her nose and crud from her mouth.  It broke my heart.   Thankfully at this stage, the other two still seemed okay.
Late that night, I went back to the neighbor's yard, with all the creepy crawlies in the shed, to check on the kittens.  I found the little orange one lying off the one side of the tire rim and Lois nursing the others.  From the way his paws were spread out beneath him, I knew he was dead.  I picked him up and he was still warm, so it must have been only moments ago that he died.  I was heartbroken.  He was so cute and so fragile.
I put him up to Lois and let her smell him.  She gave him a lick and then looked at me like she understood that he was gone.
I took him to the house, wrapped him in some newspaper and put him in a box and then buried him the next morning.  I named him Rusty, partly for his color but also because of his incident of falling into the rusty hole in the toolbox.
I went back to check on the other kittens and the little female with the snotty nose was still having a rough time but she was nursing so I gave her antibiotics and left her with Lois, hoping for the best.
The next day, I couldn't find the kittens in the tire rim anymore.  I searched everywhere between our yard and the neighbor's.  I finally found them on the ROOF of the shed where the tire rims were.  I was livid.  I mean, what cat in her right mind puts kittens on a roof - anywhere?  Sure, it's somewhat protected by the huge trees hanging over it, but seriously, they could fall off.
So...I got a ladder to allow myself to climb up and see exactly where they were on the roof.  They were precariously near the edge on one side of it, but still accessible if I could find a way to move them.  I got down, found a golf club and climbed back up the ladder.  I carefully inched the golf club up to the kittens and pulled them towards me one by one.  I put them back in the tire rim.  When I got them all, I went to put the ladder and golf club away and came back to check on them - and they were gone - AGAIN!  In a matter of 5 minutes they all disappeared from the tire rim.  I stood there in our neighbor's shed, cursing Lois and wondering where she went this time.  Would you believe it?  Back on the roof!

I finally left her and the kittens alone, there was nothing I could do.  I also couldn't give them any antibiotics anymore so I gave up and just checked on them as much as I could.  About 4 days later, she brought the kittens down and they were sitting under a tree near the shed.  They didn't appear any worse for wear, all things considered, and I figured she would find a new spot, hopefully closer to ground level.  Unfortunately, that was not the case.  Back on the roof they went.  She carried them up there while I watched and thankfully I was there, because one did fall off.  He broke his fall by landing in a tree and I was able to catch him before he fell all the way to the ground.  Poor little fellow.  I named him Scooter, since he had been one of the stronger ones at the beginning and moved pretty quickly.
It made me sick to think of finding a kitten dead after falling from the roof.  It's about 8 feet high at the lowest point and about 10 feet at the highest.  There's a vehicle sitting under part of it, so it wouldn't be as far if they landed on the car but what are the chances?
It rained that night again, and Lois finally moved them off the roof and back to our yard.  I didn't get a chance to check on them though until later the next day.  That's when I found one of them with a broken neck - obviously dead.  I don't know if it fell off the roof or if Lois broke its neck when she carried it.  The kittens were about 4 weeks old by this time and getting too big for her.  She's a tiny cat.  I didn't see it happen so I really don't know.
I got out the newspaper and another box and buried him next to the little Rusty.
The remaining two kittens seemed to be okay for the most part.  The little snotty-nosed one was still having issues, but she was running around more and I thought maybe she'd be okay. At this point they were in a pile of logs in our yard. I managed to make a little pen of sorts, out of the logs to protect them a bit better but wasn't convinced that would work for long.
The next morning I went out to check on them again and both kittens seemed fine.  They were eating and walking around so I left them alone.
Later that afternoon I went back out to look at them again and noticed one was missing.  I searched everywhere.  Lois was sitting in the pen with the other one and he seemed fine and she didn't act like anything was wrong.  All of a sudden she got up and there was the kitten, the little snotty one, flat as a pancake under her mother.  I was horrified to say the least.  I don't know if Lois accidentally sat on her and killed her or if she was sitting on her to protect her until I came.
Once again, I got out the newspaper and another box and buried that kitten too.  I called her Bubbles because of her snotty nose.
Now we were down to one kitten.  He too had a bad eye infection and a snotty nose, but he seemed strong.  He certainly wasn't showing any signs of distress.  I left him alone for the most part, as far as giving antibiotics.  I only treated his eyes with some Terramycin and that seemed to help clear them up fairly quickly.  Since he was the only survivor of that litter, I named him Rupert, after the fellow on the show Survivor that won the million dollars a few years ago.  Some of you may remember him with the tye-dyed shirts.
Rupert seemed to get stronger over the course of the next couple of weeks.  He quickly learned where I fed all the adult cats and he would run over to the plate I have out there for them and sit in the middle of it.  See?

