Locksley, Featured Cat of the Month

The feral cat I named Locksley (because I wanted a name to go with Zorro) came here via "the cats' underground railroad passageway." If memory serves me correctly, I have already posted about that. Anyway, I had his ear tattooed instead of clipped, so that he could be recognized as a neutered feral cat. Little did I know at the time that Locksley would choose to become domesticated after he recovered indoors from his fan belt injury. The truth is that Locksley has no desire whatsoever to set his paws outdoors again, since he is very happy living inside a house, a warm home, where he is fed well (perhaps too well, since he could stand to lose a pound or so) and has plenty of companionship. It is probably better for me also that Locksley abandoned the feral life because I cannot afford expensive veterinary bills--and Locksley seems to have been quite accident-prone outdoors.

Locksley quickly went from appearing shy around the other cats to being bold and sassy--whatever it took for him to gain acceptance. I must say, watching Locksley's quick transformation into a lovable rascal was quite entertaining.

Mikey Was Upset

A month ago, Mikey was upset after getting her annual vaccines. She stayed in "the cats' underground railroad passageway" for nearly twenty-four hours, before emerging on the deck. I am sure she was also sore from the shots, since it took her about forty-eight hours to return to her active self.

A Living Statue

If only I had taken my camera outside with me that one evening when I stood motionless, like a living statue, breathing in the night air, before bringing Mikey indoors for the night! Hearing a commotion coming from the direction of "the cats' underground railroad passageway," I turned my head and noticed Harry Potter, our cat guest, staring at someone who was about to make his presence known to me.

A few seconds later, Shakespeare (our favorite raccoon) came around the corner of the house. Not expecting to see a motionless human--or was I some sort of scarecrow?--Shakespeare stopped dead in his tracks and stared at me from a distance of no more than fifteen feet. I did not even blink as I acted out the part of a living statue. So Shakespeare decided to stand on his hind legs, stretching upward as far as he could to smell me from a safe distance. He reminded me of a bear cub standing upright. Anyway, Shakespeare got a good whiff of my human scent and quickly scampered back into "the cats' underground railroad passageway." His dinner of leftover catfood would be delayed that night.

Ponzo, One Year Later

On July 1, 2009, I pulled an extremely ill feral cat named Ponzo out of "the cats' underground railroad passageway" below my deck. One year later, the FIV-positive cat is doing well as a housecat. He has adjusted to strictly indoor life--not by choice, mind you, since he is in quarantine from cats who roam the outdoors. Indoors, I keep a supervisory eye on him, but when I cannot do so, my assistant resides in the computer room, where he is quite comfortable. Ponzo's best buddy is probably Quentin, but the other boys seem to like him as well. The girls, however, have not expressed much of an interest. Anyway, Ponzo and Emma are the only two cats who are not at all bothered by the vacuum cleaners. (Yes, I have several of those noisy things.) While Ponzo does not express a desire to attack or play with the vacuum cleaners in Emma-like fashion, he is no longer the timid little cat who, at any loud noise, used to run and hide in the drainage ditches along the sides of the road.

New Meal Schedule

Yesterday I decided to change the cats' meal schedule. That is, instead of filling their bowls in the morning with enough dry food to last all day, the cats will now be fed two separate meals daily. The only cats not affected by this change are Ponzo and Mikey, who will continue to get their food bowls filled every morning.

Mark Twain could not wait for dinner yesterday. He decided to go in search of Mikey's food, since he is well aware that she eats outside because that is her preference. So he darted out the door and made a beeline for "the cats' underground railroad passageway." I could not lift him out of there because Mark Twain is quite a large cat, so I had to wait for him to reappear from underneath the deck. I suspect that was his way of protesting.

I did make some new homemade catfood. The only ones who really like it are Locksley and Karma, while Mark Twain finds the food edible. But as for the new meal schedule, not even one cat is happy about it.

