Is it really Christmas time again? It hardly seems like 5 kittens since last Christmas! Just to get us in the spirit …… here’s some of the lovely photos we had from our ex lodgers last Christmas.
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It’s so lovely to see them all settled and happy in their new homes
We also have a couple of cats who’s Xmas wish has come true
Nellie and Puddy both spent quite a while here waiting for a new home and were mentioned in the Autumn newsletter. Delighted to say that they have both now found lovely homes. I’m especially pleased for Puddy as he ended up spending more than seven months with us before he’s found his purrfect home.
nellie supervising signing her adoption forms
puddy guarding his tree
Latest tails
We have a very recent short sad tail of tiny Lucy who came into rescue a couple of weekends ago. She’d been found outdoors alone in the dark on the Friday night. We heard about her on Saturday afternoon and rushed her to the vets. We hoped she was just in shock and dehydrated but over the weekend it became clear she was much more poorly. Vets confirmed on Monday that she had some serious brain damage and had to be put to sleep. It’s the first time in the history of our rescue that we’ve had to have a cat put to sleep.
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So the following Saturday when we heard about Dayzee, a healthy cat scheduled to be put to sleep on the Sunday simply because she had nowhere to go … we leapt into action again and up to Pudsey to collect her. Nothing would bring tiny Lucy back but somehow if we could save Dayzee it could sort of balance things a bit. She wasn’t at all grateful for her last minute reprieve 😉 She sang very loudly along to Classic fm’s carols from Winchester in the car, so loudly in fact that I missed directions from the Sat Nav and ended up stuck in heavy traffic somewhere near Leeds city centre. Her response to that was to pooh copiously and odorously and then grind it into the mesh of the carrier and her hands and feet. After a stressful journey and a bath she’s now settling in and showing a much more loveable side to her character.
on arrival and not at her happiest
Our other happy tail is that little baby Rufus … the kitten we hand reared this year …. has become a permanent resident here. 1’ve been tempted many many times to adopt various cats that we’ve had here in rescue …. but since Flipper in 2012 I’ve managed to resist. He’s the first kitten I’ve hand reared (with lots of help from his aunty Jenny & uncle Rog of course) and that’s created an even more powerful attachment. Perhaps if his sister Rosy had survived it would have been different, and they would have gone to a new home together. Perhaps if I’d not been under lots of pressure from friends to keep him, I may have let him go. It is what it is though and I love him.
There was something about Saturday, I knew something was going to happen. Really it started on Friday when I impulsively bought a spare wheat heat bag ….. or maybe on Thursday when I tidied the cat medicine and health care cupboard and sorted out the feeding bottles. Mostly Saturday had been about cleaning but somehow with phone close and a sense of being on stand by. Part of me told myself I was just being fanciful and a bit dramatic, while another part has learned through experience to trust these intuitions.
At 14:52 the message I’d been ‘expecting’ pinged through from one of my rescue friends in another part of the country. A small kitten had been found outside alone the day before, and taken in but was clearly unwell. She was only about 15 minutes drive from me. By 15:08 we had consent from the finder to sign her over to rescue, had an address and I was on my way, complete with heated wheat bag in the carrier to keep her warm. By 15:47 I was at the vets with her.
Lucy on way to vets
She clearly wasn’t ok, but an examination showed no inflated temperature, heart and lungs apparently fine though quite dehydrated. She explained very loudly and clearly to the vet just how much she didn’t want sub cutaneous fluids.
So we came home and set about sorting the little soul out. She was pretty grubby round her face and her eyes and because she wasn’t able to lift her body properly when she’d wee’d she’d just been lying in it.
grubby x
There was a bit of a dilemma as to whether bath or feed came first. From a purely selfish point of view, I didn’t want to cuddle and feed a stinky kitten. I half persuaded myself she’d feed more happily if she was clean but then decided that the bottle had to come first.
she fed well at first
down to the last drop
It wasn’t easy to get her latched on to the bottle, and she didn’t have a very strong suck, but she made her way through a bottle, and then a bit more. It looked hopeful. Then we started on the bath.
bath
and getting dry
She was good in the bath …. too good ….. it rang a faint alarm bell. She was very sleepy afterwards but flopped wherever I put her, limbs flailing around … another alarm bell. I picked her up to give the next feed, popped her down whilst I sorted the bottle … she scuttled a few feet into a corner, head down. More alarm bells. Picked her up and she fed slowly again. Something about her eyes though ….. she’s utterly beautiful …… but something not right …. but she’s been out all night and cold and dehydrated ….. so ……. hopefully …….