Rupert (center) Owen (left) & O-jay (right)

It was really comical most days.  He'd sit there sometimes from 5 pm until whenever I got there.  I swear that kitten wore a watch.  After a few days of this, he figured out that when I came outside, he should run to greet me with the big boys, and he started doing that too.  It was so cute.  I really felt that this little guy was going to make it.  He was eating well and playing, he seemed to be doing great, despite the demise of his siblings.
Then one night it got chilly outside.  It was supposed to get down in the 40's and I didn't know what to think about Rupert.  However, since he was 6 weeks old and still hanging out with Lois most of the time, I trusted him to her care and went to bed.  The next day, Rupert was breathing funny, like his siblings did.  My heart sank.  I started giving him the antibiotics, but that didn't seem to help at all.  Each day he got a little worse.  I called a friend of mine and she said I could try giving him saline drops in his nose to try to clear it up.  That seemed to be his biggest problem, he wasn't able to clear his nose very well and he was frequently choking on the crud in his throat.  I didn't know what to do.  The saline drops were a fail, he didn't like that for one thing and they just didn't seem to do anything for him.
Then it got colder.  I found a box for him for the night and since he was fairly weak by this time, I decided I could put him in the box with it tipped on its side so he could get out if he wanted to, and I lined the box with some towels and a thick wool blanket and wrapped a heated rice pack in a towel as well and surrounded him with all of that.  The rice pack to give him heat and steam and the towels to keep him covered up.  I put a tarp over the whole thing and made a tunnel for Lois to get in and out and it seemed to be a good set up.
I'm not sure that it helped any or just delayed the inevitable, but the 3rd night of cold temperatures was Rupert's undoing.  I went out to him late that night, put a fresh heated rice pack in the box with him, tried to get him to eat a bit, but he wasn't interested.  Suddenly, he started screeching and his entire body stiffened.  I was terrified because I didn't know what was wrong.  I had just moved him a bit to make sure he was covered and he started this horrible screeching.  It lasted about a minute and then he sort of went into a trance and just sat there, barely breathing.  I didn't want to leave him but I couldn't very well sit outside all night with him.  Bringing him in the house wasn't an option because of my 3 inside cats.  I didn't want them catching whatever he had and it would be a circus trying to deal with him being so sick and them being curious about him.  It was too risky.
I finally resigned myself to the fact that Rupert would be gone by morning and coaxed Lois in with him before heading to bed.
At 2 am I woke up with a bad feeling so I got up and grabbed a flashlight and went outside to check on him.  He wasn't in the box.  Half asleep, I shone the flashlight around the yard to see if Lois was nearby and had him with her.  She was sitting near the feeding area but Rupert wasn't with her.  I finally found him quite a ways away from the box, lying in the cold, wet grass. He was still alive though.  I picked him up gently and brought him back to the box and got him all snuggled in again.  He didn't fuss this time, just laid there, limp.
Lois came into the box with him and I left her to care for him, knowing it was just a matter of time.
At 5 am, I went back out there and again, he was out of the box.  I looked around and this time he was just on the other side of the box, stiff and cold.  Dead.

Poor Rupert.  Here is a photo of him about a week before he died.

