Sally

Really, at this point, everyone should know that when I "go silent" for several weeks at a time, I'm probably fostering again.  I've tried and tried, but it's a major strain to work a full time job, deal with the commute, tend to my own pets, then tend to a foster, THEN blog.  Sheesh, I'm lucky to be able to throw in "take a shower" or "cook a meal" or "do the dishes."

But, all of that aside, I am indeed fostering again.  This time it's only one cat, whose name, you may have surmised, is Sally.

I was on my way home from work one night on the bus, and checked my email on my phone.  There was a message that had been sent out to the foster list, saying that a cat was not doing very well in a cage, and had started hissing and swatting at people.  But once someone picked her up and held her, she curled up into a little tiny ball in their lap and just tried to hide from the world.  She was obviously frightened out of her mind, and could a foster please PLEASE step up to take her in and give her a quieter environment.

Well, that story tugged at my heart-strings, so I emailed to say that I was willing.  And...  two hours later, I was loading a very frightened little gray tabby into my carrier and taking her home.  I remember being worried about transporting her because the temperatures were down in the single digits that night, so I had the carrier in the front seat with me, with the heater blasting.  I went through a drive-through to get dinner to take home, and Sally complained, quietly but steadily, the entire time.

This is Sally.  She's a gray tabby, and is so tiny... only 5 1/2 pounds!  She's an adult, though a young one, at a year and a half.

As soon as we let her out of the carrier in our guest room, she hissed at us, and ran into the depths of the closet.  Having dealt with scaredy cats before, I knew to leave her alone for a time, and just got her litter box and food and water dishes ready.  Then we turned the lights out and left her alone for the rest of the night.

I was, as I always am, immensely relieved the next morning to see that food had vanished and the litter box had been used.

It's taken us a couple of weeks to earn her trust (made a bit more difficult due to the need to give her daily antibiotics for part of that time.)   She likes to hide in a little blanket-lined basket that I have in the window; when I come into the room all I can see are the little white tips of her ears.  Sometimes she goes into the closet, if something scares her.  But wherever she goes, she is eager to jump over on to the bed to snuggle up to me when I lay down.  She purrs and kneads the bed, rubs her cheeks on my hand, and will eventually go to sleep like that.  Sometimes she will even sleep on top of me.

She's finally stopped trembling when I pet her... when she first started "coming around" she'd lie there purring  when I was petting her, but she'd be shaking like a leaf all throughout.  Talk about conflicted!

She is still very easily frightened though.  If you move too quickly, she might still hiss and run.  If she hears the dogs racing up the stairs (even though she's safely shut away from them) she gets nervous.  She gets nervous and hides if we talk too loudly, or if a toilet flushes, or if my phone makes any noises when I'm in with her.

I think it's just going to be a process.  And every time I start to get discouraged about it, I remind myself of certain OTHER scaredy cats that I've encountered.  Annie.  Thomas.  Junior.  They all came through it, and so will she.

Everyone send good thoughts Sally's way!  We need to convince her that the universe is not actually out to get her, no matter what her past might have been.

Thoughts on 2012

2012 was a good year for the House of Carnivores, overall.  It was certainly a lot kinder to us than 2011... not that it didn't have its low points.  We lost another family member.  We had some issues with our foster cats.  But we kept our health, we made some friends, we have jobs, we have a home, we have our fur friends.

Some of the highlights of the year:

We fostered 20 cats over the year.  (Not all at the same time, whew!)

All of those cats and kittens found safe, warm homes except for one, Amelia.  Little Amelia passed away in my husband's arms, when she was 8 weeks old.  Even though she was "just a foster" this one was a blow.  We knew, intellectually, that this kind of thing just sometimes happens, especially with kittens, even though everyone did everything right, but having it actually happen to us was harder than I expected.  I swore off fostering after that happened, saying that when the rest of her litter went back, that was it.

And that didn't even go as planned.  Those that follow my blog closely may remember that the remaining kittens in this litter were diagnosed with feline leukemia.  So when we took the two boys in for their neuter surgery, I did so with the expectation that I'd never see them again... they were highly adoptable:  cuddly, super-cute.  To get that phone call that they had FeLV was devastating.

