Never has this been more true than this week at 8 Lives.
On Monday afternoon we were all home, nine residents going about their usual Monday chores and Luci working in the office with me. Then a message pinged through. One of our adopters had seen a very young kitten being given away free on a social media site and had rushed to get her before she came to any harm … and now needed a rescue space for her. We agreed to take her almost without thinking about it … after all … one tiny kitten can’t cause that much disruption can she?
On Monday evening Hanne arrived. She looked so tiny we were worried initially that she was too young to even be eating solid food. However, she quickly polished off a bowl of wet food, tucked into the dry and then moved on to some chicken.
For once we did have a bedroom available that she could go in, but she’s way too small to be put in a bedroom on her own. So we cleared everything off the dining table and set up our largest dog crate on there. She has food and water, litter tray, blanket, toys and a hammock in there and can watch all the comings and goings in safety. That’s her refuge for when I’m out or busy. She doesn’t like it much and shouts in a high pitched kitten voice that carries through the entire house …. and down to the bottom of the garden.
When I’m home and have time to sit down she comes into the lounge to play. She realises I’m coming to pick her up and take her into the lounge and greets me with a huge purr. The aunties of the house, on the other hand, realise what I’m about to do and immediately vacate the lounge and set up camp on my bed. Jerry is often caught napping on the sofa and wakes to find her using his tummy as a trampoline.
We don’t want to risk losing her, so she’s confined to the lounge and the door is closed. There’s a cat flap in the door to go through to the kitchen, but as the door is rarely ever closed, there is a reluctance on the part of some of the family to make use of the flap. There’s also a cat flap from the garden into the lounge. Her play times largely seem to consist of me getting up to let cats into and out of the lounge from the kitchen, and let out cats who have unsuspectingly used the cat flap to come into the lounge from the garden and found themselves in the middle of play group. Of course we can no longer have the door open that leads from lounge to garden. All gettings up to open doors are preceded by having to peel Jerry off my lap before I can move … he’s still working on making up for the cuddles he missed during years of living rough.
We were a little anxious about Jerry at first. Although he’s sadly probably been the cause of dozens of kittens in his street life years, he’s not used to little ones running around his ankles like the other residents are. He’s been surprisingly tolerant, despite the number of times his snuggles are disturbed.
As ever, when it comes to kittens, it’s young Rowan who is the hero of the day. He’s always had a flair for childcare and is the only one that actively seeks Hanne out. He plays with her and washes her. He also teaches her stuff and I fear that by the end of the weekend he’ll have taught her to use the cat flap … then we’ll have to lock both cat flaps in the lounge to “in only” and peel Jerry off laps to stand up and open the doors every time anyone wants to leave the room.
We’ve been quiet on the blog for a while. When we’re very busy we mostly don’t have time to write, and when we have time to write there’s often nothing happening to write about. That doesn’t mean there’s nothing happening of course, but an endless round of litter trays and vet runs doesn’t make for very interesting reading.
This story starts, as so many of them do, with me in my pjs winding down for the night. It was gone 10pm and after a long day at work I was wondering if it was too early to go to bed. Idly scrolling on a local facebook group I noticed a post about three cats having just been left on someone’s doorstep. Knowing how full we were and the challenges of nursing JJ with cat flu in one room, whilst Mavis was unvaccinated (due to a national shortage) in another, I scrolled quickly past. Conscience pricked though, and I dared myself to peek back at the post … the doorstep mentioned was only a couple of minutes away by car, and the owners of the doorstep were clearly thrown into a bit of a panic by their late night visitors. I scrolled past again. Several minutes of intense internal struggle ensued. We had nowhere to put them but what on earth would happen to them if we didn’t take them.
By 11pm, I’d set up the largest dog crate we have in the middle of the lounge floor and been out to collect them. The carrier was broken, gaping open and loosely tied up with an electric cable. I’d thought when I read the original post that it must be kittens to all be in one carrier, however it appeared to be two adults and an older kitten of about 6 months. They didn’t even have enough space to all be able to stand on the floor. It doesn’t bear thinking what state they would have been in if they’d not been found while morning.
The dog crate was far from ideal for them, but they had food, water, and a litter tray in there, and a hammock to add a bit of space on another level. It was cramped and I felt awful about it, but they could be warm and dry and safe and they had about eight times as much space as they’d had an hour ago. They were clearly terrified, so I just slid the carrier inside hte crate, opened the carrier door, closed the crate and covered it so they had some privacy and sense of security.
The set up was difficult for the eight resident cats here too. It effectively cut the house in half as no one was allowed to walk through the lounge. Residents who had been upstairs in bed at 10pm were trapped upstairs, whilst those in the back of the house had to remain there. I was on the edge of tears with the implications of all this, especially when it was added to the movement restrictions we already had upstairs related to barrier nursing JJ / protecting unvaccinated Mavis. The simplest movements around the house involved careful opening and closing of multiple doors whilst stopping any cats dashing through. Of course most of the journeys through the house involved carrying things, making it more of a challenge: coffee mug – tricky, coffee mug plus plate of food – um … I wouldn’t try that, laundry basket – just no!
We struggled to make sense of how three cats could have been pushed into the same carrier and came to be dumped along with a dirty litter tray and a bag of food on a stranger’s doorstep. Had they been stolen? Was it someone maliciously dumping someone’s beloved pets? If malicious, then why leave them on a doorstep with food etc? They looked as though they’d been well cared for.