She refused her bedtime bottle, so I tried with the syringe but only got a little milk into her. I slept downstairs on the floor next to her bed. Hoping all the time that she’d become more lively having had some food. Didn’t really sleep. Somewhere in the middle of the night I woke hearing her screaming. She appeared to have grabbed the corner of the crate tray in her teeth and scrabbling with her arms and legs and though she couldn’t get free. Half asleep I unhooked her and put her back in bed.
Still on the roller coaster she has her bottle as normal in the morning, but then refuses the next. Conscious of the risk of her becoming dehydrated again and consequently more reluctant to feed I keep trying without much success. At lunch time I go to take Tibby to her new home, spend a little time helping her to settle and then race back to Lucy. Now very anxious about her not taking more fluid in it becomes more tense. I use the syringe to force milk in, drop by drop, checking each time that she swallows. We spend an exhausting afternoon with her on my lap, syringe by my side, trying each time she was a bit more alert to get a little milk down her.
poorly
In the evening aunty Jenny came over and took her home with her as I was at work on Monday. She messaged to say that Lucy had had a bottle of milk and was having lots of cuddles
It was looking hopeful again.
Then another message to say that Lucy had had a fit. She’d been walking round in circles, pressing her head against objects and then after the fit very floppy. …. but sleeping peacefully. Discussion about whether to go to out of hours vets, whether they could do anything, whether they might just put her to sleep without consideration, whether Lucy might just die quietly without intervention. So painful. Messages in the morning about her having an appointment with our own vet, more discussion, and then the message we were expecting and dreading …..
“she’s gone”
The symptoms and a second vet examination showed she had brain damage, most probably as a result of liver shunt which tends to show itself at her age. It was too late to be able to be sorted out and the kindest thing was to let her go.
Whatever her experience was before she came to us …… something must have been ok for her to have survived and grown to this stage …. and something must have gone terribly wrong for her to be found abandoned out in the cold on Friday ……. we can at least know that she was very loved and cared for in the last couple of days of her life.
Now the bottle neck has eased, we’re settling into a phase of integrating older kittens. I think its something about the time of year (though also about our limited capacity) but this time of year has often for us been about helping kittens for whom things haven’t worked out first time around.
So we started, as in our previous post, settling Holly in with Rufus and our other residents. Somehow, somewhere, she’d survived birth and being weaned, only to end up lost and alone at about 8 weeks old. Rufus, our lone hand rear kitten, was utterly delighted and overly excited to welcome her. It’s a bit odd to think of our tiny baby as the “older kitten” but he’s her senior by almost half her life time. He plays rough sometimes, but she runs back to him to play some more, and then they end up flopped in a heap together.
Rufus & Holly
Humbug’s arrival was interesting, as well as being very hissy/growly. He’s not quite, but almost, twice as old as Rufus …. though he’s small for his age. It’s been fascinating to watch him find his place with Rufy and Holly.
first attempt to play together
He’s gradually making a relationship with each of them. Although he’s bigger, and rougher, they both chase after him to play some more. What I find really interesting is that although when he first arrived he gobbled his food almost before it hit the dish, and still does to some extent, he doesn’t fight the other cats for their food.
Humbug and Holly having supper
In the space of a week he’s gone from needing to be in a crate and covered over to calm him from hissing and growling ….. to just mixing in with the others.
so different now
Brilliant …. sorted …… except this Thursday … a week on from Humby’s arrival ……. Ivy and Robyn came into rescue. They’re a little younger than Humbug, but a bit bigger …. and hissy ….. at least Ivy is ….. Robyn would like to be friends I think. Their mum went into hospital and isn’t going to be able to care for them. Just like Humbug was when he arrived, they’re sweet, but freaked out.
Ivy & Robyn arrive
Déja vu anyone?
