the end and the beginning

One of my cats died today. Sad, yes, but unexpected, no. Misty, one of the cats that came with my house, was old, going through renal failure, and weighed less than five pounds. The meds I gave her everyday were the only thing keeping her alive. So last week, when she stopped eating, began stumbling, and her skin turned leather-like and glued to the bone, I knew her time to die was fast approaching and that no more meds would fix her. I brought her to work on Friday thinking she needed to be put down. She pepped up a bit at the clinic though, devoured food and began snuggling. We decided that though it was time for her to die, it didn’t seem like quite the right day. We’d take her off the meds (which she hates more than anything), I’d take her home and spoil her rotten, and she’d die on her own a few days later. It took her three days. The first one was a good day, the second not so much, and the third (yesterday) was awful. I swore to her last night that if she wasn’t dead by morning, I’d take her in to be put down. She just laid around for hours with her eyes wide open in a blank stare. It was hard to watch. I guess when they are that near death (in her case a few hours), they zone out completely and their mind goes somewhere else. Regardless, I wish I had just put her down. Friday was a good day for her though, so I’m glad she at least had that. And now it’s over. She’s not suffering anymore.

I signed Haley’s adoption papers this morning. It’s funny how things work out. The same day Misty dies, Haley officially becomes a member of the household. It reminds me of a cat I had growing up (who we had since before I was born and who made it until a month shy of my 18th birthday). A few weeks before he died, we took in another cat, and she ended up being exactly like the one who died in so many ways. And though they were never particularly close, she stayed with him and snuggled him the night he died. I hope one of the other cats did that to Misty last night. When I found her dead in her cat bed this morning, she was covered by a poster that had fallen off the wall. At first I was mortified and felt horrible that it had fallen on her, but then I began to see it as the world’s way of covering her up. Like she spent her last few hours, she died with her eyes open. And I’m kind of glad that poster, which had never fallen before, decided to fall last night and blanket her in her death.

Filed under: cats

relocation

Sixteen feral cats from SLC were relocated down here to southern Utah this week and I tagged along to photograph. The caretaker of their colony up there died, and local animal rescue workers brought them down here, where a kind farmer named Larry agreed to watch over them. He has a farm deep in the heart of Johnson Canyon, an hour removed from any sort of traffic. For the time being, we moved them into an enclosure where they will spend the next two or three weeks, acclimating to their new home. Then they will be released where they will have the run of the place. Since they’ll have spent so much time in their enclosure, the hope is that they won’t roam too far. The borders of Larry’s gardens are fenced in a way that the cats can get through, but coyotes can’t. So if they do wander out into dangerous territory, they can get back in. It’s a very different life out here from their former alley cat existence, but it’s a better one, and I’m sure they’ll love it. No more dodging cars, no more cold cement, just great views of the backside of Bryce Canyon and endless fields of green to romp through (with a mouse to catch every now and again). Yes, it’s a good life in the country.

More photos here.

For anyone needing a basic feral cat rundown, here is what I can offer. Feral cats are cats that want nothing to do with humans. Not all stray cats are feral cats, but many are. Ferals are the ones you can’t touch, who will scratch you to death if you try to, who will run at the sight of you. They are wild, pure and simple. They have grown up without human contact, and they would like to keep it that way. There is a huge overpopulation problem with feral cats though, and because of this, they tend to get a bad rap. TNR is how we address this. Trap-Neuter-Return. You trap all the feral cats in a colony, get them fixed, and then let them go back. This way, they can’t breed, but they live out their lives. If you just kill them, new unfixed cats will move into their colony and the problems start all over again. Also, providing them with food and water will keep them from digging in garbage and causing a ruckus in neighborhoods.