We posted on our facebook page, asking for any info and for emergency foster homes. We had several sad posts from people hoping beyond hope that perhaps one of them was their long lost fur baby. None of them had a microchip. Despite the post having been seen thousands of times, we received no information about them.
A very welcome post arrived from ‘Aunty’ Jenny, one of our trustees and our amazing fundraiser. Despite having a house full of cats herself, she offered a bedroom for them to stay in. I’ve never been more relieved to find a place for a cat!
We decided that the best plan would be for her to take the two adults, then the kitten could stay here and we’d see if she might be a companion for little Mavis, as they appeared to be a similar age.
They were all still very frighted the following lunch time when it came to moving them into their foster home. An adult and kitten hiding in the carrier still, and the other adult clearly very stressed and hissing and swiping at any fingers that came near the crate. The best plan seemed to be to slide the carrier out with the two cats in, get them securely in carriers, then come back for ‘Slasher’.
I gently removed the lid from their carrier ready to lift the adult out and to my shock realised that there was another older kitten squished right at the back! So there had been four of them in there all along! If you look carefully at the photo above, you’ll see a spare ear at the back of the carrier. If we’d looked carefully at the photo we would have been pre warned too 😉 That threw the plan of the kitten staying here to be with Mavis, and poor Aunty Jenny ended up with all of them.
Once we had them securely in a bigger space we could get a better look at them. There was clearly a mum (Sybil) and her two kittens (Sally & Sid). Plus another adult (Stella) who looked as though she might be related but didn’t quit seem to fit in. We all have (or are!) family members like that I guess.
Sid was clearly not neutered. Given Sally’s size/age we were pretty certain that she and Sybil hadn’t been neutered … both would still have had some sign of shaved fur on their sides. Stella was anyone’s guess. We had to allow time for a potential owner to come forward before arranging for them to be neutered. Then Sybil proved our theory by coming into season. Sid hadn’t shown any sign of having any impure thoughts, but we needed to separate them, just in case. Neither Aunty Jenny nor I had another spare room, but Mavis was just getting over her spay op and was missing her playmates Moses and Marley since they’d gone to their new home. So little Sid came back here for a week while he waited for his op.
If we’d had to choose one of them to be separated from the others, the last one I’d have chosen would be Sid. He’s a very loving little chap when he feels confident. but away from his family and faced with Mavis who was desperate for a play mate, he was anything but confident. Mavis managed to be kind to him despite her disappointment in his lack of desire to engage in crazy kitten games.
He was very relieved to get back to his mam after his op.
It’s been a complicated process getting them all neutered, chipped and vaccinated and ready for adoption, not least because two of them have had to go to another vet practice to be able to get their vaccinations. All almost finished now, just waiting for second vaccinations to complete the course.
Now they’re settled they’re lovely lovely cats. All playful and affectionate. Thankfully they seem to have got over the awful trauma of being dumped as they were. Sid will take a little while to settle and gain his confidence, but hopefully going to a new home with his sister Sally will help.
Their adoption adverts are available on Cat Chat, where you will also find more information about our adoption process. If you’d like to donate towards our care of these poor little ones you can do so using PayPal to email@example.com
It’s now seven weeks ago that I was sitting at home one Friday evening, minding my own business, when a message pinged into our 8 Lives inbox. It was about a long term stray who was injured and needed help asap. As usual we were full … but obviously wanted to help as it was an S8 cat and we aim to go the extra mile for S8 cats 🙂
We said we could help with vet bills etc but simply had nowhere to put him … so would the person messaging like to foster him? This is perhaps the first miracle in the tail. More than 9 times out of 10, if we reply offering help conditional on the other person doing something, even something very simple, we never hear from them again. However on this occasion the person said yes he could do that and would clear space in the spare bedroom for the cat!
The next miracle was that we’d just made connection with someone who is experienced with trapping. So when we realised that the cat needed to be trapped …. we had someone who we could ask for help …. and were delighted when she agreed.
So … by late Friday evening we had a facebook convo with person who had contacted us and agreed to foster, his partner, the person who had agreed to help with trapping and the person who’s garden the cat was mainly hanging out in.
Saturday progressed with messages about sightings and traps, and Jerry (locals believe the cat had been named Jerry before being abandoned about 9 years ago) generally being an arse and refusing to go into the trap. He even strode up to the trapper’s car at one point and sprayed down the side of it. The drama extended into Sunday too, but finally with reinforcements brought in, and a different kind of trap, the cat was in the bag …. so to speak.
Sadly with it being Sunday our regular vets were closed. So Jerry was taken to another local vet who had Sunday opening. Jerry had a huge abscess on his face which was doubtless the result of fighting as an unneutered tom cat. He was admitted to have the abscess cleaned and to be neutered, but they did a basic level test for FIV, found him to be positive and immediately wanted to put him to sleep. We refused to consent to this and were relieved to get him out of there the following day … thankfully now neutered and with his abscess cleaned up.
The wound on the side of his face was shockingly big and deep. Jerry sat miserably in his crate whilst foster carers and I disucssed his ongoing care.
Over the coming days the fosterers spent hours with him, talking to him, helping him to settle. He wasn’t happy though and was weeing on the floor in his crate and getting in quite a mess.