So they came back to stay with me, under strict quarantine from the resident cats, until the shelter could find something to do with them.  And they found a home!  After a couple more months, during which I despaired of finding them a place, a wonderful person found this blog, and decided, over the course of several days, that it was in everyone's best interest if she took them ALL to go home to live with her and her current FeLV+ kitty.

Of course I didn't stop fostering.  We took in a group of four young adults just a few weeks later.  And although I don't currently have any fosters, I'm sure that we will do it again.

Charlotte was taken off of her heart meds.  After the vet told us that she suspected that Charlotte's congestive heart failure was a misdiagnosis, we carefully took her off of all of her medications, and watched her closely for several days.  She never did start suffering the ill-effects of not being medicated, so has been pronounced healthy.

 I can't even begin to describe what this means to me... for the last three years, I've lived with the knowledge that Charlotte could die at any time.  (And I guess that's still the case; none of us get any guarantees, but the death sentence hanging over her head has been lifted.)

We have chosen to view it as the blessing that it is:  the surprise of good health where it was not expected, rather than to think of all of the vet expenses that we paid to "keep her alive."  (Though I obviously haven't forgotten that part or I wouldn't be mentioning it, haha.)

We went to Greyhounds in Gettysburg for the first time.  For a couple of years, I've read other greyhound blogs, and been envious that these bloggers would pack up their greyhounds and go to some of the gatherings, namely Greyhounds in Gettysburg, or the one out at Dewey Beach.

Then I realized that there was no reason to be envious.  We are adults and in a position that  if we want to make it happen, then we could just make it happen!

Gettysburg was certainly closer than Dewey Beach, so we decided to try that one first.  We had a great time, the dogs had a great time, and we came away with some wonderful memories.  I don't know if we'll be able to do something like it every year, but we're definitely interested in going back.

Maera celebrated her first Gotcha Day!  In July, we celebrated Maera's first anniversary in our home.  It's significant because she has come so far since that first day.

Her sparkly, sprightly personality is still there:  her joy knows no bounds and sometimes needs to be... umm... tempered.  But she snuggles with us like a champ, has stopped her "submissive urination" problem that I've wrote fairly extensively about, and has just turned into a fantastic young lady.  We couldn't possibly love her more, and she's an essential part of the household.

And like any year, there are dozens (if not hundreds) of little moments that are difficult to write about and do justice to, yet still make such a difference in our lives.  How Bit has lost her fear of the dogs, and will now willingly come into the same room with them.  How awesome it is when Argos jumps up onto the couch and curls up beside me.  Or when Charlotte, still alive, stands in front of the refrigerator and yells at me to make me get her more milk.

I look forward to 2013, and the joys and even the sorrows that it will bring.  I'm glad for all of you, with whom I can hopefully continue sharing snapshots of our lives, both the joys and the sorrows.  So... Happy New Year!  May the upcoming year be filled with joy and prosperity for you and yours.

Playing in the Snow

I've been getting a lot of pictures of the dogs lately and not the cats.  Cat-lovers, I assure you that my cats are all OK.  I will have to dedicate a day to getting as many pictures of them as possible...  it's just so much easier with the dogs! Mostly because the dogs can't as easily escape my clutches, but we won't dwell on that point.

We've gotten quite a bit of snow the past couple of days.  We got about 3 inches the other day, and then I don't know... maybe another 5 or so today.  Even though Maera was with us last winter, I think that this is the most significant snowfall she's ever seen...  last winter was pretty light on the actual snow.

I got some terrific footage of the dogs running and playing in the snow, but then inadvertently deleted it.  (D'oh!)  So you're just going to have to take my word for it.  That, and I have some stills that I was able to get the next day.  They're not QUITE as excited about the snow now that it's deeper, but I think they're some nice shots anyway.