Now its Humbug who is waiting to make friends and welcome them. Little Robyn is the most confident, snuggling on my lap and climbing up to the window to see Humbug.
humbug meets robyn
Ivy is a loving little soul too ….. I’m sure of it …… she’s just going to take a few days longer to settle.
You know those times on the motorway where everything grinds to a halt? You shuffle along nose to tail, wondering what dreadful accident lies ahead ……… and then suddenly, as if by magic, traffic is flowing freely again … no sign of debris in the road, no blue lights, not even a traffic cone to hint at the cause of your delay? Well that’s how rescue has been for the last week or so.
nellie waiting
puddy fed up waiting
After months of Nellie & Puddy waiting for new homes, being unable to take any other cats in, and desperately hoping that they may find something before Xmas …. all our wishes came true last weekend. On Saturday a lovely woman came to meet Nellie and fell in love. On Sunday a wonderful couple came to meet Mr Puddy. They’d had their eye on him for a few weeks but were moving house and hadn’t wanted to start the adoption process earlier in case he could find another home sooner. He was a bit dismissive of them first. He’s seen a lot of visitors, but no who’s wanted him. Once he twigged what was happening he got very excited, running from one to the other, just to check they were the right ones for him.
We’ve not wasted any time making use of the space. Last Saturday morning we went up to Leeds to pick up baby Holly who was found dumped at a garden centre that night when it snowed. A friend had kept her safe for a few days until we could get up there. If I’m honest, I’d been keen to have another kitten around here so that Rufus had a play mate. The big cats have been grouchy when he’s wanted to play at pouncing on tails, and have looked at him as though he’s mad when he’s suggested they play at racing up the curtains.
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I said yes to Holly before either of the adults had been reserved as I knew we’d squeeze her in fine downstairs with the resident cats. I’ve lost count of how many other cats I’ve had to say “no” to taking in whilst Puddy and Nellie and have monopolised the rescue rooms. As Puddy’s adoptive parents drove away on Sunday afternoon my phone pinged. An email about Tibby – an S8 cat. There was a complicated history of house moves but it boiled down to her having preferred her neighbours to her own family, and when her family moved house she made her way back to the neighbours. There were various to-ings and fro-ings and it came to a crisis when the neighbours had to move and couldn’t take her with them, and her family had got another cat and didn’t want her back.
nellie signing her adoption forms
So we took Nellie to her new home on Tuesday teatime and went straight from there to collect Tibby. Tricky logistics of starting cleaning the room as Nellie was packing to move out, and then the last bit of cleaning whilst Tibby sat in the car waiting to check in. She’s a little nervous but a very sweet girl.
waiting in the car
checking out the new place
We’ve had to say “no” to a good few more adult cats unfortunately as there won’t be a single room available until Mr Puddy moves. However, we did agree to take in Humbug who is an older kitten. He has an early history that would give a psychotherapist a field day: mother was a dumped pet cat, father feral, Humbug found in a bucket behind a shed with sadly deceased siblings around him. Thankfully he found his way into the care of a kind young woman who has done her best to help him settle into her family ……. but her animal family are refusing to agree to the adoption. It’s a sad little story as the gorgeous little Humbug approaches dog and cat to make friends and they don’t want to know.
humbug arrives
To be honest he’s been a bit of a bug here so far …. lots of grumblings and growlings and Bah Humbugs. Deep down I’m convinced he’s a great guy though. He’s been very loving with me ……. but not surprisingly wary of the other cats here. Once he realises that they’re essentially nice fur people I’m sure he’ll be fine.
As Summer fades and we slip into the season of mist and mellow fruitfulness, the cats here abandon the sunny patio in favour of warm radiators. The nightly arguments about coming in as the summer light fades give way to a welcome committee, already home and waiting for their tea when I get in from work. Much as I love the long summer days, snuggling down and getting cosy with them is a delight too.
Still full but with fewer cats!
I think the main thing about the Summer was that it was “Full” as we said in the previous newsletter. We had Tabbytha & Mowse with their kits, plus little Simon whom they adopted, and Xin and her kits. Despite there being a lot of black and black & white kittens we were reasonably confident most of them would get lovely homes …….. and they have!
