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Door Darting Diva

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It was a rare, beautiful Saturday, an afternoon devoid of extreme heat and torrential rain. I took advantage of the comfortable temperature and blue sky by reading a book under the patio umbrella. Capone and Cosmo joined me in the yard, playing with toys and chasing each other, enjoying the day as much as I was. I bought them a larger water bowl for outside, and they lapped up the cool water in the shade.

I guess it’s because they’re a bit older now, but the pups don’t linger in the yard nearly as much as they did when they first came home. Last year it was tough to get them in from outside, but now they ask to go in more often. I chalk that up to the discovery of couches and air conditioning. When they stood outside the back door, I let them in and continued my book in relative peace.

The boys would appear at the door to come back out, then quickly want to go back in. I think they would have preferred it if I stayed in with them, but sorry boys, the good weather awaited me outside. I acted as the canine doorman a few times, and I couldn’t get into my book for fear of what the dogs were up to in the house left to their own devices. They are still too young to be left alone unsupervised.

Up the back steps I went to check on them. They were at the door looking out into the yard. Joining them were Bram and Tiki. The cats are no strangers to hanging out by the door, enjoying sunbathing on nice days and watching the birds. We often let the dogs in and out with assorted cats in the threshold without issue. On this day that changed.

The pups looked eager to charge outside, but they didn’t move when the door opened. They appeared as stunned as I was to see Tiki go out the open door. She made it only a few steps to the landing before the stairs before I got her back into the safety of the house, using my left hand to gently push her back through the door. I was fortunate that it worked out how it did, as I am not left-handed.

Tiki is a frail lady of about 16 years old. She was formerly outside but has been inside with us for around 11 years. This is a reminder that you cannot trust a cat to never dart out the door if given the opportunity, no matter how long they have been inside.

Since it’s the dogs’ belief that no one, including them, should wear collars, Tiki was relieved of hers by her canine brothers when she went out the door. With no external identification, I cannot stress enough the importance of microchips registered to a pet recovery service. I have my critters scanned periodically to be sure the chip can still be read, usually at their annual vet appointment. Cats may have nine lives, but Tiki’s escapade took as many off mine!

The Integration

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Since his first vet appointment, Bram has been microchipped and registered, and an appointment has been made for his neuter. The office has been turned into a makeshift room for Bram. He’s been in seclusion from the other pets until his two week quarantine following his initial vet visit is over. Don’t feel too sorry for him, he’s in a climate-controlled environment and has all the feline necessities including a bed, scratching post, and litterbox. He even has a new flatscreen!

We have been keeping him company in his room and occupied with a variety of toys. He is friendly but has too much interest in playing with human hands. That is something we’ll need to address. The resident cats have patrolled the hallway outside of his door a few times. They know he is in the room, but at least no one is incessantly hanging out by the door. They all know the drill, whatever is in the room will come out eventually. Bram has seen Tiger twice. The first time was when we carried Bram into the room by way of cat carrier. Bram hissed at Tiger from behind the metal door, but that was it. They also saw each other briefly when the office door was opened.

After the isolation period, it was time to start the integration process. This can take a while considering the number of critters residing in the house. As long as this process takes all the time it needs, and isn’t rushed, things tend to work out. Before we added any animals to the mix, we let Bram have the run of the house solo so he could get the lay of the land before meeting his housemates. He was able to locate the bowls, litterboxes, and scratching posts.

From there we continued integration in stages, from the easiest pet to the most difficult. We decided to let Bram out only when the dogs were out. Once he was acclimated to them, we introduced him to Vlad and Barnabas, and then finally the oldest cats Tiger and Tiki. It took a few weeks, but it seems to be going well.

When Moose and Red were younger and prone to chasing, we crated them when introducing new cats. In Bram’s case, we left him out when the dogs were sleeping on the couch. He jumped on the couch with the boys and sniffed them. No problems there. On another occasion, we let Bram out with the boys when they were awake. They were walking around, and Red was barking. Bram wasn’t bothered by them. The dogs don’t see well, but I’m sure Bram has a different scent from the other cats.