Very relieved to get back to our own vets, Vets4Pets at Milllhouses, with him. They checked his wound, gave more antibiotics and took some blood. So far, all the cats who have tested positive for FIV on the basic test that the other vet did, have come back negative when they’ve had the more specific test which we prefer. Sadly Jerry’s was the first time that that one also came back positive. Being FIV positive doesn’t have to be the end of the world, despite the reaction of the other vets. The really bad news was that the results showed that Jerry was at stage 4 (the final stage) of kidney failure … not only that …. his readings were pretty much off the scale. Our vet said he’d had to put cats to sleep with considerably lower readings, because they were so poorly …. not Jerry though … not at that stage … because he showed every sign of having a good quality of life.
It felt a bit bleak at that point though. We’d been told that his wound would probably take about 6 weeks to half way heal, but possibly longer due to FIV. And looking at his blood results, it seemed he most probably wouldn’t survive long enough to see it heal.
I didn’t want to tell the foster carers at first, because by that stage Jerry had started to make some progress .. he was enjoying being stroked and gaining confidence. I didn’t want them to give up on him. I needn’t have worried … when I told them, they were as committed as ever to caring for Jerry and giving him the best life possible.
Thankfully no one has told Jerry that his blood results are so bad that he shouldn’t really be alive. So he’s just getting on with life, and here are a whole collection of little miracles:
He’s eating well, even the renal food which most cats are reluctant to eat.
He’s putting weight on.
His coat is soft and between him and his foster carers most of the knots are gone.
His face is healing incredibly well.
He’s starting to play a little.
He’s become one of the most snuggly, loving cats I’ve ever met …….. and I’ve met a few x
At his nurse appointment last week for his wound check he was just the most snuggly loving boy ever. His face has healed amazingly well. There’s even signs of a little fur growing back. It might end up being a bit of a comb-over but wow! He climbed up into my arms for more cuddles and gave nurse Sam loads of snuggles.
Clearly the miracle can’t hold forever … he’s a poorly boy …. but perhaps in these remaining few weeks or months we can make up a little bit for the years he’s had to endure living rough. I wanted to add “not being cared for” … but that wouldn’t be entirely true. Many people have been aware of him over the years and have fed him, offered him a little shelter, tried to get help for him. Seeing how loving he is and what a character he is though, its just heartbreaking that he’s spent so many years living rough without the cuddles that he so obviously adores.
We’ve been working from home for well over a year now and have seen a succession of office assistants come and go. What used to be the main cat rescue room in the house is now also my office. We just about manage to blend the two together with varying degrees of success. In some ways its a good thing, or even an excellent thing. Whereas normally our foster cats would have spent almost all the day alone, they now have company and cuddles and I get to work with feline rather than human colleagues, which on the whole, I prefer.
Bae & Bigsby are our most recent temps. They arrived with very sketchy CVs and I suspect neither of them have done an honest days work in their lives. Bae just sat doing her nails, oblivious to the task in hand.
She’s also spent quite a bit of time looking for snacks rather than concentrating
Bigsby has attempted to engage with the filing system … though not entirely helpfully, as he later climbed to the top shelf and descended with considerably more speed than grace whilst I was on a call.
He was asked to come in to discuss his purrformance and appeared gobsmacked that he was actually expected to work.
To be fair to them, then make excellent purry paperweights and are lovely to snuggle during phone calls and Teams meetings. They’re looking for a purrmanent position so if you’re able to offer them something with very light duties and low expectations that is well rewarded with snacks and cuddles …..
It’s six weeks ago today that we brough Zoltan into rescue. She settled in quickly and remarkably well. Such a sweet old lady. We knew she had some health issues, she’d been having seizures for some time, but she made herself comfortable and we started to get to know her, to care for her and love her. She made the end of the sofa her main hang out place.
As with every other new arrival, she was off to the vets for a health check in her first week here. Because she’s 18 and had health issues, she had a blood test. That revealed that she had early stages of renal failure. She took to her renal diet pretty well. As her hips weren’t too good we often fed her in her spot at the end of the sofa, and hand fed the renal dry food. Somehow word got around that Z was getting extra treats, and everyone started lining up for them. In return Zoltan noticed that these ‘treats’ were desirable … and became keen to eat them.
Soon her appetite dropped off though and she became quite poorly. She was admitted as an in patient and put on IV fluids for a few days. During this time she was diagnosed with high blood pressure as well as kidney disease, on top of her epilepsy.
Four weeks ago today we picked her up from the vets after her 3 day admission and she was like a new cat. Before I’d got her bandage off (needs to stay on a little while after coming off the drip) she’d pottered out the door and up the garden. It’s all safely cat fenced, so perfect for elderly and vulnerable cats. She headed straight for the cat mint area, accompanied by her friend Rowan. She rolled around in the sunshine and catnip, loving every moment. It was so lovely to see her happy. She’d been quite subdued since she arrived but this was a true moment of being alive and happy.
At that stage Zoltan had only had one seizure whilst with us so hadn’t been started on medication for epilepsy. The vets explained that they wanted us to witness another seizure so that we could have some idea of how frequently she had them …. so then we could know whether the medication, once started, was actually reducing the frequency. She had the second later that week. That was quite a low point. Although I was next to her when she had it, it took me so much by surprise and the thrashing was so violent, that I wasn’t able to stop her from falling from the sofa onto the footstool and then onto the floor. She seemed to recover from it quicker than I did, and was off to get something to eat whilst I was still berating myself for not having caught her.