I can't remember if I said anything on the blog about this, but back in October, for my birthday, Jeff got me a real camera.  (Up until that point, every picture that I posted here was taken from my iPhone.  I now have a Rebel T3i.  I'm still learning to use it, and despite taking a camera class later in October, I'll admit that I'm still using the autofocus...  I need to practice doing everything manually, but NOT when some great pictures of my dogs are on the line.

ANYWAY,  please enjoy a Saturday afternoon at the House of Carnivores.  (There's even a cat picture, I promise.)

Argos, smiling for the camera

The higher Maera holds her tail, the more mischief she is planning.

Vampire attack!

And around and around they raced, frequently hiding behind the picnic table so that I couldn't get any really good action shots of them.  Because the clumsy two-legger for some reason can't trudge through six inches or more of snow very effectively while lugging a not so cheap camera.

Hahahaha, your vampire attack does nothing to me!!!

My Mama WHAT?

Maera, I am appalled!

Charlotte watches, fascinated, through the window.

I can't say that I'm a winter person, but I do like to watch them enjoying themselves in the snow.  Maybe these pictures will help get me through until May!

The Things We Buy

I never knew how many things it was possible to buy for your pets, until I started adopting animals, that is.  There are SO many things out there to buy.  Things that you never knew existed, and now you just can't live without.

Like this:

Yes, yes, ignore the dark picture and my junk in the background (it's cleaning day and as a result everything is MORE messy than it even usually is.)

But this treasure of the post-modern age that you see is a baby gate.  That swings on hinges, so that you don't have to take it down every time you need to pass through.  AND THERE'S A KITTY DOOR IN IT.

It is the best pet investment we've made.  1.)  It keeps Maera out of the kitchen. (Sorry, Maera, you KNOW that you would wreak havoc in there.)  2.)  It's easy for me and Jeff to pass through.  3.)  It's easy for the cats to pass through. OMG, it has simplified my life.

Our guests must think that we're crazy for having baby gates up all over the house when we don't even have children, but life. is.  sweet.

Other things that we've bought that I would have sniggered about a few years ago:

1.  Electrical drinking fountains for both dogs and cats.  It started out as an attempt to get the cats to drink more water (a successful attempt, I might add.)  Then when we had such a hot summer, I wanted a plentiful, cool, and fresh source of water for the dogs while we weren't at home, so the dogs got their own fountain.  They're nice.  You have to watch them, though - they get algae and scum in the tiniest nooks and crannies, so they're more complicated to keep clean than a simple bowl.  Also, the dog fountain is LOUD when it runs out of water.  It will bring me running from upstairs to fill it just to shut it up.

2.  Coats for the dogs.  I used to laugh at people who had their dogs in coats, but now that I have thin-skinned, largely fatless greyhounds, I know that they need the extra layer for warmth, just like we do.

3.  Beds for dogs.  Good lord we have so many dog beds:  upstairs beds for the study, downstairs beds for the living room, beds in their crates.  You would think that we had 7 dogs instead of two.

4.  Dog toys.  They have a toy chest filled with them in our living room.  This is nearly all my fault... I just can't help myself.  They just get SO happy and excited when I bring home a new toy.

The latest are gigantic monkeys that honk when you squeeze them, and their feet and hands squeak. The cashier at Burlington Coat Factory, where I found these toys, was genuinely non-plussed when I bought them.  "What ARE those things?"  I think that she was silently questioning my sanity when I told her that they were dog toys.

5.  Multiple kinds of food.  To get our dogs to eat without complaint, we have to mix a certain amount of certain grain-free flavors of kibble (currently, we're using Merrick Grain-Free) with a little bit of canned dog food.  It has to be ground, mind you, because they're not enamored with chunks of meat.  The cats are little better - we have one that will only eat dry food and one that will only eat wet food.  Of course we almost always run out all at the same time, so as we're filling our cart at Petco with the 50 million kinds of pet food, we do get some strange looks.

But I would happily buy any of these things again and again.  Some just make life easier for all of us, others are certainly coddling my animals, but these guys have all had rough lives before landing in my house.  They deserve a little bit of coddling, eh?