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Phew! The ones we were most concerned about though were Tabbytha & Mowse – the farm cat mummies. For a little while there was some hope that they may settle enough to become house cats. Mowse accepted some strokes, Tabbytha was happy to take chicken from my hands. It wasn’t enough though for them to move into the realm of ‘pets’ though. The other option was to look for a safe outdoor home. There are some fab people who help with feral cats: they’re rescued from dangerous inner city areas, transport is arranged and they’re taken across the country to farm homes where people offer some shelter and food as a wage for rodent control duties. For an anonymous feral – trapped, neutered and released into a safe space with some ongoing care its wonderful. Not quite so easy to accept this as the best option for Tabbytha & Mowse who were named and known …. and loved …… despite their fears around people.
We looked at a few possibilities but they fell through, and then a miracle happened. Quite by chance we found the perfect option for them. A lovely caring woman and her father …. up in North Yorkshire, their home county ….. offered a space. It’s not a big anonymous farm ….. but a small stable with rescue horses and where the animals are very well cared for. I could weep for joy and relief when I see the updates from them. They’re loved and fed, but free to do as they please.
Hand rears
These little ones didn’t take up much room ….. but oh boy did they take up time!! They arrived over August bank holiday … apparently two weeks old but only a little bigger than the size of newborns and full of fleas.
The little boy quickly became the model hand rear kitten … he guzzled his bottle down, burped when I winded him, wee’ed when I washed his bottom and started to grow at the pace kittens should. His little sister Rosy flicked her head back and forth when trying to get the nipple in her mouth, and scampered off if not held tightly. It would take 10 times as long to feed her as her brother, but the milk went in and she wee’d and poohed and was active so we were hopeful.
rosy & rufus: little & large
rosy ready to resist her feed
rufus …. the model patient
One awful Wednesday night just over a week after she arrived, Rosy stopped fighting her bottle. I dripped the milk into her mouth and it ran back out again. Over the next few hours she became floppier until she passed away. I was heartbroken, though if I’m honest I didn’t think she’d make it. It was awful to watch little Rufus trying to pat her back into life. It looked like he was trying CPR at one point. Poor little man.
rufus trying
We wrapped her gently ready for a funeral once it was light. She’s buried in a little patch of garden that holds baby Max and his still born sister Minim.
Max’s memorial
I’d have cried all day, but there was Rufus to take care of. I’d arranged to go out to a weekly lunch date / craft group. It had seemed ok when I planned it to just nip out and leave the pair of them between feeds for a couple of hours. Now Rufy was on his own it all seemed wrong. I’m not sure quite how I decided on the compromise …. but ended up packing Rufy up in his carrier with a bottle, lots of baby wipes and spare blankets and taking him off to Rileys & Co for lunch with me. I hoped they wouldn’t mind too much since he was so tiny and in a carrier. To my amazement, not only did they not mind, they really welcomed us and took care of us. It helped a lot with the pain of losing Rosy.
in the parlour at rileys … feeding rufy
That began the weekly tradition of Rufus going to Rileys for lunch and having cuddles with everyone there. He doesn’t need to come with me any longer, he was weaned weeks ago ….. but ……. well ….. he has friends to catch up with.
His besties are aunty Jenny and uncle Rog though …… without them having him (and his sister) whilst I was at work and over some long hard nights early on we’d never have made it.
jenny with rufus
jenny with rosy
roger with rufus
Still full?
Yes …. though in a different way …. We have two adult cats taking up single occupancy of the two rescue rooms which previously held 3 adult cats and 12 kittens between them:
Puddy arrived 6 months ago now: an older lad who should have been big given his frame, but was well underweight, matted jacket and a very very sore mouth. His teeth are sorted out now, his jacket is glossy and lovely, and he’s put on nearly 2kg since he arrived. He’s got on fine with some of the cats here … but not others ….. so we think he’d be best being the king of his own domain.
Nellie holds the other room. She’s about 4-5 years old and played the “possibly pregnant” card to get her rescue space. She wasn’t . … but we don’t begrudge her doing what she needed to do to get to safety. She’s a sweet little cat, but anxious if she leaves her bedroom and starts to hear and smell the other cats.