The upside of this though was that she was able to start medication and so far as we are aware, had no further seizures.
Zoltan went back to the vets for her second vaccination and a blood pressure check 10 days ago and all was well. Blood pressure back to normal and putting a little bit of weight back on. It was Flipper’s birthday that day and Zoltan joined in their special birthday tea.
The weather has been a bit rubbish, but every time it was nice we’d have the door open and as soon as she smelled the fresh air she was off up the garden to the nip.
Last Sunday she went into the garden but on Monday she seemed more unsteady on her feet and it looked like it might be time to introduce the extra step between the footstool and the floor that we’d created for Henderson. Tuesday her appetite wasn’t too great. I thought I was maybe over reacting, but called the vet and booked her in for Thursday. By Wednesday evening she was struggling to stand up but her appetite improved and she was purring to me for the first time since she arrived. Then her tummy started to be upset …. very upset. I stayed up with her so I could carry her to the litter tray and clean her.
We had a little carry around the garden to the catmint on Thursday morning but she didn’t seem interested. The vets admitted her following her appointment. Anaemia was added to her list of diagnoses, her kidneys had deteriorated more and there were some other worrying blood results. She didn’t pick up on fluids like she had done last time. Her tummy continued to be very upset. It became clear that it was more likely that it was whatever was happening in her brain that was causing these issues rather than renal failure. We kept hoping … a little …. and made preparations for her being discharged today. I got all the cleaning done so she wouldn’t be disturbed by it, and had a bit stack of vet bed and puppy pads ready for nursing her. She’d eaten fairly well thus far, but the lunchtime call today said that her appetite had dropped off and she still had a very upset tum. It was clear that she wasn’t going to get better at home if she hadn’t made any improvement at the vets. We were assured that she wasn’t suffering as such, but wasn’t really aware of or interested in anything. It was clear that in reality the choice was between letting her go now or bringing her home to potentially suffer and then face going to the emergency vets or our vets early next week to say goodbye.
Such a rollercoaster six weeks. Such heartbreak seeing her unable to stand and having to “say goodbye” without actually being able to say goodbye … because it’s still not possible to go into the vet surgery. Such joy watching her make renal food into a value treat for the whole family and seeing her rolling around in the catmint with Rowan.
A couple of Saturdays ago I noticed a post on a rescue friend’s facebook page: “Urgent place needed for two elderly cats … more details to follow”. The details that followed were sad: an 18 year old with epilepsy and a 16 year old with a cataract … about to be made homeless as a result of their family’s own health issues. I couldn’t get them out of my mind. There was no way we could accomodate two elderly cats with health issues who were unlikely to be adopted. I still couldn’t get them out of my mind. We were full and the couple of people I mentioned them too reminded me of that, and pointed out how stressful it would be to have elderly poorly cats. I still couldn’t get them out of my mind.
I tried hard to ignore further posts about them, even when I was tagged. Even I could see that we wouldn’t be able to integrate two elderly poorly cats into the family, and even more so when I learned they were both tortie ladies! Then I learned that although the two cats tolerated each other they weren’t close .. and the situation was pretty desperate. After discussions we decided to offer a space to the older and more poorly of the pair in the hope that someone else would feel able to take the other.
It felt a bit of a risk because Zoltan would have to live in the main living area with the other cats a) because the private rooms were taken by Hollie and Timtam and b) because we couldn’t shut a cat with serious health issues away in a room on her own.
We set up the big dog crate in the lounge as we had done with Henderson when he first arrived, made it as comfortable as possible. We draped sheets over it for some privacy and so that introductions could be made fairy gradually, and last Saturday we went off to collect Zoltan and bring her home.
In the end she wasn’t in the crate long enough to even get round to taking a photo in there. The residents flocked round to have a look at her, and she looked at them. There was none of the usual hissing and grumbling with introductions. Whilst there were only a couple of other cats in the room, I let her have a little potter around. Rowan was very excited … he loves to make friends with everyone.
Zol tried out a few little sleeping spots on the rug but very soon spotted what has become her favourite space on the sofa.
I’ve never seen a cat settle in somewhere so fast. The photo above was taken less than 4 hours after she arrived here!
We set up nice raised bowls for her so she could eat and drink in comfort but the first night Rowan wanted her to come into the kitchen for tea with everyone else. He even let her share his bowl.
Easter Sunday was nice and sunny and we had the doors open whilst outside gardening. Thankful again to have a secure cat fenced garden because it meant that Zoltan was able to go outside into the sunshine briefly.
We were obviously anxious about her health issues. Unfortunately it hadn’t been possible to get a clear history of her epilepsy so we didn’t know what to expect in terms of frequency or severity of seizures or what might trigger them. It was a relief to get to the vet after the holiday and start to find out a bit more and make a plan for treatment. There are some things to be positive about: her basic health check was pretty good for an 18 year old, and her blood results revealed nothing very serious other than early stages of renal failure. Unfortunately of course, our vet couldn’t tell us how often she would have seizures so that’s a “wait and see”. She’s been quite twitchy on and off all week but late Friday night had the first full seizure that we’ve witnessed. She will be started on medication to help with this shortly.
It’s another steep leaning curve and we’re anticipating heartbreak along the way … but for now she’s happy and settling in with her new friends.