Filed under: best friends, cats

cat ladydom, episode two

Just call me the Queen of Puke. It’s very fitting. I clean up so much puke, it is ridiculous. Sometimes I wonder if all these cats are really worth the cheap rent (but then I remember how much richer I get every week). Last Saturday, I cleaned up at least ten piles of puke within a few hours. This morning, aside from finding more bloody puke (I say “more” because I already cleaned up bloody puke on my kitchen chair and floor last night), another cat puked on my lamp cord while I was brushing my teeth a few feet away. Luckily, this entire house is tiled, and so cleaning it up is as easy as a swipe of a paper towel and a Clorox wet wipe. Hallelujah for tiled floors and Clorox wet wipes!

If you’re wondering why there is so much puke, most of it is hairball puke. My two cats have never had a hairball in their life, so this is all very new to me. And if you’re worried about why one cat is puking blood, that is also probably hairball-related, and he is in the kitty hospital up at work right now.

And then of course, there’s the cat hair that’s not in the form of puke. I feel I have this aspect fairly well managed though. I have a Furminator (hallelujah!) and use it often (hopefully often enough to cause a cessation in hairballing all together). I sweep a lot, and pick up random furballs, so the only hair is that on my bed and futon. I keep both covered with an extra blanket now.

And what cat lady would be complete without potty problems? Aside from the occasional randomly placed turd, one cat has decided they prefer cat beds to litter boxes when it comes to doing number one. And sometimes rugs. Hallelujah for my own personal washer and dryer! And again, for tiled floors. AMEN. You’d think six litter boxes would be enough, but I guess it’s not good enough for them. And if I don’t clean the litter ten times a day, I tend to get overwhelmed with piss and crap, in and out of the litter box.

So… who wants to come over to my house?!

Filed under: cats

cat ladydom

It’s official. I’m a cat lady. I’m far too young for this, but as of yesterday afternoon, I have nine cats. Yes, nine. Stella, Baby, Jack, Tabasco, Sammy Sumo, Kizzy, Beauregard, Sonoyi, and Misty.

So what gives… how do I go from having two cats to having nine? Well, it’s my house. My house came with seven cats. If you’re wondering how on Earth a house comes with seven cats, it’s because a lady died and left her house to Best Friends on the condition that her cats get to stay there. And I’m the lucky one who gets to take care of them. Lucky to be a cat lady? Yes, lucky. And for $200/month rent, you would feel lucky too. With any other place costing at least $800/month, $200 rent is worth having nine cats… especially when all cat expenses are paid for. I just have to scoop poop, and give them food, meds, and love.

I moved in about two weeks ago (with my two cats), but just got the other seven this week (two on Monday and the other five Friday), because I was waiting until the construction was done (this house was recently gutted and redone). Here in Kanab though, things never work out on schedule (did I mention i was supposed to move in mid-May?), and the house still isn’t completely finished. Finished enough though and the cats can deal with it.

I’ve definitely been a little nervous about introducing seven new cats to mine, but now that they are all in here, there is plenty of room for everyone. It’s a big house. We’ve had a few scary moments, but even at just a day in, things are looking promising.

And so, without further ado, let me introduce you to the crew…

This is Jack. Jack is my favorite. He is one of the most laid-back, awesomest kitties I have ever met. Words can’t even describe how awesome he is.

Sammy Sumo, affectionately referred to as Thammy Thumo, is the FATTEST cat I think I have ever met (and I have met a lot of fat cats). This photo doesn’t really show it, but you’re gonna have to trust me that he is the width of at least two or three normal cats, and has Arnold Schwartzenegger’s shoulders.

Tabasco, also known as Asshole Kitty, scares me. He is the tyrant of the house and rules with a heavy fist. He picks on the other cats and even attacked my leg to the point that my jeans now have bloodstains. He is an uber-sweetheart when the other cats aren’t around (snuggles me like crazy), but if he sees a cat playing on the other side of the house, he may just go investigate and attack. He gets locked in the bathroom when he does this, and spends the night in there by himself to ensure no catfights occur while I’m trying to get my beauty sleep.

Kizzy is very sweet, and very soft. She likes to hide under the bathroom and kitchen cupboards. I wish she wouldn’t hide so much, but in time I’m sure she’ll show her face more.