Little Rupert

I had a box already prepared so I just put him in it and went back to bed for awhile.  Later that morning, I buried the last of the kittens with his siblings.  I was so sad to have lost him too, but part of me was relieved to finally have this fiasco overwith.

Lois seemed a bit lost over the next few days, but soon she bounced back and was her usual perky self.  I felt sorry for her, but I guess cats don't grieve the same way humans do.  I think she knew her babies were sick and she accepted their deaths with grace.  At least she still had Owen and O-jay for company and life went on.
I wish, in hindsight, I had more experience with kittens and their various ailments.  I found out later that it might have been their blood sugar getting too low and I could have given them some Karo syrup to bring it back up.  If I had the money, I would have hauled them and Lois to the vet and had them all treated professionally, but I can't do that with no income.
Ideally, I would like to have Lois spayed and of course treated for her upper respiratory infection.  She's a sweet little cat but I don't like all the kittens because with that comes more responsibility such as caring for them when they are sick and finding them homes.  With so many cats already in shelters, it's difficult to do that in this day and age.
It breaks my heart to think of turning Lois over to animal control knowing they will put her down because she's sick.  I have already spoken with them about that and I can't do it.  If there was a way to prevent her from getting pregnant again, I would do it, but without the funds to get her spayed, it's impossible.
So, for the time being, I will enjoy this new litter she's got and hope for the best for all of them.
As for Rusty, Scooter, Bubbles and Rupert - RIP sweet babies.

Mama Lois and the younguns

My feral cat Lois got pregnant one chilly night in January.  I was outside about 1 am with our dog and heard some cat screeching going on in the garden.  I had a flashlight with me and aimed in the direction of the garden and sure enough, there was Lois with a tom.  Boo - the dog and I got to watch "kitty porn" for a few minutes and I had a sinking feeling that we were about to see more kittens in a couple of months.  Don't get me wrong, I LOVE kittens, but my fear was that it was too cold and I was also dreading a repeat of the last litter's demise.  I just didn't want to deal with unhealthy kittens again and have to bury them one after the other.
The weather had been relatively warm all winter with only a few days getting near freezing so I was hoping that by the time Lois was ready to give birth, that Spring would definitely be here and I wouldn't have to worry.  Of course, that was wishful thinking.
March came in like a lamb and you know the saying - it goes out like a lion.  True to form, it started getting cold around the middle of the month and by this time poor Lois was a tank.  I was figuring on a big litter this time.  I talked to her daily, telling her to hang on just awhile longer till it warmed up, but as any mother knows, when it's time, it's time.  The little rebels decided to make their debut on March 20th, 2013.