I’ve debated about the title of this. Should it be two steps forward, three steps back? Three steps forward, two steps back? Two steps forward, two steps back? I think the ratio of steps has changed over the two weeks I’ve been writing this … we’re moving forwards again 🙂
As many of you know, we’re a tiny rescue with just two rescue rooms. The story since just before Christmas described very simply is: Oliver moved in, Hamish moved in, Oliver moved out, Timtam & Tiktok moved in, Hamish moved out, Albie moved in, Albie moved out. Timtam and Tiktok weren’t getting on so moved into separate rooms. Room turnarounds have been pretty much like a hotel so out at lunch time, cleaning done and new occupants in at tea time.
If you’ve read our previous blog you’ll know that Tiktok and Timtam had been progressing with their confidence slowly but surely. Once we were able to separate them, Timtam’s confidence took many steps forward. Timtam had my office, so had more contact time and after a few days of holding her bladder and appetite during my entire working day, began to venture out of her hidey holes. Firstly she had to be enticed out with a toy, but soon she was coming out of her own accord and was happy to sit at a safe distance, snoozing and making squeezy eyes at me. Tiktok spent some time in his own bedroom to give the rest of us a break from his boisterous antics, but also was invited into the office to attend selected zoom meetings, have cuddles and see his sister. We were (still are) carefully observing their interactions as part of the difficult decision as to whether to home them separately or together.
A further step forward came when little Rowan befriended Tiktok and began to introduce him to the other residents and the rest of the house. It meant Timtam & I could have more time alone in the office and Tiktok could play with the other youngsters downstairs.
It was all going so well, then we had a message from Hamish’s family to say that one of the children was really allergic to him, They’d tried a few things to manage it but it wasn’t improving and he had to come back to us. We were devastated for him. He’d found a lovely home and settled so well into it. For a cat who was only about a year old he’d had so much upheaval. We’re assuming he was born in one home and given/sold to another home as a kitten. He was then found as a stray by someone who ascertained that he’d been abandoned by the previous owner when they moved house. That person took him in and he lived there a little while before they decided they couldn’t keep him permanently. That’s when he first came to us. He was very withdrawn when he arrived here but gradually came out of his shell and started to trust people. He went off to his new home very confidently and settled well. It was heartbreaking that he had to go through another change.
It was a major step back for us too. It’s part of all our adoption agreements that we will take cats back if they’re unable to stay in their adoptive homes for any reason, and naturally we wanted to be there for Ham at a difficult time, but essentially we were having to fit him back into a space that didn’t exist. Those of you who know us know that we have two rescue rooms, one of which (since covid) doubles as my office. Let’s call them A & B .. B is the one that’s slightly bigger and is my office. Tiktok had A, Timtam had B. The seven resident cats have the rest of the house. I laid awake for two nights (not for the first time in rescue experience) trying to work out where to find a room we hadn’t got, turning over the following considerations:
Hamish cannot share with Timtam or Tiktok, or indeed any of the other cats as he doesn’t like them.
Tiktok & Timtam ideally need to be separate because he bullies her and they fight in the night … I did should mention that my bedroom … let’s call it C .. is between A and B … and ideally in the night (when I’m not trying to work out who to put where) I need to sleep rather than listen to feline arguments.
Hamish is going to come back stressed and need support so may be better in B where he has more contact time.
If we put Hamish in B then Timtam and Tiktok end up sharing the smaller room A which doesn’t seem fair.
Timtam needs more contact to grow her confidence so may be better in B.
Timtam and Hamish can’t both have B!
We could separate Timtam and Tiktok by putting one of them in a large dog crate in the same room. Timtam would be better having more freedom but Tiktok will make more noise if confined. But it’s not fair to confine Timtam simply because she protests less.
Perhaps whoever is in the crate woud be better in a different part of the house. Would they get enough attention? How would the resident cats feel if they were in their part of the house? How would the crate resident feel about having resident cats observing them like they were in a zoo? And where would the crate resident be able to exercise?
How/what do we prioritise? The most needy? The one we can rehome most quickly in order to get back to something more manageable?
Are were going to try to rehome Tiktok and Timtam together or separately? That dilemma pre-dates the return of Hamish, but is relevant to choices now.
Would it be possible to build on Tiktok’s friendship with Rowan and move Tiktok downstairs with the other residents? But Rowan is only one of seven residents and experience suggests that not all of them are as keen to play as Rowan. It’s also true that Rowan bullies his sister Rolo in the same way that Tik bullies Tim … so how would that pan out if Rolo has to deal with both of them bullying her?
What if I add C to the equation and put one of them in my bedroom and move downstairs to sleep on the sofa? It’s certainly something we’ve done many times in the past but as I get older my bones grumble more. And who would the bedroom occupant be? And how would the resident cats feel about another cat in their bedroom? And might they start peeing on the bed when they get back in there? I try to protect them from that kind of disruption … this is their home after all.
It rolled round and round my head. How do we get everyone in a space they feel safe, that they have enough contact time to keep making progress and enough room to be able to exercise. How do I ensure I get enough sleep to be able to function in the day job?
In the end we opted to put Hamish in the smaller room and Tiktok & Timtam in my office. We moved most of the office furniture into my bedroom so that there was room to put in a large dog crate in the office. The plan .. and it’s kind of worked … was for Timtam to spend some time safe in her crate, some time free in the room with Tiktok and some time free in the room whilst Tiktok is out playing with Rowan et al. What we’d not quite bargained for is Tiktok wanting to go back into the smaller room because that’s what he’s been used to, and Rowan knocking on that door … mistakenly … loooking to see if Tiktok is playing out.