Beauregard has cancer. I’m told he’s the lover of the bunch, but I haven’t really seen that yet. He’s not too happy with the current situation and likes to hide like Kizzy. In time…

Misty is a bag of bones. She is old and in renal failure. I have to give her subcutaneous fluids everyday, an additional injection through the fluids IV drip, and medication twice a day.

Sonoyi. Sonoyi was my mortal enemy when I first got him on Monday. He didn’t like me and I didn’t like him when he yowled all night long. I got no sleep. I bought ear plugs the next day and can only sleep if he is locked in the cat room on the other side of the house. He has since stopped yowling as much, and has taken a liking to me. He has a huge jaw that reminds me of Scar from the Lion King. He needs fluids every other day and medication twice a day.

And of course, there are my pumpkins Baby and Stella. They are doing really great throughout all this. I was amazed at how well they did at first when I got Misty and Sonoyi on Monday. Key words being “at first.” I guess as long as Misty and Sonoyi stayed out of the bedroom, all was well. But when Misty tried to walk in, Baby flipped out and all the cats started to hate each other. But after a few more days, things settled down. When the other five arrived yesterday, Baby alternately hissed and rubbed up against Sammy Sumo. This is what she does to dogs, hiss and rub. I suspect she simply thought Sammy was a dog. He is that fat. This morning, Baby relinquished the dominance throne to Tabasco, and the whole house is much more harmonious because of it, but he’s still an asshole and can strike without warning. We aren’t in the clear just yet. And until we are, my darling two get me and my master bedroom all to themselves at night.

Filed under: cats

feline friends, oh how I love thee

Filed under: best friends, cats

kitty disguised as black bear

After taking this photo of the hidden kitty this morning, I peeked inside the bear box to meet the furry friend I had just photographed. I was delighted to see that it was my beloved Cooper, one of my absolute favorite felines at work. I actually squealed a little bit. I didn’t recognize him in that little box nor expect to see him there. Since he first arrived at Best Friends from a massive hoarding situation, he had been living in the yurts (where all the cats from that rescue have been), but was recently moved to a different building. The last time I went to see him in the yurts, he wasn’t there and I didn’t know where he was. I wish he had been adopted, but at the same time, I was very happy to see him today. Like whoa. Cooper is my boy. I LOVE him… my little black bear.

Filed under: best friends, cats

fatty, fatty, two-by catty

The other day, I was asked to photograph the fattest cats at the sanctuary. This was no easy task. That whole rule they say about the camera adding ten pounds apparently doesn’t work for cats. It’s exactly the opposite. Wide-angle or long lens, the camera tends to make even the most portly cats appear slender, or at the very least, not obese. I went building to building meeting fatty after fatty, each one seemingly fatter than the last. But the fatter they got, the skinnier they seemed to look in the camera. I could not for the life of me take a photo that showed the true fattitude of these fat cats. But then I met Peppermint Patty, by far the fattest of the fat, and even though she looks skinnier in the photo than she actually is, she still manages to look fat.

the fatty herself

Jessica

Wrigley and O’Malley

Tom

Mr. Catrick

Want more fattitude? Make sure to check out these links:
Food-filching cat gets stuck in doggie door
33-pound cat the equivalent of 600-pound person (and make sure to check out the slideshow)

Filed under: best friends, cats

a much-needed haircut: feline edition

Well, it’s been almost a year since Baby had a haircut and I’m pretty sure if Locks of Love had feline program, Baby could provide for at least 20 wigs. The cat has so much damn fur that it’s not normal. I am constantly picking up furballs around my apartment on an hourly basis. In ten minutes of brushing, I have to empty the brush five times because so much hair is collected that the brush becomes incapable of brushing. At the advice of Molly, I went and added a Furminator to my Amazon shopping cart, but I can’t even wait that long to get it. Something had to be done… now.

I went and bought a buzzer since she has some mats on her back that are down to the skin. I planned on giving her a lion cut, but she is so against getting buzzed that I had to call it quits after a while, leaving her with what would in human terms be the equivalent of a vacuum cleaner haircut.