After a couple weeks we added Vlad and Barnes. Barnes hissed and wasn’t the welcoming brother I expected him to be. Vlad wanted to play with Bram, but he was unsure at first. I’m happy that both seem to get along with him now.

Finally, we added the two older cats. Tiger took to him right away, which surprised me because he was the one I was most worried about. Tiki isn’t thrilled but tolerates him as long as he doesn’t get too close. She is like that with the others anyway, so it’s good to see she treats her new brother like the others.

Bram is now out of his room full time. He’s happy to have the run of the house, and I am happy to have my office back. Training cats to stay away from doors is an ongoing process when you have one that has previously been outside. So far Bram has shown little interest in being a door darter. Everyone gets along reasonably well. There is no hissing or chasing, which are all signs that the integration is heading in the right direction. We’re happy we decided to take a chance with the little guy.

I’m pleased to report that since the above was written, Bram has been neutered and there is household harmony among the fur kids. (Human hands are safe, too).

The Patter of New Paws

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I’m embarrassed to admit that I have been away from my blog for so long. I created content for the site since my last post, but I just never published it. Several events transpired during my break, some good, then bad, then good again. I will bring this site current, but it may take a while to catch up with past pet anecdotes. Let’s start with something good that’s happened.

We were quite content with four cats. That was a number that seemed to work for us. The loss of Annie and Ozzy reduced our number to two for about a year, but missing the chaos that multiples can sometimes bring, we adopted two more cats a couple weeks apart (Barnabas and Vlad).

So much for even numbers. A family member found a friendly stray, did we want it? No room at the inn was our usual response, but for some reason we caved. I think it was in part because of the melancholy surrounding Moose’s kidney failure diagnosis. My husband and I needed something positive, an exciting hello when a tragic goodbye drew near.

Having agreed, I asked for a photo of the kitty, which showed it drinking water outside. A brown tabby with white feet. I’ve had two in the past; both Puff and Annie were brown tabbies. I hated to think of it outside in the summer heat with no permanent place to call home.

The cat rescuer traveled to where it was usually seen, and it voluntarily went into the cat carrier. The kitty arrived at our house on July 9, 2021. We never released it from the carrier, instead we went right to the pet urgent care down the street to check for a microchip. There was no sense in falling in love with someone else’s pet. A scan failed to find a chip. Kitty wasn’t part of a colony, as neither ear was tipped. I secretly hoped kitty would be a female I could name Lizzie. We only have one female; the others are males. No such luck. Kitty was an unneutered male with claws. They weren’t able to do any vetting of the kitty, but our normal vet was able to squeeze us in that night.

Kitty was named Bram on the way to the vet, in keeping with the vampire-themed names of two of our other cats. He was very good at the vet’s office. Bram was swept again for the presence of a microchip and still none was found. It turned out that he was a young man of 10-11 months, or a teenage kitten.

Bram had little flea dirt on him, but he did have ear mites, so I was given a topical to treat them along with any other parasite or worm he could have. (I think he may have been expelling something in the days that followed, so it was good that he had the medicine). He tested negative for feline AIDS and leukemia, so he was safe to bring home and keep. Bram will have to be kept isolated from the rest of the menagerie for two weeks, and if there are no signs of anything upper respiratory or otherwise unusual going on, he can begin the integration process. He also received a rabies shot during his visit. Welcome to your new life Bram!

I Fought the Cat and the Cat Won

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I Fought the Cat and the Cat Won (2)

Bloody Tears

What kind of trouble can a 13-pound dog get into when left to his own devices? In just a few minutes, Red got himself a trip to the vet, and an unexpected bill for us.

I knew on the way home that the dogs were loose and not crated. Their dad came home from work to feed them, but needed to return to work for an evening event. This meant the boys would be out alone for a few minutes until I could get home, which is no big deal.

