All About the Kitten
Everyone seemes to be interested in the Kitten I have been babysitting, so I`ll tell you the whole story. Hopefully I can get through the entire thing before she chews a body part off...
Her name is Annabelle, and I am watching her for my parents, who adopted her because of me. I work for a property management company in the City of St. Louis, and I have the singular honor of trolling through the seamy underbelly of the city. In fact, I sometimes visit places the police refuse to patrol, and I get to see the great triumph of liberal thinking in all it`s glory! On one such venture I went to a property which was a single-family house converted into a two family building. We had this low-life tenant on the first floor we were evicting, and when I came into the common hall I found (as usual) a mess of dirty clothes, trash, old furniture, etc. Also, there was a filthy trash can sitting by the door, and inside that trash can was a tiny kitten trying with what little strength she had left to jump out. Needless to say, I was furious! The temperature was over 95 degrees, and the poor creature was clearly left to die. I took her out of the trash and drove to my parents house, where they received the gift of a kitten (wether they wanted one or not!) with good grace.
My mother named her Annabelle, and she was in sorry shape. She had a terrible case of conjunctivitis, and both of her eyes were swollen shut; she had to FEEL with her paw whenever she moved. She was seriously underweight. She was badly dehydrated, had fleas, ear mites, and was covered with feces. The Vet said she has an ulcer in her eye which was undoubtedly the result of being kicked. (The Vet said she would like to take a bullwhip to the people who had mistreated her so badly!) She was about 5 weeks old, according to the Vet, and had just learned to eat.
My parents nursed her back to health, teaching her to use a litter box (which she still hasn`t quite mastered; she scrapes litter with her FRONT paws, thus failing to cover her ``Dick Durbin``)and treating her for all of the maladies she was afflicted with. The only problem was that they were planning a vacation, so I had to take the little cutie for two weeks.
This has presented a number of problems; I have two male cats, both of whom I also rescued in one capacity or another. This has required that we keep Annabelle upstairs in our bedroom (which is a suite of two rooms)and we have had to limit contact between them. Annabelle, feeling good for the first time in her life, is constantly racing around and scratching and biting on me whenever I stop moving. I fear I may not be able to finish this piece before she finishes me!
My first cat was Blackberry, a Bombay cat (which resembles a black panther)who would look at home in a witches cottage. The English used to call witches or enchanted cats Blackberry Cats, so that`s where I got the name. He is the smartest non-human creature I have ever encountered, and is loyal to boot. I found him abandoned by some low-life we had to evict. He was trapped outside for a week during a very cold snap in late November (20 degree weather), living with some feral cats in an abandoned building. A dog had gotten ahold of him, and had chewed his tail up something aweful. He was at the door to the building, waiting to be let in when I found him. I brought him home with me (which about killed me; he kept trying to get under my feet as I drove!) and he has been my best friend ever since!
We got our second cat from the Humane Society. Our original plan was to get a female kitten (so Blackberry could have a companion) but when we went into the shelter we were immediately drawn to a very sad looking butterscotch tabby. His name was Goccia (which I have since learned is Italian for a drip or drop) and he looked as if he had lost all hope (he was 8 years old, so he probably had good reason to lose hope!) We immediately adopted him, and he has been a great cat,very sweet, although he is a bit of a grouch. He hissed at me and bit me as we were filling out the adoption papers! We had a terrible time acclimating him to our home because Blackberry was simply NOT going to allow another Tom in his castle! Poor blackberry stopped grooming, lost a lot of weight, and was clearly a nervous wreck. Goccia had to endure endless stalking and attacks from Blackberry, but eventually they came to tolerate each-other, and now I think they are friends. It was a long and difficult process.
That`s what made bringing Annabelle in so difficult. I was more concerned about Blackberry than Goccia, although Blackberry has been very good with her, while Goccia has been hissing. It`s hard to figure cats out!
Anyway, Annabelle is doing fine. She runs around crazily, and wants constant attention, which makes blogging very difficult. She is cute as a button! I`m going to have a hard time giving her back when my parents return! I have to go to bed around 7 p.m., because Annabelle wants to play for about two hours after we get in bed, and then she falls asleep tucked under my arm (I have to be careful in the night not to roll over on her!) My wife moved down to the guest bedroom, leaving me to entertain the little kitten (I`m still not sure how that happened!) She is just darling, but she is a real handful!
For all of you who would like pictures, I would love to post them, but I haven`t the foggiest idea how to do it! I have never really gotten the hang of this newfangled contraption (I`m still mastering the slide-rule).
Anyway, between the kitten, a busy spurt at work, and my backyard vineyard (which is requiring a lot of work this next week) my blogging may be a bit thin. Please bear with me; I`ll post up what I can (before Annabelle shreds my legs with her claws!)