But now I think it is pretty safe to say that I will not be picking up furballs tomorrow, and the fact that I can say that brings a huge smile to my face. Looking at her pretty much guarantees a laugh too.

before and after

Filed under: cats

bad-mouthed, honky-tonk kitty

It has been a very big week for Stella. I’ve had a few very big revelations regarding my darling kitty’s health and heritage.

Last week, I happened to overhear a statement linking chronic upper-respiratory infections in cats to untreated dental problems. I don’t even want to think about what would have (or wouldn’t have rather) happened if I didn’t overhear that statement.

See, my Stella dear has had chronic upper respiratory problems her whole life. Vets back in Minnesota (I had like five of them) all told me she was perfectly healthy… just a sneezy, snotty kitty who may always be so. They also never said anything about dental problems, even though her front teeth were mangled (and eventually fell out). Well, I’ve come to realize most vets are idiots (or at least untrained in all things dental). Turns out Stella’s mouth is in VERY bad shape, and the recent relapse of upper-respiratory congestion has been because of it. One of her fangs has come completely out of her jaw and is sitting in her severely-receded gums, several other teeth are black at the root, and her gums are all swollen. She has snotting and hacking attacks, and has a hard time eating.

The good news is that we now know about these problems and they are being dealt with (albeit four years too late). She is now on a hefty regimen of medication, including antibiotics, pain killers, and an oral gel. In June (or earlier if she takes a turn for the worse), she will have most (if not all) of her remaining teeth pulled.

She really hates all the medicine, but it is working wonders. I have to give her four huge pills a day, an oral injection twice a day, and an application of oral gel to her gums twice a day. The gel is her least favorite. She really hates the pills, but well, this is what happens when I give her the gel….

It’s really quite sad, but it’s good for her. Because I feel so bad for her, I gave the gel to Baby as well one day, just so she could get a feel for what poor Stella has to go through… and well, Baby foamed at the mouth too. It was hilarious. It’s okay for me to laugh at her. She is perfectly healthy.

So then today I had another huge revelation. It actually started brewing on Sunday while I was on assignment in Vegas. I was chatting with my photo subject at her house, looking at big animal books (the ones that are like four feet tall), and one was about cats… every few pages dedicated to a certain breed. And well, we flipped a page and there was a breed of cat I had never heard of, but one I recognized instantly.

I had always thought of Stella as a mixed-breed (though predominantly Siamese) barn kitty. But well, after much investigation, I’ve come to the conclusion that I think Stella is purebred… Tonkinese.

Stella came from a ranch out in the Black Hills where they have a set-up allowing people hauling horses into the Hills to camp out on their land with the horses. Because of this, huge trailers were always coming in and out of their driveway. Stella was always in the middle of the road. She loved people, unlike all her feral family members, and knew that standing in the middle of the road brought people out of their trucks to her. Fearful for her life, my mom’s friend brought her to my mom, knowing that I was waiting for a kitty who needed me to come along. It was Stella. I drove out a week later and met my darling new kitty, who my stepdad was calling Bugsy, because her eyes bugged out from her malnourished body. It was love at first sight.

I was telling someone recently about Stella and where she came from, and they said that there is no way she was a wild barn kitty. They believed someone must have dropped her off at that ranch. I don’t understand how or why someone would do that, but as of today, I am starting to see that as a more likely possibility.

See, if you browse the websites of Tonkinese breeders, you will find spitting image after spitting image of Stella. I had never in my life seen a cat that looked like Stella, but nearly every one of these Tonkinese cats could be her identical twin. Compare every marking, read every personality trait, it is all a spitting image of Stella. She is no mixed-breed.

So now I am left wondering how this beautiful, seemingly purebred Tonkinese wound up with a bunch of black and orange feral barn kitties. The only thing I can think of is that to a breeder, Stella wouldn’t be an example of a fine specimen. See, sometimes, she can get a little cross-eyed. It’s not all the time, but it definitely makes an appearance every once and a while. She also had her mangled teeth when she was younger. All I can think of is they couldn’t do anything with this kitty, cared enough not to kill it, and just dropped her off at a barn where she’d be fed.