Mikey Stays Out Partying

This is how Mikey looks after staying out all night partying. Pretty good. Apparently, she must have been invited to a Christmas party at the Opossums' home, because the last time I saw Mikey on Saturday evening was when I let her outside and then I saw her disappear into the cats' underground railroad passageway, which can be taken to the Opossums' residence under our deck. I have never been invited to any of the Opossums' social functions, but Rebel, who has also never been invited, has pointed out their residence to me many times as we've walked on the roof of the marsupials' humble abode. Anyway, that was the only place Mikey could have gone, because a couple feet of snow engulfed our house. And Mikey must have been having a good time eating mouse or whatever non-vegetarian food the Opossums were serving, since she refused to come home, despite the bitter cold, until I let Rebel outside this morning. Oh, I had planned on taping Rebel in the snow; instead, I happened to capture the moment Mikey returned home, and I am putting that very short video on YouTube, for anybody who would like to see our gorgeous girl Mikey. A reality video. Mikey Comes Home.mov.

My Interior Designers

This morning I learned that Ponzo has been taking lessons in interior design from Quentin. This was a well-kept secret from me. However, while Quentin truly enjoys taking down valances just for the fun of it, I fear that Ponzo's heart is not really in decorating. I believe the formerly feral cat is more interested in trying to figure out an escape route via the window. Ponzo does miss the outside world, but those days ended when I discovered him in the cats' underground railroad passageway in July. This cloud does have a silver lining, though, because Ponzo has been doing well since the end of summer.

Around Midnight

Around midnight tonight, it will be two years that Yoda has been a member of our family. That was the night that the shy, black feral cat moved into the house. He had been a half-grown kitten when he showed up on our deck via "the cats' underground railroad passageway" during the previous summer. At first, he preferred to hide in the passageway, but soon he moved onto the deck. I named him Yoda because he had not grown into his very large ears yet.

While Yoda had made friends with Rebel rather quickly, it took a while for me to be able to touch him, and I was only permitted to pat Yoda lightly on the head. I figured Yoda had made friends with Rebel because he thought the large dog would make a good buddy, especially in case he needed protection from the cats in the neighborhood. Yoda was not a fighter, although he already sported a ragged ear. After all, a cat can't run from a bully cat.

Anyway, it was a bitterly cold night two years ago, when Godot decided to dart out the front door as I let Rebel back into the house. At the time, my docile Godot would turn into a screaming banshee, ready to attack anyone who approached him, whenever he managed to escape outside. Well, I knew I had a problem when Yoda appeared, since he was interested in making the acquaintance of my banshee in tuxedo cat's clothing. Immediately, I decided it would be easier to lure the feral cat into my house than it would be to catch Godot, who would return only when he was ready to do so.

Therefore, using canned tuna catfood as bait, I held the front door open, and Yoda very slowly stuck his nose inside. When the tip of Yoda's tail eventually entered the house, I quickly shut the door behind him. And that's where Yoda stayed the entire night, right by the door, under a small table. As for Godot, he eventually returned with an attitude, since he probably thought that letting a feral cat into the house was a bad idea.

When I got up in the morning, Yoda had moved under the hutch in the dining room. So, I went about my morning routine. When I noticed that Yoda had disappeared from underneath the hutch, I called his name and got a loud response from the bedroom. Horrified, I already knew what he was doing before I reached the room. Yoda stood urinating on the green carpet at the side of the bed. I believe he was apologizing, because he just kept talking. Since it was not his fault, but mine, I waited patiently until Yoda was done. Hoping the feral cat would not freak out on me, I picked him up quickly and, holding him at arm's length, I carried him into the bathroom, where I introduced him to a litterbox. Second introductions were necessary, but he has never had an accident since that first time. And that is how Yoda became a housecat.

Has Yoda ever expressed an interest in going outside again? No. He knows life is better inside the house. Yoda is my ragdoll cat now.

All Is Forgiven--Almost

Approximately forty-eight hours ago, I brought Ponzo and Locksley home from the Pet Wellness Clinic hosted by the local animal shelter. Even though Locksley was not due to have his shots updated for another month, I thought it would be good for Ponzo to have some company in the car. Naturally, Ponzo, being the smaller cat, got to go in the larger cat carrier, simply because the carrier had been stored in Ponzo's private room. I had not had the foresight to get the carriers ready the night before. You see, when the intended occupants see me pick up a carrier, that's it, they're gone into hiding in a flash.