We’re keen to get them both into homes as they’re fed up and lonely locked away in separate rooms here … and while ever they’re here we’re unable to admit any more cats. Please if you have a minute and a place you can share their adverts … facebook, work noticeboard / intranet we’d really appreciate it. Their ads are under the “looking for new homes” tab here on the blog or on our cat chat page: http://www.catchat.org/eightlives
Fundraising
We had a fabulous night last Saturday at Rileys & Co . Scrumptious Rileys pizza and other tasty bites. The amazing Break a Leg played for us. We had quizzes and the legendary stand up sit down bingo. The best bit of it was seeing so many lovely lovely 8 Lives supporters there, lots of friends we’ve made along the way. The worst bit was when Jenny our amazing fundraiser (yes its the same Jenny that’s Rufus’ aunty Jenny) said what a brilliant job I do and thrust the microphone at me for comment. People who know me through rescue often think I’m confident as I’m happy to chat at length …. serious length! …. about cats. People who know me well know I’m desperately shy. I closed my eyes and waited for the floor to open up and swallow me. It didn’t. I waited a while longer, eyes closed, trying to just keep breathing. All things will pass. I’m hoping we’re now agreed that when it comes to rescue work I’ll just do the cats 🙂
Break a Leg at Rileys & Co
We have our Christmas event on Saturday 3 December. Only about 50 tickets will be available so please book early for a fab evening.
At least that is, its the end of the tails in terms of 8 Lives input to these stories …….. its just the start of several other tails to be told by loving new families.
It’s a tail that for us started almost exactly 6 months ago with a long drive up to North Yorkshire to collect two terrified farm cats, both heavily pregnant. They and multiple other cats had been cared for by someone who sadly was no longer well enough to keep feeding them.
The Richmond 2
I can’t pretend there wasn’t a period of shock and anxiety when we realised how feral they were. Some communication issues had led to us believing they were friendly house cats when we offered the rescue space. When we learned they were in fact farm cats who had never been indoors we didn’t want to lose face by saying no. When we learned that one of them (I never clarified which) had bitten through the hand of the young man who caught her on the morning I collected them I worked hard to compose my face into an expression of someone who knew what they were doing.
For a while the three of us stared at each other in horror whilst we tried to weigh up who was more afraid of whom. After a little while we settled into an relatively easy truce …… I fed them, they didn’t bite me. What happened next was one of the most lovely experiences I’ve had in cat rescue. They gave birth within a week of each other, cared for each other during the births and then looked after both litters of kittens together.
Tabbytha & Mowse with kits
Whilst remaining very wary of me, they didn’t stand in the way of their kittens making friends and having cuddles. I think they appreciated the care that they got and the safe space they had for raising their babies. In return, when we took in Simon, a very young kitten who had been found wandering outdoors on his own, they agreed to adopt him into their little family.
that’s simon, chewing mowse’s ear
There was something quite heartbreakingly beautiful about their vulnerability and caution with humans, their bond with each other, yet their willingness to let their kittens socialise with the humans.
The time came to look for homes: Tomas and Tobias went off first
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Amazingly the mummies were the next to find a home. By chance it was back up in North Yorkshire though some distance from where they’d come from.
Then the rest of the kittens paired themselves off and left for pastures new. Simon & Minnie got themselves a lovely home in S6. Curiously, Simon, the most confident of the whole lot hid behind the sofa whilst Minnie – feisty but more shy normally – scoped the place out. Happily it wasn’t long before they were having cuddles together.
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It was a bit of a while before the remaining four found homes, but when they did it all happened at the same time. Two home checks on the same day, followed by two families coming to visit afterwards, and two rehomings the same day the following week.
Mickey & Millie went first …… and despite their arrival coinciding with hedge trimming outdoors …. they soon settled in
day one
and then started stealing the human’s seat
day 6
and last but not least …… Timothy & Mocha went to their furever home
day one
They’ve all got lovely homes. I’ve had little doubt that the kits would settle happily but I was anxious about Tabbytha & Mowse. Absolutely no doubt that they’d found one of the most lovely caring outdoor homes it could be possible to find … but what if they didn’t see it that way and took off as soon as they were given their freedom? It’s an anxiety I shared with their new humans, and my heart was in my mouth a couple of weeks ago when I was told that the stable door would be opened.
tabbytha
tab & mowse
Clearly we needn’t have worried.