The other big step back that we’d not anticipated is how stressed and distressed Hamish was on his return. I’d (stupidly with hindsight) anticipated that he might need lots of cuddles and comfort on his return. What I hadn’t anticipated was that he’d spend 48 hours hissing and growling at me, and lashing out if I tried to touch him. I’m fairly certain that apart from the general stress of change, the main issue is that he can smell Tiktok and Timtam in the room.
Should we have put T&T in A and given Hamish the office space? Should we do this now? Will it help settle things or just cause more traumatic disruption.
It’s been more difficult for Hamish than we expected, but the plan seems to have worked better than expected for T&T. Tiktok has built on his friendship with Rowan and managed if not to be best buddies, at least not sworn enemies with the other residents. He’s played a lot downstairs with the others, learned how to use the cat flap and enjoyed chasing around the garden with the other youngsters. He’s confident now with being scooped up and hugged.
Timtam has got braver by the day. Small but noticeable steps. This week has seen the first time she’s run to the food bowl at meal times rather than hiding away and the first time she’s ventured out of her room. She plays more confidently, sits watching me work, still scuttles away when I approach her but when I’m actually touching her she purrs and squirms around really enjoying a snuggle.
It took a week or so before Hamish started to seem like himself again, and he’s not quite there yet, but he’s getting there. Almost exactly a week after he arrived back here he conducted some interviews for new staff on Zoom and has appointed someone/s who he feels will be suitable. Their contract will commence shortly … and we’ll be able to get back to ‘normal’.
A couple of days after Henderson died we were contacted about two young cats who needed to come into rescue. The owner was unable to continue to care for them. They’d been born to her female cat along with several siblings. She’d done the responsible thing in getting them neutered but unfortunately due to her health issues we were told that they had not been handled or socialised.
They were really scared when they arrived here and understandably went to hide. Presumably, apart from a visit to the vet to be neutered they’d never seen anywhere other than the home they’d been born and lived in.
They quickly found the highest and most difficult to access spot in the room and set up camp there. Every time I went into their room that’s where I found them. I know they weren’t always up there as the food disappeared, the litter tray was used … and I’d hear one almighty scramble of fluffy feet as I approached the bedroom door.
On day two they were still there but I think looked a wee bit more relaxed.
I decided it was time to get the step stool and climb up to speak to them. I was uncertain how welcome visitors would be so thought it best to ascend armed with a can of mackerel. I was regarded very warily but thankfully not spat at or swiped at … and the mackerel was well received.
The following couple of days were mainly about thinking of risking leaving the shelf whilst I was in the room. So I sat on their bedroom floor, playing sounds of cats purring to them and chattering randomly to them. It was out of the gibberish that the names presented themselves. [If I’d imagined myself calling the vets about them, I may have chosen differently – it feels a bit like a warm up exercise for choir .. back in the day when community choir was possible]. Tiktok descended …. tempted by food and the lure of a toy, but his sister was much more reluctant. Timtam relocated to the bed/cat carrier whilst I was out the room, but hasn’t been seen without cover whilst I’ve been in there.
We were hoping to delay the visit to the vets for health check etc until they were a little more confident, but unfortunately they were vomitting multiple times a day, and on one particularly sicky day we decided to grasp the nettle and go sooner rather than later. Our poor long suffering vet was confronted with the challenge of not even knowing which of them was his patient … as I’d not caught either of them in the act.
I thought at first that the vet appointment had set us back hugely. They dashed straight back to base camp when they got home.
But then, not many minutes later, this happened …
You can see on the video that Tiktok has quite a bit of fur missing or just very thin. It appears to be flea allergy. They were both scratching like crazy when they arrived but this has stopped since having flea and worm treatments. Timtam’s fur seems in better condition … or perhaps we’ve just not had quite such a good look at her yet.
They’re both continuing to progress but at very different rates. Timtam will now take chicken out of my hand, and has gradually built up her confidence to be able to put her head beyond the cover of the carrier to retrieve chicken. I hasten to add that the bandaged finger was entirely unrelated to felines, and was a result of an unfortunate “butternut squash / veg peeler interface” incident.
Tiktok meanwhile, is tons more confident and often climbs on my back whilst I’m leaning over to speak to his sister in the carrier. His learning curve is currently focused on getting used to being picked up and cuddled … oh and not being an arse when I’m trying to encourage Timtam …. see next video 😉
They’ve been back to the vet again this week to be microchipped and start their vaccinations. The sickness has settled with steroids and a sensitive tummy diet. They’re not advertised for adoption as yet. Now we have another space available we’re going to separate them for a while to see if Timtam comes on in confidence more if she’s away from her brother.
TimTam moved into my office space at the weekend., leaving Tiktok behind in the cat room. So she had a couple of days to settle in there before starting work on Monday. She’s been a very different kind of work companion. She’s sat in her basket on top of the filing cabinet, in complete silence … all day. It’s made working much easier than sharing with some of the others, but I’ve been worried that she’s not moved at all. I put a few pieces of dried food in for her between meetings, and made sure I left the room for a while in case she was bursting for a wee.