I have been unable to figure out how the cats always seem to know who is, and who is not, scheduled to go for a dreaded car ride. That is, unless I do not have a particular cat or cats earmarked for capture--then everyone vanishes without a trace. Anway, that's Emma in the photo; she is wishing Locksley and Ponzo a safe and speedy return home. The other cats, being naturally curious creatures, did not run and hide, but strolled about the room after bidding the two carrier inmates a fond adieu. Had there been a need for me to do so, I could have grabbed one of the others as well. Fairly easily, I think. But I am convinced that the other cats knew instinctively that they would be staying home, otherwise they would have gone into hiding. This I know from many years of experience because I dread the ordeal of first locating, then capturing, and finally placing cats inside carriers. Usually this means furniture needs to be moved, and I end up being exhausted before we even get to the car. My worst experience was when I had to take apart a bed, while I played musical mattresses/bed frame, so to speak, with Ginny; oh, I won the game--at the cost of several nicks in the wall, and I promised myself I would never play that game again.

Ponzo, Locksley, and I survived Saturday's ordeal, but not without an incident at the shelter. It was a very long wait, but most of our time was spent in the car, which was fine with the cats because they expressed no interest in going out to see the horde of barking dogs. When we finally got to go inside the building, I sat down to wait for our turn and I wondered why the shelter smelled. I had immediately noticed the distinct smell of cat urine. Then it dawned on me that the odor could be emanating from one of my cat carriers. When the shelter director came over and said she smelled a tomcat, I immediately apologized, explaining that Ponzo was an unneutered male because he is an FIV-positive feral.... (Yes, I strongly believe in spaying/neutering, and none of my pets are capable of reproduction. And Ponzo's day to be neutered is approaching. In the meantime, trust me, there is no way Ponzo is going to become a father inside our house.)

Nevertheless, when one hears the word tomcat, especially an FIV-positive, feral tomcat, an image of a big cat who likes to fight with other cats comes to mind--at least that is the image I get. Ponzo, on the other hand, is a timid soul, a small cat who steps aside for other cats. He had made his home in drainage ditches, apparently, and had been fed by kind people, but he would bolt if anyone approached him. He was our neighborhood wild cat. And I had the opportunity of observing him before he landed in the cats' underground railroad passageway, which ultimately led him inside my house. So I know for a fact, that if Ponzo is eating and another cat comes along, Ponzo will walk away and wait for the other cat to finish eating before he returns to his meal.

Also, Ponzo has never once sprayed inside our house. He had not sprayed inside the cat carrier in the shelter either. But from fright, Ponzo had urinated and pooped all over himself. The vet and his staff were extremely nice, by the way. They even cleaned the carrier for us. But Ponzo did come home with a memento, a small piece of poop attached to his bushy tail.

Ponzo was happy to come home, but he is now spending a lot of time under the bed, which is where he had preferred to hide in July. But he will come sit on my lap, and he does play with his toys in my presence, only he now chooses to sleep under the bed instead of on it. Fortunately, Ponzo still comes to me immediately whenever I call his name. So, we have not regressed too much. As for Locksley, he was also happy to come home. The remainder of the weekend, however, Locksley would come up to me with a look on his face which I interpreted to mean, "What in the world possessed you to make me go through such an ordeal? Have you gone mad?" Nonetheless, all is forgiven--almost.

"The Cats' Underground Railroad Passageway"

Over the years, many cats, opossums, and a few raccoons have used what I've dubbed "the cats' underground railroad passageway" as a safe entrance onto my deck and also a quick exit. Word has gotten out, apparently, since a number of ferals have come here, dined on the deck, and stayed for a while before moving on. The passageway has also served as a shelter for the sick and injured. Anyway, one of my neighbors' cats must have found out somehow that I planned to write about discovering a gravely ill Ponzo in "the cats' underground railroad passageway," because I found the black cat volunteering to re-enact the scene this morning. And so, I took this photo of him. Now, just imagine me lying face down on the deck, determined to pull out the small feral cat, and picking him up for the first time. For the record, I had gotten to know Ponzo quite well in a short time. We had already reached the point in our relationship where Ponzo would come running when he heard his name. In fact, he enjoyed walking beside me. When it comes to heeling, Ponzo's a natural. Or is he an unnatural? After all, he is a cat. I digress. On July 1, I rushed Ponzo to the vet's office; he had a temperature of 105.8 F. Fortunately, two days later, Ponzo's temperature was 102.5 F. and he was able to come home. Meaning come live inside my house.