I hate to say it of such disregard for an animal, but if this is what happened, I’m sure glad they did it. Stella has become my pride and joy. I love Baby too, don’t get me wrong, but Stella is my first-born. She’s the first animal I got on my own, two very long cat-less years after moving out of my parents’ house. I nursed her back to health from malnutrition, upper respiratory infections, food allergies, mysterious scabs, hair loss, and now her dental problems. She remains the friendliest cat I have ever met (and others will not argue with this statement). She is my pumpkin dearest and I can’t imagine life without her! Oooooh, kitty!

Filed under: cats

why I can’t finish a puzzle

Dammit cat.

Filed under: cats, misc

charlie brown

Filed under: best friends, cats

Pahrumpapumpums

Pahrump, Nevada. It’s a town about 60 miles outside Vegas known for its legal brothels. We call the place hell, because that’s what it looks like, and that’s what it feels like… especially for the cats that came out of there.

Back in July, Best Friends got involved with a massive cat hoarding situation in Pahrump. Over 800 cats have since come out of a very disturbed woman’s hands. Most of them have now been adopted, and we’re currently moving those remaining to our sanctuary, whereas up until now most of the cats stayed in Pahrump after Best Friends took over the property. We are officially closing up shop in Pahrump this weekend.

If you can handle it, I would recommend looking at some photos taken by Troy Snow (the incredible photographer I replaced when he left Best Friends) of the conditions many of these cats were found in. Sadly, these photos aren’t even the worst ones.

I went to Pahrump last week, where about 150 cats were still living, the ones that still needed a little more work. Most of those are nearly or completely feral and are terrified of humans. They can be quite aggressive, but they won’t be for long. Thanks to the amazing power of our behavior experts, these terrified cats are learning what it’s liked to be loved… and they love it. It starts with a touch, leads to a chin rub, to a purr, and eventually to being held.

The following photos are from my time with the Pahrump cats both there in Nevada and here at their new home in Angel Canyon. But hopefully this won’t be home for long. Adoption is the ultimate goal.

These are a few of the extremely feral cats at Pahrump. When I took this, it was decided these cats would have to live in a colony and could never become pets. But as of the other day, the trainers changed their minds and these cats will too become loving kitties. It just might take a little longer than the rest.

This is Joker. He is a tough case, but there’s still hope. He is making incredible progress. True, he will not let you touch him without a fight, but like most of the cats that are left, he loves to be pet… he just has to learn to trust the human hand. He is a vicious bugger, but after a few minutes, you may find him sucking (not biting) your finger.

As the token friendly cat in Pahrump, it was Baxter’s job to wander around in the different buildings and show the other cats how cool it is to be a friendly cat. Being friendly gets you free reign, regular chin rubs, and loads of neat toys to play with with people. Basically, he showed the other cats how nice humans can be. And he did his job well. The cats really opened up to us humans when Baxter was around. I found out the other day Baxter is now on his way to a home in California. He certainly deserves it.

As this milestone happened, Ferrari’s status was changed to “adoptable.” The scaredy-cats go through a coursework (typically lasting around two months I hear) that ends in graduation when they aren’t fearful to let you hold them. Congratulations Ferrari!

The brag board… where a purr is worthy of celebration.

These cats are living a much more relaxed life in the Pussycat Lounge, a yurt for Pahrump cats (since they are being kept separate from our other cats) at Best Friends.

This is Mozart. He lives in the Pussycat Lounge too. He is the best cat ever and needs to be adopted NOW.

And this is Sherry, our amazing trainer, finally home from Pahrump (after months and months there) the other night as one of the last truckfuls of Pahrump kitties unloaded at Best Friends.

More photos of the Pahrump kitties can be viewed here.

Filed under: best friends, cats

hey you!

Filed under: best friends, cats

cats… and more cats

What happens when a cat lover is assigned to take pictures of one specific cat? She goes and takes pictures of that cat… and 20 of its friends.

Filed under: best friends, cats