I’ve played this video over and over again …….. can’t quite put into words what it means to have seen them through this journey and know they’re happy and settled now.
Just starting to come up for air in the hand rear episode. It started, as you read in the previous blog, as anxious and stressful, and quickly got worse. After the kittens survived their first nights and vets re-opened after bank holiday so no huge costs for out of hours care… their previous family tried to go back on their decision to give them into rescue. Our vets, having seen the state they were in, the fact that at supposedly 2 weeks old they were only normal birth weight, and they were full of fleas, advised that we shouldn’t return them. The family responded to the care we’d given them by sending the police round and claiming on social media that we’d stolen a little boy’s kittens. A rather bemused police officer quickly understood that we’d saved the kittens’ lives.
In the greater scheme of things its not a big deal ……. but after nights of no sleep, working full time, struggling with kittens at work ….. it added to the distress
Thankfully Aunty Jenny stepped in and had them whilst I was at work
Little boy Rufus responded well and was eager to feed. Sadly his tiny sister Rosy found it harder … it was a struggle to get milk down her and she refused to put on weight.
While Rufy put on 10g+ each day … Rosy resolutely remained at 150g for over a week. She was still active and feisty but just didn’t grow. One heart breaking evening a couple of weeks ago, she wasn’t active any more …… her brother nudged her and cuddled her and tried to get her going again … but to no avail …
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I cried and cried and cried ………….. and then cried some more when it was light and time to bury her.
It would have been easy to fall apart, curl up in a little ball and cry for the rest of the week. However Rufus was alive and needed feeding. So we ploughed on.
Next day we took refuge in Rileys & Co ….. a kitten without his sister, and a heartbroken foster mum. Most cafes would quickly eject animals of any kind, but Rileys aren’t that kind of cafe. We settled down in the parlour, ordered tea and a mug of hot water to warm his bottle.
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Since then he’s been out for afternoon tea every week at Rileys. He’s been one of the most passed around and cuddled kittens ever.
16;20 I receive an anxious message about a 10 day old kitten who is struggling with feeding, though his sister is doing fine.
17:30 I visit the kittens, who I’m now told are 14 days old ….. but only look the size of 5 day olds or less. Manage to get the struggling kitten to start to feed. Offer rescue space for both of them but the owner happy to keep trying with them
18:38 A post on a uk wide cat rescue site flags up a poor pregnant cat desperately needing rescue space I agree to take her and fix a time to collect her tomorrow as she’s held safe overnight but can’t stay where she is.
19:00 I start frantically shifting things around to make a space we don’t really have for pregnant girl.
20:29 Another anxious email ….. this time with worries that the little girl kitten isn’t feeding. I’ve already opened a beer …. so the kittens arrive shortly after in a taxi
21;15 Despite fears that they had died on the journey they arrive alive and agree to a feed. I settle them down to sleep
21:45 I touch them … just to check they’re breathing still
22:15 I touch them again …. just in case
22:45 Ditto ……. and repeat at random intervals
23:15 I check again before getting the next feed ready and then set to trying to sort out how we’re going to manage the pregnant puss on top of everything else.
23:59 They’re both fed, toileted and in bed again ….. ready for next feed. Hoping and praying all ok and that we’ll cope with feeds through the night.
………………..
The night passes …. a blur of two hourly alarms, kitten formula and kettle boiling. The kittens experience the life of a long haul flight passenger as they’re woken at regular intervals to be served breakfast yet again.
him
her
The day begins to take shape around what I can fit in between which feed. The other cat and kittens don’t stop needing care just because these tinies are taking up a huge chunk of time. As it begins to look more like they’ll still be with us when I go back to work I start to try to figure out how best to manage it.
It always seems a bit sad and mercenary to check that the kits are alive before preparing their next feed – but its what I do. I think more than anything its about managing emotions. I’m sure I’m not alone in this pain. That putting everything you have day and night into a tiny being, trying to keep it alive but knowing that the huge effort could hit a wall any moment …… leaving only a quiet burial, then throwing away remaining kitten formula and putting away the masses of bedding ready for the next time. It hasn’t happened yet but its the spectre that lurks behind every alarm call. Somehow looking it in the face by checking on the kits first saves me from the horror of it jumping out at me when I bring them their bottles.