By Monday evening I was getting quite worried. I’m not sure she’s like anyone I’ve ever met before. Normally cats respond positively to a fuss or there’s a bit of a fight or flight reaction – they walk/run off or hiss / swipe etc. Right from the day after their arrival she’s been allowing me to stroke her but showing no response at all. Was this a freeze response? Was she sooo frightened she daren’t run or fight? Then again she’d eaten treats and chicken whilst I was stroking .. so surely she couldn’t be that scared. It reminded me of how Henderson often was when he was poorly and not really responding to affection. However she’d seen two different vets by then and neither thought there was anything seriously wrong. I’d really hoped that a few days away from her brother, and a full day of us working together would have made some change … that at least she’d have come out of hiding for a snack or a wee.
Feeling quite despondent, I started thinking about who I might talk to about behaviour for any more advice and begining to frame a message in my head. I climbed up [I seem to have spent an inordinate amount of time standing on chairs since these two arrived] to give her one last stroke before leaving her for the night and going to write messages. It felt a little different. I thought maybe I’d imagined her jaw leaning into my hand a little as I stroked her chin. Wishful thinking. Then I thought I heard something, very slight, like the echo of something that might have been.
It took a few minutes to believe it, but Timtam was purring and enjoying a snuggle. That felt such good news and even better that it was repeated each time I reached up for a little head rub during Tuesday. After work on Tuesday when I climbed back up for a proper stroke she was shuffling around a bit and I was concerned maybe she was trying to get away …. until she settled herself on her back for a tummy rub! ! !
Today has been a non work day so she’s had a bit more time to herself. However there has been more progress. Today is the first time that she’s jumped down onto the floor whilst I’ve been in her room. She was excited about the toy she was watching and in the end couldn’t resist coming down. We tried to play but we kept catching each other’s eye and realising we were both watching each other more than the toy.
After nearly four weeks it’s feeling much more hopeful with Timtam. Meanwhile, Tiktok is just kind of like your regular friendly crazy destructive ‘kitten’. He’s stopped being sick, his fur is growing back, and it’s difficult to remember how timid he was at first.
Our precious Henderson died on Tuesday, a week shy of the fourth anniversary of him arriving here. When we picked him up back in 2017 he was seriously dehydrated and collapsed. We believe he’d been dumped at the side of the road as there was no sign of an accident and he wasn’t strong enough to have walked there. He was taken immediately to the vets and was named on the way after the old Henderson’s factory that we passed, because he needed to be a someone by the time he arrived there and not just an unwanted poorly old cat.
He laid on the examination table, unable to stand, but purring so loudly. In a rush of emotion I said to Dr Tim that if he survived the night he would be staying here with us. I like to think that he recognised that he was being offered a good deal. I stood by my promise and he stayed around for another four years to fully take advantage of it.
Dr Tim guesstimated him to be fourteen when he arrived, though he could well have been quite a bit older, or maybe it was just having a rough life that had aged him
The other residents here decided that they liked him immediately, and all subsequent guests and residents have loved him too. There are always some squabbles and factions in a multi cat household, but Uncle Henderson was everyone’s friend. Everyone wanted to sit with him and do head bumps with him. He was a great favourite with any small kittens that we fostered, a lovely steady furry presence to snuggle up to.
After a few months here he was diagnosed with hyperthryoid and then a couple of years ago with chronic kidney disease. He steadfastly refused to read the text books about either of these conditions and resisted conforming to any expectations of the courses they would follow or the impact of the various medications he was given.
We celebrated Christmas 2019 believing that neither he nor his friend Jango would be with us for Christmas 2020. Henderson pursued a new lockdown hobby of collecting diagnoses and early in 2020 he added high blood pressure to the list. He started to drink more and more during lockdown (only water – unlike the rest of us!). We feared his kidney disease was getting the better of him. Then one dreadful week in May he was very poorly and we decided that despite the vets only being open for emergencies, he needed to be seen. The next day Jango died very suddenly. The following day Henderson was admitted as an inpatient and we thought we were going to lose him too.
The next day was Flipper’s birthday and we usually make a bit of a do of it because she’s the only one of the residents who’s birthday we know for certain. The celebratory ham was put on hold in the freezer and we sat and waited for news. We had that awful conversation with the vet about needing improvement in the next 24 hours or we’d need to be thinking about saying goodbye. Hendo had other ideas though … as usual. Instead of saying goodbye he had a nice week being pampered by his favourite nurse, Sam, and arrived home for a delayed birthday party … with a diagnosis of diabetes.
Of course he didn’t read the textbook about diabetes either. His blood tests (both the blood glucose ones we did at home AND the more comprehensive tests done at the vets) were all over the place. I suspect he simply didn’t revise properly and then just guessed at random numbers when it came to the test. The vet team have been brilliant with him but often the interpretation of the results just seemed to be that he shouldn’t actually be alive with whichever levels he was running. He was though … and we adored him for it.
He chose the anniversary of my father’s death in July to throw himself at death’s door again, occasioning yet another sleepless night on the sofa with him, followed by another inpatient stay. He returned from that one with a diagnosis of anaemia ticked off in his collection.
We bought a heat pad at the beginning of last year mainly to help with Jango’s achey joints. It was so popular that we bought a second one, and Henderson claimed that. He found he had lots of friends keen to share that with him.