I kind of knew the day before that they were on their way.  I had gone out to feed all the cats and Lois was acting a bit "off".  She would pick up some food and then walk away, lie down on her side and just stay there awhile.  I figured she was in labor so I hastily set up a bed that I had found on the side of the road that belonged to a defunct daycare.  It was one of those portable baby playpen/crib deals and in excellent condition.  So, I set it up, lined it on all 4 sides with thick wool blankets so that the babies would be in a warm place at birth and also protected from the wind and cold.  I put a tarp over it and then picked Lois up and showed her the inside.  She seemed to understand because she clung to the sides of the bed and looked back and forth inside and then when I put her down, she sat there contemplating it a bit longer.
Well, as my luck would have it, the next morning I went out to take our dogs for a potty break and usually when I call the cats, Lois would come waddling out with Owen and O-jay.  This time she didn't, so I figured she was probably with her babies.  I went to the bed and called to her softly so she would know I was there, and lifted the tarp.  Sure enough, there she was with 5 beautiful kittens.  In previous litters, she had more black kittens than other colors, but this time, she had 2 orange tabbies, one orange and white patchy kitten, a  silvery/cream colored kitten and the oddball, a black and brown tortoiseshell that looks just like her mama.  They are sooooooo cute.  I was elated that she chose to put them in the bed I had set up because I felt this was the warmest and safest place for them until they were older.  I got a piece of plywood and set it on top of the bed, and it fit perfectly.  I set it at a bit of an angle so Lois could get in and out easily but the majority of the bed was still covered.  I then placed the tarp back over it, securing it on 3 sides so the wind wouldn't rattle it too much and made somewhat of a "tent" leading to the opening.  That proved to be a bit of a challenge because the tarp is heavy and I had nothing but some bamboo sticks and a few rebar poles to hold it up.  I made it work - somehow and Lois seemed fine with it.  Then Friday night came.  There was a threat of severe thunderstorms.  I had a bad feeling about this because the tarp wasn't in the best shape and I worried that the babies might get wet if it rained.
I hurried out there and put a vinyl table cloth over it and secured it with office paper clips (call me weird but that's all I had) and hoped for the best.  For what it's worth, it worked and everybody stayed dry and warm during the rain.  However....come Saturday morning, it was a whole different ballgame.  About 6:30 am, I was startled awake by a severe storm.  The bad feeling came back.  I couldn't go out there with the rain coming down so hard so I just prayed that the tarp and tablecloth would hold up against the wind and no harm would come to the kittens.
When it finally let up, I went out to check.  The tablecloth had a fuzzy liner on the bottom side and that made it heavier so it forced the tarp further down into the opening for Lois but otherwise, everything was intact and the bed was dry.
I called to Lois to make sure she was alright and she was under the tarp on the ground meowing at me.  I lifted the tarp higher and greeted her, not realizing she was wanting to get into the bed.  I lifted the plywood off a bit to let her in and realized there was only one kitten in there.  I guess the storm scared her and she felt she had to move them.  Now I was really concerned because the forecast said that after this system had moved out, it was supposed to get down to freezing again.  That's typical Georgia weather in winter, when it rains, it gets cold immediately afterwards for a few days.  I saw her take the last kitten under the travel trailer in our yard and I shook my head in defeat.  There went my plans to keep those babies safe and warm.  The trailer offers little protection and I resigned myself to dealing with burying 5 more kittens.
I contacted a local cat sanctuary to see whether or not they thought the kittens would be okay, and they said that lower than 45 F would put them at risk and the kittens should really be caught and put in a warm place.  That was impossible because I couldn't find them.  I was constantly mooning the neighbors while bending over to look under the trailer. Since the ground was so wet I didn't want to get down on my hands and knees, so I searched repeatedly with no luck.  I knew approximately where they were but couldn't see them.  I was ticked off at Lois for foiling my plans but what could I do?  She didn't understand that it was cold and she felt she was protecting her babies, so I had to leave it to her to do what she thought was best.
It stayed cold all week and with each passing day and not seeing the kittens, I became more frustrated but also less hopeful that they would survive.
Kittens are unable to regulate their body heat before 3 months of age and they have no shivering reflex until they are at least 6 days old.  That didn't help much, but there was nothing I could do.  I moved the bed to another location, set it back up and showed it to Lois in hopes that she would get the message to put them back in there, but she never did.  I moved it back to its original location and she still refused.
I left it sitting there, hoping she might eventually figure out what I wanted but didn't hold out much hope.  At one point when I went to feed the older cats, I heard a kitten whining so I knew at least one was still alive.  That was somewhat comforting.  If one was alive then maybe the others were too.
Well, last night I saw Lois coming out from a different part of the trailer and figured she had moved them again.  I got her busy with her supper and went to the other side of the trailer, which is difficult to get to because it's up against a fence, but I managed to get back there to see if the kittens might be around there, since she had put previous litters in that area.
I didn't see them there so I went to our neighbor's shed, which is right up against the back of the trailer and checked the old tire rims where she put the last litter for a good while.  No kittens there either.  Then it dawned on me - the old grass catcher.  She had 2 previous litters in there but since she didn't give birth to them in it this time, I didn't think about them being there.  The grass catcher fits onto a lawnmower but not the one we have so it's stored behind the trailer.  There's a tiny opening just big enough to see through at the top but since there is so much junk back there, it's impossible to get to it any other way except via our neighbor's shed and stepping on some old tank he has back there.  I crawled up on the tank and looked into the grass catcher......and there they were.  All 5 kittens, breathing and sleeping in a pile.  I was so relieved.  I guess I didn't give Lois enough credit to take proper care of her babies.  She has no idea that I was back there, not that it has mattered in the past, but for the time being, it's a relatively safe place for them.  They are protected from predators but not the rain.  I suppose Lois manages to keep them warm enough because none of them appeared to be in distress as much as I could see from 4 feet away.  I guess I will have to be satisfied knowing that they are still alive and the weather is back on a warming trend so maybe in a week or so they'll be okay and ready to come out of there where I can get a better look.
As soon as I can get near them again, I will get some pictures and you can see how pretty they are.  To my knowledge, there are 3 females and 2 males this time - at least that's what I determined when I saw them the day they were born.  Lois doesn't mind me handling the babies, she will let me pick them right up from her and she won't ever scratch or hiss at me, so I know that we have a good bond of trust between us and I can't wait to see them again.  Stay tuned for pictures :-)
Happy Easter Everyone!