They’re desperately small for their age. We were told 2 weeks old yesterday … but they look less than a week in size to me. A kind of average newborn kitten size would be about 100g. In that first week they usually just sleep and eat and if all goes well will double their weight in a week. So by one week old they’re probably around 200g give or take. These two are 2 weeks old and around 125g. Their eyes are pretty much open so the age sounds about right …
They’ve been quite lively today though ….. ginge has been on an adventure across his cot and quite noisy when its coming up to feed times.
Please send love and prayers / positive thoughts to these little ones as they make their way through the crucial next few weeks.
It’s easy to get caught up in the drama of Tabs and Mowse moving to their new home… and we might slip into it again in a minute ….. but lets just enjoy a slightly calmer rehoming story for a minute. A few days before the mummies went off to their new home, we took Tomas and Tobias (2 of Tab’s kittens) to theirs. Despite their “farm cat” origins these guys have grown up very confident and happy with humans, and their arrival in new home was pretty much ‘normal’.
on the way to new home
Ok …. I say “normal” ….. though I’m not entirely sure how you define “normal” with a couple of growing kittens. Digging up cobwebs in an apparently very clean and tidy house is pretty much average I think. Slightly out of the ordinary was Tomas finding the one gap under the kitchen units that hadn’t been carefully blocked, worming his way in there, and being unable to find his way out. Just how ‘abnormal’ is it to find yourself lying on the kitchen floor on your first visit to a house, next to someone you’ve only met once before? I guess plumbers and the like find themselves in this position all the time and think nothing of it.
Once out, they settled themselves on the little blanket they’d brought from home … and went to sleep. This isn’t entirely ‘normal’ …. I’ve had lots of kittens run and hide, a few start to get into playing but not a pair who just go to sleep in the middle of the kitchen floor. Then again .. they’re two little tom cats so maybe they’re starting as they mean to go on 😉
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A few days later they’d sussed out pretty much the whole of the house … and thankfully not yet broken too much
Finally ….. the numbers were starting to do down … especially once the mummies went a few days later. Starting to think of happy days where I had a bit of space, my bedroom back even – especially since some of the others were also reserved to go to to new homes after holidays
Then we got a message from a young woman who lived in an area that wasn’t very safe for cats. She’d taken in a cat a few weeks ago because lads were kicking her around on the street. She’d been pregnant but most of the kittens had died and she’d been unable to feed the remaining ones. Although a refuge from the cruel lads, her home wasn’t safe because of a dog who went after cats and a toddler who opened doors. Best laid plans of not taking in any more cats fell apart … and Kranji arrived.;
It was ok though because a couple of Xin’s kittens were off to their new home shortly after. Kranji shared my bedroom with Jasper and all was well. Kind of …. I hate to be sexist about this …… but the majority of our cats at the moment are male …. and the majority of our cats at the moment are purry and placid and get along with the others. You can see where I’m going with this. …. these two groups map almost perfectly onto each other. Kranji is very loving with humans but poor Jasper has retreated into his basket having been smacked around the head a few times. Xin is adorable can frequently be heard behind her bedroom door yelling at the kids and clipping them round their ears. Minnie Mowse has taken it upon herself to be the sole guardian of the T&M teams (and Simon) space and growls menacingly if any of the little Xs want to come and join their games. Just as Jasper makes little marks in the wardrobe door to count off the days until his family return from holiday and he can escape, so I count off the days until Minnie’s family come to claim her 😉
Anyway …… Xi & Xosé went off to their new home …
Xi & Xosé in new home
Two down …. so it should be easier. As fate would have it though …. we went straight from there to pick up two of Kranji’s kittens. They’d been hand reared from age 2 weeks, their siblings had died and Kranji just couldn’t cope and someone had taken them on and cared for them. However they were now 7 weeks, weaned and needing someone to find them a safe furever home. Two up
Kranji’s kits
They’re very sweet little boys … but Kranji had grieved and moved on ….. and didn’t want to know. The residents mostly were fine about them being downstairs but Mr Puddy put up a seriously protest … so they went back upstairs. Minnie objects .. but mostly we’re managing. They’re rather conspicuous among the monochrome theme though
…..the day we went to [Scarborough]. I appreciate that the title will be lost on our younger listeners …. but it was the song playing through my head as we drove up to take Tabbytha & Mowse to their new home. Since their kittens have been old enough to be independent (if you discount them trying it on still breastfeeding from Mowse when they’re almost as big as her) we’ve been looking for a suitable home for them. At one stage I’d hoped that they might settle and become house cats, but although they gained quite a lot of confidence whilst they were here having their babies it would have taken a very very special home to give them a chance as ‘pets’.