When I came through the door, I saw the usual assortment of cats, and Moose was on the loveseat. Red was not in his usual spot on the couch. In fact, he was nowhere to be found.

I soon saw that the baby gate leading to the kitchen was moved, enough for an elderly Italian greyhound to fit through. My guess is that Red moved it so that he could jump onto our bed and burrow beneath the blankets. At his age, sleeping is his preferred past time.

Red was in our bedroom as I expected, but he was standing on the floor at the foot of the bed. Looking back, I remember that Tiger was laying on the bed by the pillows. I coaxed Red back into the family room.

I went about my business, but Red seemed out of sorts. He didn’t want to settle on the couch like normal. He was wandering around when I noticed blood on his face. I couldn’t be sure if it was coming from his face or eye. He wouldn’t let me wipe away the blood, let alone allow a closer inspection. Red was squinting the affected eye, so I decided a vet visit was in order.

We were seen fast, and Red was taken away for a quick test. The results revealed two scratches to his eye consistent with cat claws. We had four suspects at home. Red was prescribed two eyedrops, which he was terrible about taking. He turned into a tiny monster.

I’m happy to report that Red’s injury healed on its own with little intervention. He had a follow-up visit combined with his normal mani/pedi appointment. We’re not sure how much Red could see with that eye anyway, but at least he wasn’t in any pain.

What do I think happened to Red, and who was the culprit? I think he pulled the baby gate away from the doorway and went through the kitchen in search of our bedroom. Once in there, he likely wanted to burrow under the covers, which is where he sleeps at night. I believe he jumped on the bed, not realizing that feline brother Tiger was in close proximity. The cat may have been surprised, or simply protecting his sleeping space and lashed out, causing the eye injury. (It should be noted that Tiger regards our bed as his during the day. He probably wasn’t willing to give up his spot so soon in the evening). I’ll bet Red jumped off the bed as fast as he could. That would explain why I found him dazed in our room. Poor little pup.

I Fought the Cat and the Cat Won (1)

All Cleaned Up

Appreciating the Black Cat’s Gotcha Day

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Appreciating the Black Cat's Gotcha Day (1).jpg

He Loves Me . . .

Yesterday was Black Cat Appreciation Day, which coincides well with today. It was three years ago on this date that we adopted Vlad, the most awesome of all black kitties. (I might be just a tad biased).

I appreciate all the cats I have known and loved, but black cats have their own special day. Black kittens and cats are not adopted as often as their counterparts in different colors. There’s a stigma attached to them, which is a shame, because to know one is to love one. Black Cat Appreciation Day raises awareness of just how awesome black cats are.

Since Halloween is my favorite holiday, I wanted a black cat and Vlad more than fit the bill. For me, looks are secondary to personality, and three of my current cats picked me. (Barnabas picked my husband, wrapping him around his little paw at their first meeting). This time I sought a black cat, but he had to have a great personality, one that would mesh with the resident cats.

What I love about Vlad is how lovable he is. They say shelter pets seem to know when they have been rescued, and show their appreciation to their new owners. Vlad shows it every day in little ways.

I love to kiss the top of his big plush head. The neatest thing about Vlad that I have never seen another cat do is return kisses. For every peck on the top of his head, I get a nose lick. It’s automatic, like he knows how to give kisses back. It really is endearing.

Vlad and Tiki are both lap cats, with a preference for hanging out with me. (The two gingers are more Daddy’s boys). Sometimes they vie for lap space, with Tiki more often than not getting the prime seat. That’s just as well, as she has higher seniority.

When Vlad is able to jump in my lap, he does it with gusto. While Tiki is 11 pounds, Vlad is more. How much more I’m not sure until his next vet appointment, but suffice it to say that he is beefier than his sister.