Meet My Ferals

I have been feeding feral cats in my backyard for a few years now and have met some interesting creatures to say the least.  When my 3 indoor cats were about 8 months old, their mother had another litter outside.  Four beautiful kittens, 2 gray, 2 black.  She may have been mean and difficult to deal with, but she had some pretty babies.  Fortunately, I was able to send the babies to a friend of mine who is a lot more experienced in dealing with kittens and they had a very happy, forever home with her.  However, before I sent them to her, they were about 4 weeks old and mama cat had brought them out for the first time for me to see.  They were crawling around quite unsteadily, but their eyes were open and they were very alert to the world around them.  I had another feral tom cat in my yard show up around that time.  He was a beautiful grayish/brown ringtail tabby.  He just showed up one day out of nowhere and as usual, I was wary of him because I didn't know his personality at all.  He soon proved to be a real pain around those kittens.  It's like he was obsessed with hurting them.  We have a large travel trailer in our yard and the kittens were under it crawling around on an old floor mat for a vehicle and he repeatedly went to them and cuffed them with his paw, sending them further under the trailer.  I got angry at him because they were so helpless and just learning to get on their feet and he wasn't helping matters.  I repeatedly shouted at him "You Asshole!" but that never seemed to deter him.  Go figure!
After the kittens and their mother were gone, this tabby stuck around.  So did the name.  Today, he is affectionately called "Asshole" and while he can still be aggressive at times, I've managed to tame him a bit and I can touch him, cuddle him once in awhile and he seems to really enjoy the attention.
It's been over 2 years since he showed up here and while he doesn't come around as often as he used to, I don't worry about him too much since he seems quite independent.  Here he is, showing off how pretty he is.