Mowse rather overwhelmed by kittens
I was anxious about getting it right for them, especially as I’m much more used to doing homechecks than barn/stable checks. A few people voiced an interest in employing them as rodent control experts but for various reasons it wasn’t quite right. Then a woman with a stable near Scarborough messaged us. It was clear from the start that this was the right thing. Whilst we appreciate that there are desperate numbers of feral cats needing safer outdoor homes and many kind people offering such, these girls have been special to us, we wanted something special for them, and we found it. The fact that they were going back to their roots in North Yorkshire (you might remember they came from Richmond North Yorks) was even better.
our precious vulnerable girls
I laid awake Saturday night worrying about how to get them into their carriers. I felt confident I could get Mowse into the queen cage ……. but we only had one queen cage …and Tabbytha likely to be more difficult to ‘catch’ so maybe we should usethe queen cage for her ….. but then which other carrier to use to get Mowse? And which one to try to catch first? The logistics of it all ran round and round my head on nights when I couldn’t sleep. The reality on Sunday morning was that I put a piece of chicken into an ordinary cat carrier, Tabbytha walked in to eat it, I closed the door. Job done. Mowse and the Queen cage on the other hand, took quite a while. Maybe she’d been spooked by Tabs being caught. Thankfully a facebook message conversation with their adopter, thinking about acting as though you had all the time in the world with animals, even when you didn’t, helped quite a bit. Mowse was eventually in her carrier and good to go.
in the car .. good to go
Here they are on the back seat of the car, carriers strapped in with seat belts, facing each other so they know they’re still together, feliway sprayed over them before being covered with a blanket. It amused my work colleagues that my plan for the weekend was to take a couple of feral cats to the seaside. It was less amusing when they began their rendition of a medley of North Yorkshire feline laments ….. sung in two part disharmony as we approached the A1.
Further disharmony developed as Seamus the SatNav and I fell out. I’d been thinking that for Scarbro we’d go A1, A64, but just by chance my lorry driver friend popped up on facebook messages on Saturday night and advised about traffic, roadworks and suggested a different route. So we set off to follow her route, despite Seamus being convinced that A64 was the best plan. At each junction, just above the noise of the feline serenade came the voice of Seamus grumbling “turrrrn around when possible”. Somewhere just beyond Bridlington I swear I heard him slam his map book shut and pour himself a large whiskey.
Finally we arrived at the stables. The woman who had offered them a home was every bit as lovely as I’d hoped, and more so. The stable was purrfect, several times as much space as the girls had had whilst here with us. It had been secured so that they couldn’t get out until they’re properly settled – her dad had been round and made sure of that.
arriving at stable
We let them out the carriers, and Mowse ran up the walls just as she had done when they arrived here. As they settled a little and found the hiding places they called to each other and rubbed their heads together once they found each other.
I’d been hoping it would be ok just to stop for a little while, make sure they were ok …. and …er … maybe use a loo somewhere since we were in the middle of nowhere (city person’s perspective). It turned out so much better than that. I got introduced to the horses and sheep that the girls will share their space with.
And then back to the house for lunch! What a lovely kind invitation. I got to meet the rest of the family who would be caring for our mummies, to meet their lovely chickens and more sheep, and to see the amazing gypsy caravans and carts they’d built.
Such a lovely family …. they completely understood that as far as we’re concerned there’s aren’t “just ferals” …they’re our precious girls. So before I set off on return journey we went back to the stables to check on them again.
mowse moves in
Mowse was around but soon disappeared when she heard us. Tabbytha kept a very low profile. I was confident that they would be fine with these lovely kind people, and started the journey home, with an angry Seamus who was even less happy when I ignored his suggestions and detoured via Filey for a walk on the beach.
8 Lives: Sheffield 8 Cat Rescue 