Best,
Tim
Her name is Annabelle, and I am watching her for my parents, who adopted her because of me. I work for a property management company in the City of St. Louis, and I have the singular honor of trolling through the seamy underbelly of the city. In fact, I sometimes visit places the police refuse to patrol, and I get to see the great triumph of liberal thinking in all it`s glory! On one such venture I went to a property which was a single-family house converted into a two family building. We had this low-life tenant on the first floor we were evicting, and when I came into the common hall I found (as usual) a mess of dirty clothes, trash, old furniture, etc. Also, there was a filthy trash can sitting by the door, and inside that trash can was a tiny kitten trying with what little strength she had left to jump out. Needless to say, I was furious! The temperature was over 95 degrees, and the poor creature was clearly left to die. I took her out of the trash and drove to my parents house, where they received the gift of a kitten (wether they wanted one or not!) with good grace.
My mother named her Annabelle, and she was in sorry shape. She had a terrible case of conjunctivitis, and both of her eyes were swollen shut; she had to FEEL with her paw whenever she moved. She was seriously underweight. She was badly dehydrated, had fleas, ear mites, and was covered with feces. The Vet said she has an ulcer in her eye which was undoubtedly the result of being kicked. (The Vet said she would like to take a bullwhip to the people who had mistreated her so badly!) She was about 5 weeks old, according to the Vet, and had just learned to eat.
My parents nursed her back to health, teaching her to use a litter box (which she still hasn`t quite mastered; she scrapes litter with her FRONT paws, thus failing to cover her ``Dick Durbin``)and treating her for all of the maladies she was afflicted with. The only problem was that they were planning a vacation, so I had to take the little cutie for two weeks.
This has presented a number of problems; I have two male cats, both of whom I also rescued in one capacity or another. This has required that we keep Annabelle upstairs in our bedroom (which is a suite of two rooms)and we have had to limit contact between them. Annabelle, feeling good for the first time in her life, is constantly racing around and scratching and biting on me whenever I stop moving. I fear I may not be able to finish this piece before she finishes me!
My first cat was Blackberry, a Bombay cat (which resembles a black panther)who would look at home in a witches cottage. The English used to call witches or enchanted cats Blackberry Cats, so that`s where I got the name. He is the smartest non-human creature I have ever encountered, and is loyal to boot. I found him abandoned by some low-life we had to evict. He was trapped outside for a week during a very cold snap in late November (20 degree weather), living with some feral cats in an abandoned building. A dog had gotten ahold of him, and had chewed his tail up something aweful. He was at the door to the building, waiting to be let in when I found him. I brought him home with me (which about killed me; he kept trying to get under my feet as I drove!) and he has been my best friend ever since!
We got our second cat from the Humane Society. Our original plan was to get a female kitten (so Blackberry could have a companion) but when we went into the shelter we were immediately drawn to a very sad looking butterscotch tabby. His name was Goccia (which I have since learned is Italian for a drip or drop) and he looked as if he had lost all hope (he was 8 years old, so he probably had good reason to lose hope!) We immediately adopted him, and he has been a great cat,very sweet, although he is a bit of a grouch. He hissed at me and bit me as we were filling out the adoption papers! We had a terrible time acclimating him to our home because Blackberry was simply NOT going to allow another Tom in his castle! Poor blackberry stopped grooming, lost a lot of weight, and was clearly a nervous wreck. Goccia had to endure endless stalking and attacks from Blackberry, but eventually they came to tolerate each-other, and now I think they are friends. It was a long and difficult process.
That`s what made bringing Annabelle in so difficult. I was more concerned about Blackberry than Goccia, although Blackberry has been very good with her, while Goccia has been hissing. It`s hard to figure cats out!
Anyway, Annabelle is doing fine. She runs around crazily, and wants constant attention, which makes blogging very difficult. She is cute as a button! I`m going to have a hard time giving her back when my parents return! I have to go to bed around 7 p.m., because Annabelle wants to play for about two hours after we get in bed, and then she falls asleep tucked under my arm (I have to be careful in the night not to roll over on her!) My wife moved down to the guest bedroom, leaving me to entertain the little kitten (I`m still not sure how that happened!) She is just darling, but she is a real handful!
For all of you who would like pictures, I would love to post them, but I haven`t the foggiest idea how to do it! I have never really gotten the hang of this newfangled contraption (I`m still mastering the slide-rule).
Anyway, between the kitten, a busy spurt at work, and my backyard vineyard (which is requiring a lot of work this next week) my blogging may be a bit thin. Please bear with me; I`ll post up what I can (before Annabelle shreds my legs with her claws!)
Best,
Tim
posted by Timothy Birdnow | 3:12 PM
6 Comments:
bonnie, same thing with me. my shoulder totally hurts with my cutie sleeping in the crook of my arm.
Tim - WONDERFUL post. Thank you so much for filling us in. Thank goodness you found her. How horrible that anyone would treat such a special little girl that way.