As he became more frail, he spent almost all his time on the heat pad, only leaving it for food and litter tray. When it got too difficult to jump up onto the sofa where his heat pad was, we put a footstool there to give him a step up. When it got too difficult to get onto the footstool we put some boxes there to give him a step up to the footstool. When he started to get a bit muddled (or maybe his eyesight was failing) and sometimes set of over the side of the footstool rather than down the step, we set up a crash pad of blankets on the floor. By that stage I spent most of my time sitting next to him and lifting him up and down as required.
Each day for many months has brought it’s worries about him. Each day has largely revolved around him. Each morning we’d be up in time for his injection and each evening not settle down while he’d had his second injection. As time has gone on I’ve found that I’m watching him and checking on him most of the time: lifting him, cleaning him, doing medication, injections, blood tests, eye drops, encouraging him to eat, taking him to the vets, making and keeping him safe and comfortable. It’s completely been worth it, I don’t regret a minute of it. I wasn’t on my own caring for him … the others sat with him, purred to him and washed his head.
His popularity within the family soared as we fussed around him, opening one pouch after another to tempt him to eat. He liked to take just one or two mouthfuls before moving on to the next dish. We called it the ‘Hender-buffet’ and the others flocked behind him to eat what he left. I’m amazed by how generous they were. They waited while he’d finished before tucking in, and if he wanted what they were eating they dropped back and let him. You could knock him over with a friendly head bump so it would have been no effort to stop him if they’d wanted to. We established a family tradition of serving chicken or other treats after his evening injection. Very soon, like Pavlov’s dogs, a queue of hopeful cats began to form at the sight of syringes and insulin bottles.
We were amazed and delighted to still have him with us for Christmas 2020, though I wept when I saw the difference between his Christmas photos of the two years.
On Tuesday morning he really wasn’t himself. He’s gradually got more and more frail to the point where it’s hard to imagine how much more frail he could be whilst still staying with us. He refused to eat at all, not even his favourite foods, not even when they were hand fed on his heat pad. Thankfully that day I could just bring work downstairs and sit with him on the sofa. Although we called the vets for advice we decided not to take the appointment that was offered. There was no treatment that was going to make him well again, he was warm and comfy on the sofa and showed no signs of distress. I’d said to him a couple of days previously that if he wanted to go and be with his friend Jango that that would be ok. I think he’d decided now was the time.
He passed to rainbow bridge lying on his heat pad on the sofa next to me, with some of his feline friends around him. We cleaned him up and wrapped a blanket round him and he stayed here overnight for lots more cuddles and so that the rest of the fur family could visit him and pay their respects. Then a final journey to the vet and a tearful handover to nurse Sam on the car park. He’ll be home next week and sitting on the shelf with his mate Jango.
Thank you the team at Millhouses Vets4Pets for your care of him (and us!), especially nurse Sam and Dr Tim. Huge thanks to my lovely friends who have dared to ask regularly “How’s Henderson today?” Thanks also to our wonderful supporters who enabled us to give this lovely old boy some love and happiness in his twlight years.
[Piper came into rescue in mid October. She was quite handful here to say the least. Full of boisterous kitten energy, very loving and wanting attention but clumsy and lacking in socialisation having left her mum too young. It took a while to find the right home for her … somewhere that could give her sufficient attention and who had enough patience and cat experience to continue the process of socialising her. A couple of weeks ago though we found a fabulous, purrfect home for her and her adoptive mum has sent this update to share]
Piper has been with us a week now, but from the get-go she was confident and comfortable with us. First contact was with our daughter (14y/o), who was thrilled. We let her have the run of the house up to the attic and she soon discovered a small crocheted ladybug I’d made on the stairs; this and the subsequent small crocheted balls I made her are her favourite toys. The game is to throw it up in the air, play a bit of football then bat it under one of the sofas. If we are not fast enough to get them out, she discovered if she jumped down the back of the sofa she could retrieve them herself 😹. She is a clever kitty.
Piper’s week days start by having breakfast with my partner and our daughter, then when daughter goes to school she comes up to my attic office. We play a bit (while I work; cats cradle tied to my wrist is great entertainment) then she jumps onto the bookshelf to look out of the window, tips a few books off (clearly to read later) then has a snooze on the futon, joining me in any Teams meetings I have.
In the afternoon she will go downstairs and either sleep in her bed by the radiator in my partner’s dining room office, or on the sofa in the lounge. I’ve made a nest in an open bedroom cupboard for when she needs some Piper time, but she mainly likes it on the sofa. She will run to us if we call her name (and rattle a box of treats) and likes playing with the various small crocheted things on the stairs (many an Xmas 🌲 has been felled…).
At night she firstly slept on my partner’s lap after I went to bed, but now she will snuggle with me and we fall asleep together, until her dad makes her supper and she goes downstairs. She has her big fluffy blanket by the dining room radiator and sleeps to about 6am ish, though our daughter said she started mewing at 5.45 one day!!
We love everything about her; her purr, the teeny mews she makes, the chirrups, putting her paw on your shoulder to say hi when she is on the back of the sofa, her rapid ninja swiftness (I’m on my own, look down and there is Piper looking up at you with her beautiful eyes), her intelligence and her beauty. We all love Piper and are glad 8 lives made us a family 😻. 🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈
Huge thanks to Piper’s new family for giving her such a lovely home .. and to Piper’s adoptive mum for guest writing this blog post.