Asshole

He has some damage to his right eye.  It doesn't seem to bother him as much as it does me but probably because I don't know what it is.  There's a purplish mark over the iris and it's hard to tell if it's internal or on the surface of his eye.  He showed up a couple of days ago after being gone for a month and the eye was really watery and he was squinting a lot, but he wouldn't let me look any closer so there's not much I can do for him.  Since he's been gone awhile, it's almost like I have to re-tame him again because he's had very little, if any, human contact in his absence.
This brings me to the reason for his return.  I will now introduce you to Lois - my female tortoiseshell.  Lois just had a litter of kittens on March 20th.  Asshole showed up a few days later.  There's something about him and kittens, and I'm wary because I don't know if he will hurt them again like he did the last litter.
Lois showed up here just over a year ago and had a litter of kittens on March 10th.  Five beautiful babies, 3 black, one gray and cream and one orange/white striped tabby.  I named the 3 black ones Owen, Oscar and Otis.  Oscar was the first one to be tamed.  He was absolutely adorable.  He was all black except for some little white wisps coming out of his ears.  I wish I had a photo to show you but at the time I didn't think to get pictures.  One evening I was outside sitting on the ground near where the kittens were playing.  They were about 6 weeks old by then and Oscar came up to me and and I spoke softly to him and started scratching his chin and giving him some love and he just rolled over on his back and let me rub his tummy.  He purred and purred and I fell in love.  The others were a lot more skittish than he was, but probably because Lois moved them around so much and didn't let me handle them very much.  I don't know why Oscar was different but I bonded with him after that very quickly.
The gray and cream colored one was very skittish, I hardly interacted with her at all, but I did know she was female and so pretty.  I named her Opal because when the sun caught her fur, it changed colors constantly like the actual gem.  The little orange/white striped tabby became O-jay.  Not after OJ Simpson, but because it's short for "orange juice".  His fur was so bright orange that it reminded me of an orange so I dubbed him O-jay.  He was also very skittish for a very long time.  Unfortuately, Opal disappeared without a trace one day and I have no idea what happened to her.  I was saddened by this because she was so pretty and I was looking forward to finding her a forever home.  I was certain somebody would snatch up that beauty in a heartbeat.  This was only the beginning of a series of mishaps.
Sadly, a few weeks after I bonded with Oscar, I got a call from a family member one afternoon, that she had found a kitten lying on the road dead and told me to go check on the 5 in the yard to see who was missing.  She was certain it was one of them.  It turned out to be Oscar.  Somebody hit him with a vehicle and it was an ugly scene. He was still warm and we had just returned home from an errand about 15 minutes prior to this and he wasn't in the road then, so I knew it had just been a few minutes since his death.  My heart was broken for him and for me.  Ironically, Otis went missing the same day that Oscar was killed.  First Opal was gone, then Oscar was killed and now Otis was missing too.  I was devastated.  Lois seemed to understand that something was wrong too.  She ran around the yard calling to her babies and only 2 would come.
I still had Owen and O-jay.  Owen was much like Oscar in terms of affection and looks, but he was still Owen and the bond wasn't the same.  O-jay was terrified of me and it was a rare moment when I could touch him, let alone pick him up.  However, I didn't give up on him and would look for every opportunity to pet him and talk to him when I would feed the cats and today, he's my little buddy.  If he's not in the yard in the mornings, all I have to do is holler for him and he'll come running now.  It's so cute and such a sense of accomplishment, knowing he finally trusts me.
Here are some photos of Lois, Owen and O-jay as they look today.

Lois

Owen (big cat) & Rupert (kitten- will explain him later)

 Lois is a tortoiseshell as you can see.  She's quite affectionate but isn't crazy about being held.  I've managed to gain enough trust with her that I can pick her up on occasion, but not for long periods of time.  She's also has a nasty upper respiratory infection that doesn't seem to be treatable.  She wheezes terribly, especially when it's cold or when she's got a belly full of kittens.  I'm having a hard time deciding what to do with her because I really don't want to lose her but I fear that she will only get worse over time.

O-jay

Owen is a sweet little boy.  He's very protective of the kittens.  The one in the photo is his baby brother whom I named Rupert.  Unfortunately, Rupert passed away at the age of 7 weeks due to aspiration pneumonia.  All of his siblings died before him between 4 and 5 weeks of age.  I thought he was going to make it but he got too cold and his little body just couldn't handle it.  RIP little guy.  

Here is O-jay, my other sweet boy. Isn't he gorgeous?  His fur is much lighter now than when he was a newborn, but the name still works for him.  That beautiful tail got broken one time last summer and surprisingly healed very well and he has full use of it now without any issues.  He also had part of his right ear bitten off just after Christmas.  It healed very well but there is a definite chunk out of it now that will never grow back.  Doesn't seem to bother him however, and for that I'm grateful.