Sometimes he will bop you in the face with his giant black head. I think this is somewhat new for him, possibly learned from resident head butter Barnabas. After that, he makes himself comfortable. He likes to curl up under your arm, completely outstretched, big black feet extended. He was a long cat, lanky when we adopted him. He’s still long, but not so lanky these days.

If you think working will keep you safe from Vlad’s affection, you would be wrong. He has no problem standing on whatever you’re reading until you acknowledge him. If you’re working on your computer, he likes to sprawl out in your arms or on your lap while you try to type. On your phone? He will gnaw on the corner of it. Writing something long hand? The writing implement will be chewed.

Sometimes he can be annoying in his quest for affection, but of course, you have to give in and lavish Vlad with lots of love. He’s my cuddle bug and I wouldn’t trade him for the world.

Appreciating the Black Cat's Gotcha Day (2)

. . . And I Love Him

A Cautionary Tale

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A Cautionary Tale (2)

Tiki the Escape Artist

Few things cause real panic in cat owners. The retching sound before a hairball is ejected onto the carpet can be scary, and emergency vet trips in the middle of the night are far worse. What makes my heart stop is when an indoor-only cat darts out the door, which is what happened to me last week.

Tiki has lived with us for six years, inside the walls of our little Cape Cod. I don’t know much about her past, except that she was found outside and brought to the shelter. All four of our cats have spent time in the outdoors prior to being adopted.

We keep water bottles at both doors to spray any cats that get uncomfortably close. Some people shake pennies in a coffee can as a deterrent, but the water bottle method works for us. When we leave, we exit with the bottle, placing it outside the door until our return. To enter the house, we crack the door open and start spraying. The cats soon learned not to hang out by the door. We did this for a long time, until we were confident that the cats wouldn’t attempt to bolt. I never thought we would have an escape with a cat who has been inside for six years.

My hubby let the dogs out into the yard to do their business. Red fell over outside, and when he opened the door to go assist him (Red ended up righting himself anyway), Tiki went with him, down the concrete steps into the back yard. She froze at the next to the last step, and he was able to scoop her up and deposit her back into the house. I was coming up from the basement, just in time to see Tiki go out the door. Talk about heart stopping. Incidents like these are why all the cats wear breakaway collars with identification tags, and are also microchipped with a registered chip.

So what have we learned from this potential disaster? Never, ever let your guard down. There are plenty of cats who live inside for years and never make an attempt to go out the door. Tiki had never expressed an interest in going outside until that day, although she loves to sunbathe directly in front of the door. I had let the dogs in and out with her there several times before and she never moved a whisker.

As a cat parent, I am adamant about my cats being kept strictly indoors. Tiki’s less than a minute adventure had a happy ending, but that’s not always the case for other wayward felines. Some never come home. Please remain vigilant in your efforts at keeping them in if you choose to do so, as Tiki just proved to us that you never know.

I would also like to wish the puppy that stole my heart from the first time I saw him a very Happy 16th Birthday! I love you, Moose! xo

A Cautionary Tale (1)

Sunbathing Near the Back Door

Rude Awakening

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Rude_Awakening_Moment

Tiger’s Rude Awakening

Cats can function as furry alarm clocks, especially when it’s feeding time. Some are subtle about it, while others are downright rude, beating you over the head to wake you up. Tiger has his own obnoxious way of telling us when he wants his breakfast.

We have four cats. Vlad will lay on us, Barney will stare from atop furniture, while Tiki taps me on the head, giving me gentle kisses. Not too bad, right? Enter the orange monster Tiger.

He jumps on the bed, all 13 pounds proceeding to pace on our pillows. It’s annoying, but easily ignored. If that doesn’t elicit the response he wants from us, he ups his annoyance game.

On the dresser located next to the bed is a clock radio where an old iPod charges. Tiger has found a way to walk on just the right button to start the music. I’m all for blasting heavy metal, but in the wee hours of the morning, not so much.