There was a very nice man behind me in line at Petco today, whose eyes popped out when the cashier gave me my total:  I was after all buying a huge bag of dog kibble, an entire flat of canned dog food, and an entire cube of canned cat food, and a big bottle of glucosomine for Argos.  The man was buying a litter box.  He told me that there was a cat outside that was freezing, so he'd let him in and started feeding him and that he might as well stay.   He joked that he'd already spent a small fortune on food and supplies.  I told him that it was money well-spent, and that he was very kind to help out a cold, starving kitty.  And heck, if he can restrain himself from adopting multiple cats then jumping across the species line to adopt dogs, maybe he'll never see his grocery bill quite as high as mine.  :)

Foster Success!

When we took our four 1-year-old foster kitties to the shelter clinic two Sundays ago, it was my plan for them to get their deworming medicine, and their distemper boosters, then bring them back home.  However, we were informed that there were cages open for them, so we left them there.

That moment is always sad, as you put an animal who has grown to trust you in a cage, shut the door, and walk away.  But it's part of fostering, unless you plan to "foster fail" every time, or have the luxury of adopting straight from your home.  (That IS technically an option here too, but my problem is, I don't have a network of people strong enough to make this an easy task.  If no one sees the cats, then no one adopts the cats, simple enough.)

That said, the four of them were moved to a "play cage" in the front room of the adoption floor a day later.  A day after THAT, Christina and Emily were adopted, together!  (You may remember this picture of the two of them.)

Edgar and Dante sat there for another week, but I found out that the two of them got adopted on Monday... TOGETHER!  That's so totally awesome that these guys got adopted in pairs.  They were all so BONDED to one another that it was just the perfect adoption story.

This is, of course, what all fostering is supposed to lead to.  There is still a bit of lingering sadness on my part, though.  I get so attached.  I'm glad they're in homes, don't get me wrong.  It's just bittersweet.

So here's a letter to my foster kitties, if they were able to read it.

Dear Christina and Emily, Edgar and Dante,

When I first saw you in the back room of the shelter, huddled in a pile together, staring out at me with round, terrified eyes, you broke my heart.  When I saw the note on your cage that your owner had died, my heart broke even more.  I had not intended to take home four of you, but there was no way that I was leaving you behind on that day.  I wanted to take you home, swaddle you up in warm, soft blankets, and reassure you that everything was going to turn out okay.

That's not the way that it happened, of course, it never is.  I got you home, let you out of your carriers, and you all hid under the bed from me for the next 24 hours.  Do you remember when you first came out?  It was when I popped open a new can of Friskee's pate.  Christina, ever the bold one, was first, but the rest of you followed suit. shortly after.  Edgar, you were trying so hard to be brave... you came out.  You may have been crawling on your belly, staring up at me like I was a monster, but you came out.

Over the next few days you all realized that I was harmless, and I spent many happy hours lying on the guest room bed with all of you on top of me, purring your hearts out.

And then you got sick.  I nursed you through it, held you in my arms, and yes, forced you to eat when you didn't want to.  I worried over you, convinced that you were all on death's door.  But you got better.

And through it all you showed me love and unquestioning faith in my abilities to take care of you.

And then I left you in a cage at the shelter.  I know that you didn't understand at the time, and that you might have felt scared and betrayed as you saw my retreating back.  I did it so that you could find your "forever homes," wherever those might be.  I did it for your good, even if I felt a twinge of guilt regardless.  Even if I cried in the car all the way home and made my husband take me out for comfort food that evening.

And now that I know that you're in your "forever homes."  It warms my heart, and I hope that you are with truly nice people, who will love you even more than I did, who will take care of you.  I hope that they let you sleep with them, and that they'll be delighted when you curl up beside them, purring and flashing your bellies.  I hope that you get lots of treats, and that I become a distant memory, and am then completely forgotten.

Because that's the way that fostering works.  We're only meant to be a port in the storm.  My job was to get you healthy and happy, to give you a warm, safe and loving place to stay until there was room for you.  I was not meant to keep you.

Bless you, sweet kitties.  I will think of you often.