Black Butt

Last but not least is a tom I call Black Butt.  He's been hanging around for some time, though I can't pinpoint exactly when he showed up.  He's mean and untouchable.  He has some health issues, so I don't tend to get near him anyway. I believe he's the daddy to Owen, Otis and Oscar and probably the kittens from the last litter as well, at least all the black ones.

So, there you have been introduced to my feral cats.  While I'm not "in love" with them as I am with my indoor cats, I cannot turn my back on them either.  I am constantly checking on them, worrying about them and trying to earn or keep their trust as best I can. I can't help myself - I'm a cat lady :-)

Meet Purrcey, Skittles and Biscuits

My 3 beautiful cats were found by our dog Boo back in May of 2010.  I took her out one Spring morning and she got all excited, pulling on her leash towards the side of our house.  I finally gave in and followed her to see what all the excitement was about.  She made a dash for the hedges on the side of the house and there we found 3 tiny kittens, approximately 5 weeks old, scared and filthy.  There were 2 dark gray ones and a little tuxedo.  I gathered them up, chuckling at their comical attempts to hiss at me, which sounded more like spitting and promptly put them inside a storage container that was deep enough to keep them secure until I could find the mother.  I searched the yard but didn't find her anywhere, which was rather odd.
I had an old pet carrier in storage, so I set it up, put some towels in there, some water and made a tiny litter box for them and ran to the store to get some kitten food and formula.  I didn't have a clue whether or not they were able to eat on their own and I initially attempted to bottle feed them, but quickly found out that they had little teeth when the tuxedo chewed the nipple off the bottle.  I ditched that idea and proceeded to give them wet food.  It was a big hit!  Here is the proof.

Eventually, over the next couple of days, I did find the mother, but she seemed disinterested in these kittens for reasons I will never understand.  She had 2 more with her, a beautiful black/brown one, whom I eventually named Java because of her coffee-like color and a light gray one whom I named Archie.  He had a habit of rubbing up against my legs and arching his back as he did so.

I never did name the mother.  I was able to get Archie and Java adopted out when they were about 7 months old, but I decided to keep the other 3 for myself and they have been a constant source of joy and we have a very tight bond.
Purrcey is my tuxedo.  From the time he figured out that I wasn't going to hurt him, he started purring incessantly.  He purrs no matter what, hence the name.  He is a short-haired cat and has a cute little black spot on the bottom of his left foot, which I call his "panic button".  I press on it in case he stops purring to get him started again.  (Just kidding!).  He's a bit of an aloof cat, wanting affection on his terms, but when he's in the mood, his purring is unbeatable.  He loves treats and he understands that word very well too.

Biscuits is my female and my little princess as well.  She got her name because she loves to "knead" any time I pick her up or she gets on my lap.  Someone told me when a cat kneads like that, it's called "making biscuits", and I thought that it was a unique and rather cute name for a cat - so she became my Biscuits.
Her favorite past time is joining me in the bathroom when I take a shower.  She sits on the toilet lid and waits patiently for me and when I'm through, she gets in the tub and chases the water that's dripping down the walls or from the shower curtain.  She gets very vocal in there as well - more than any other time.
Skittles is my lion.  He started out as a skinny little guy who couldn't seem to keep weight on.  When I had him and Purrcey neutered, he packed on the pounds pretty quickly and decided to grow some fur as well.  He became my fluffy boy.  He's also very affectionate and drools when he purrs.  His favorite thing is watching me wash my hair in the bathroom sink.  He literally sits there on the toilet and watches me intently.  When I'm done, he "helps" me comb my hair by running his paws through it.  It's so cute.

So, there is my introduction to my 3 furbabies.  You will see posts about them scattered throughout this blog as well as pictures as I am able to post them.

Skittles

Purrcey

Biscuits

Until next time~~~~

Welcome to Loving Cats and Kittens.  This blog is designed to provide information about domestic and feral cats.  I will include both personal and professional comments in regards to owning (or being owned by) a cat(s) and the joy they can bring to your life.  I welcome comments, questions and photos if you wish to submit something about your own cats and your experiences with them.