Remember I mentioned about being beaten over the head? Tiger takes this to heart. He sits on the dresser, proceeding to swat objects onto the floor. There’s not many things up there that are cause for concern, except the lamp. The heavy, brass lamp. He knocks it down onto the head of the unfortunate person who sleeps on that side of the bed. That unfortunate person is always my hubby. Luckily, he has never suffered a serious injury as a result of Tiger’s wakeup call. Did I mention that Tiger swats the lamp cord loudly against the side of the dresser before sending it crashing down?

I’m not exempt from Tiger’s morning tantrums. He wreaks havoc on my hair, but not all the time. He seems to take offense to the smell after it has been processed. That’s when he tries to wake me up if the hubby won’t respond. He bites as close to my scalp as he can and pulls. Hard. I shouldn’t be surprised that the scent bothers him, because this is the same cat who tries to cover up my coffee mug when it’s sitting out.

Tiger has another tactic to let us know that he wants breakfast. There are two pictures hanging on the wall, accessible to the tabby with attitude. He stretches up from the dresser and proceeds to swat the photos repeatedly against the wall. Wham, wham, wham! I think it is even more obnoxious than blasting the music.

As annoying as all of this is, when he doesn’t do it, we miss it. Tiger wasn’t eating for a couple days, and during that time he wasn’t into his normal routine. We’re not sure what was wrong with him, but he left the vet’s office with an appetite stimulant that got him eating again. I thought he might have a hairball blockage, so I found something at a pet supply store to remedy that. Now that he’s back to his usual self, he’s up to his old tricks. Maybe I will buy hubby a football helmet for Christmas.

Rude Awakening

Looking for a Way Out at the Vet

Meet Tiki

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Meet Tiki (2)

Glamour Girl

Last but not least of our crew to introduce is Tiki. When she came to live with us in 2012, she became cat #4 behind Annie, Ozzy, and Tiger. She has since moved to cat #2 in the hierarchy, after the passing of Annie and Ozzy. She rounds out our fur family which consists of 4 cats and 2 dogs.

Tiki is the second cat I adopted through volunteering. She’s a big girl, who was approximately five years old when we met. She’s a dilute calico, which means that instead of having the usual black, orange, and white fur, her colors are “diluted.” Her coat is gray, tan, and white. I have always wanted a calico cat. Did you know that almost all calico kitties are female? I didn’t, which is why I thought I could easily find a male. Apparently a male is a very rare find.

Tiki is a doll and a beautiful cat, if I do say so myself. I would reach into her cage every shift to pet her, and she would just roll onto her back, loving the attention. She’s a huge cuddle bug.

One morning I was cleaning the cages, with Tiki watching. As I walked past her, out came a white paw with a gentle “notice me” swat. Assuming she wanted a break from her confines, I opened her door and I sat on the bench. Once free, she climbed into my lap, standing up to put her face close to mine. I wasn’t sure what she was doing, but she started licking my nose, giving me kisses. So much for sticking to three cats at home.

I inquired about her and was told that a family was supposed to bring her home, but they never came back for her. It happens. Sometimes people change their minds or go to another shelter. Their loss was my gain, because this girl is fabulous.

She’s a mommy’s girl through and through and I wouldn’t have it any other way. She’s the only female of the fur kids, so we girls have to stick together. She’s often one of the first to arrive to greet me after work, and later watches television with me. Tiki is a lap cat and my bed buddy. As soon as I go into bed, I can count on Tiki to spend the night curled up next to me, sometimes with her head on my pillow. If it’s a cold winter night, she doesn’t mind being covered with a blanket. Since I sleep on my left side, she curls up there, preferring that I drape my right arm across her, with her head cradled in my hand. More often than not we fall asleep like that.

I don’t know what I would do without my girl; she’s such great company. I miss her on the occasional nights when she might choose to sleep elsewhere, or when we travel. It’s said that animals looking for homes often choose their new people, and I’m so glad Tiki chose me.

Meet Tiki (1)

Cuddled in the Crook of My Arm