Your Foster Mom

A Lady Down on her Luck

My parents are trying their best to locate a home for a stray that has wandered up onto their porch.  

She really needs to find a place before winter, because as anyone who has spent any time in Missouri in winter knows, it can get quite brutal there.  They can't take her in themselves, due to cat dynamics - their current cats don't like her.  

Edith Ann, as she has been named, has been on her own for quite some time, and has had a rough time of it.  Because of that, she's a little hissy and defensive at times, though would clearly LIKE to have a human of her own to trust, because she does like to be petted, and will purr if she gets any attention.  My own opinion, without having met her myself, just based on other cats I've known,  is that I'm sure that the hissy part would fade given time in a home of her own.

Can anyone help out this little lady?  She is currently living in the Kansas City, Missouri area.  

Happy Thanksgiving (A Day Late)

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!  Well, for us Thanksgiving hasn't even happened yet...  Jeff has a nasty cold/sinus infection and so we postponed the feast until Sunday when we could all enjoy ourselves more.  Fortunately, his symptoms have gotten SO much better in just 24 hours, so I don't anticipate that Sunday is going to be a problem for us.  So now, instead of being in a turkey coma with a large swath of the country, I'm still drooling over the idea of eating all of it.

We still have the foster cats that I mentioned at the end of my last blog post.  They were intended to be much more short-term, but they all came down with some pretty severe upper respiratory infections a couple of days after we brought them home.  The shelter gave us some antibiotics to fight off any opportunistic secondary infections, but it was a nasty bout of symptoms...  I've never seen cats sneeze so much, or have quite so much mucus up in their sinuses.  I've also never had cats stop eating because of URI symptoms.  It was all very scary, but we've come out the other side, and except for the occasional sneeze, they're almost back up to healthy again.

So, you may be wondering, just who are these kitties?  What's their story?

Meet Christina (left) and Emily (right.)

And Edgar.

And Dante.

They all came as a family unit.  They're all one-year-olds, and I suspect that they are litter-mates.  I don't know much beyond that, except that their paperwork says that their owner died.

I went in to the shelter that night intending to take two healthy adults home with me - the foster list had gotten an email earlier that day telling us that cage space was at a premium, and that there were a number of cats that really needed to go into short-term foster until cage space opened.

Actually, I should backtrack a little bit.  The FeLV positive kittens took an emotional toll on us, and after their new mom adopted all of them, I said that we needed to take a break.  I said that we'd need to go through the holidays with no fosters, and that after that, I would consider doing it again.  My resolve lasted for...  two and a half weeks.  I didn't even make it to Thanksgiving.

Anyway, so I wound up at the shelter that night, and saw a cage of what appeared to be three scared looking kitties in it.  I agreed to take them - after all, three is not any more difficult than two, right?  But as we were peeling them off of their terrified kitten pile, one by one, to put them in my carriers, a FOURTH head popped up.  Well, I am not the type to harden my heart and tell them to start putting cats back in a cage after I'd already decided to help them, so I agreed to take all four.

They're the sweetest, most adorable, friendly cats.  Dante likes to show you his belly, as does Emily, who will purr if you so much as look at her.  (Though she is a little shy, and will require some coaxing to come out at first.)  Christina is bold, and is definitely the queen of this little pride of cats.  She likes to sit on your chest, and gets very unhappy with you if you move.  Edgar is a little scared and shy at first, but is a friendly, snuggly boy who is desperate for your attention once he realizes that you're friendly.

Even though I don't know much about their history, I can know one thing after just a short time interacting with this group of cats - their previous owner loved them very much, because they're clearly used to giving and receiving lots of affection.

They'll all have to go back to the shelter, and I'm guessing soon.  They're very adoptable, young adult cats, and having them sitting in my home isn't doing them any long-term favors. It will break my heart to take them back, but it HAS to happen.  We are not equipped to absorb even one more permanent cat into this household, let alone four.

I will do this thing.

Emily streeeetches.

Christina turns her green, green gaze towards the camera.

Dante wants a hug