As for pictures, if you have any saved to your computer, blogger gives you the option to upload. When you go to post, click the picture icon, then you can hit browse I think which will let you find the picture on your computer. Upload it and then continue your post and it will post. We really want to see her! :)
Timothy,
Cats rule, and usually the females dominate the males. And aren't kittens wonderful? Don't bother trying to figure cats out--they are inscrutable, like Charlie Chan. Thanks for all the info about Annabelle. I was wondering about the little darling.
My husband and I have four cats. Sheba, our oldest, just turned 17 this month. I can't believe she's lived so long because she had such a rough start--she was malnourished, with shortness of breath because of the lack of proper food, and sleeping with the winos when my husband found her. She was so feral that she peed everywhere to mark her territory. She even peed on my husband! We got her over that habit within a few weeks, and Sheba settled in. She's the oldest of our four girls and definitely alpha cat although our youngest, Cameo (a Siamese mix), very much wants to be alpha.
Sheba appears to be senile now, but she's still eating and putzing around. As long as she's not suffering, we'll put up with her senility problems, which include night-crying and forgetting her way to the litter box (She uses the litter area when she's prompted). For some reason, in her old age, Sheba has quit sleeping with us--which is too bad because, as I implied above, she has cognitive issues at night.
BTW, Timothy, I put a link to your site up on my site.
Bonnie and Esther,
One of our girls, Dusti, is a "butt baby," Gives my lower back fits, but she insists that I sleep on my stomach so that she can sleep on my butt.
OK, Tim -- you started the collective cyber-awwwwww when it comes to cats and cute kitties. I have two of my own babies, the last in a long series of cats that go back to my earliest childhood. I always managed to wheedle my parents into letting me have a cat. My two babies don't sleep with us, except rarely, for which, to tell the truth, I'm grateful, because I do like to sprawl. I got them a nice big soft and comfy cat bed which is big enough for two, and most nights they cuddle up together -- you can hardly tell where one ends and the other begins. I just can't imagine people being so cruel to such a tiny, defenseless critter. Also your description of Goccia sounds so familiar to me. When my husband and I went to adopt some cats from the Animal Shelter after our beloved cat of 15 years passed away, I was immediately drawn to Penny (pictured on my blog) because she was not only a beautiful brown tabby, but because she was so inconsolably grief stricken. I had never seen such an expression of loss and grief on an animal's face before and my heart just broke. I had to take her home. Even though the people who had given her up had written all sorts of horrible things about her -- she was "reclusive" and "hated people". How could that be true, I though to myself, if she hated people why was she so grief stricken about finding herself alone in a cage among strangers? She turned out to be the biggest softie on the planet, follows us around constantly and demands lots of attention and affection (and gives it) and is amazingly attuned to anyone who is sick or suffering, always rushing to offer solace and comfort. To our relief both cats eventually decided they were the best of friends (we adopted young adult females) -- and after some initial hissing, growling and stalking, and eventually a good fight which seemed to settle the pecking order once and for all, they are the best of friends. I shudder to think what will happen if one goes first.
Always love those cat stories -- they never fail to bring a tear to your eye. I think people who hate cats simply have never been owned by one.
(Tim -- you can put even regular photos in your computer if you have a scanner -- that's what I do because I still don't own a digital camera. We will keep nagging until you figure it out ;-)
Thank you, Tim, for the story.
The difference between cats and dogs: You feed your dog, you walk your dog, you bathe your dog, you pet your dog, and the dog thinks, "Wow, he must be a god!"
You feed your cat, you bathe your cat, you pet your cat, and she thinks, "Wow, I must be a god!"
See, dogs think of you as family; cats think of you as staff.
Actually, after a young life as a cat hater, a prejudice I inherited from my mother, I became a strong cat fancier.
In my first apartment, my upstairs neighbor had been adopted by a young black cat who had been (cruelly) abandoned by some scumbag "humans."
He, the kitten, would come walking into my apartment as if he belonged there, leap up onto my desk, walk around as if he belonged there, and leave dusty footprints on my papers.
He was absolutely fascinating.
And I have been fascinated by feline-Americans ever since.
Thanks again, Tim, and everyone else, for your cat tales.
P.S. Even my mother eventually had cats in the family.
Bonnie, you crack me up. I will forever think of you when I feel the need to crack my shoulder. ;)
Like you, my mom didn't let me have a cat but I was fascinated by my neighborhood pal's cat. But we didn't interact too much.
I've loved all these cat tails/tales too, so I'll share mine.
It wasn't until I moved out on my own. My roommate got a dog. It needed something at the pet store so I went to pick it up. It was cat adoption day. I saw the most beautiful grey tabby and fell in love. I asked if I could hold her. Well, they must have seen sap written across my forehad. The woman said, "Everyone picks her up but they all put her back afterwards. All the others in the cage have found homes." Well, my heart broke so I had to take her home with me. She was my best friend and constant pal for the next 6 years. Sadly, I didn't know that when a cat vomits liquid and only liquid, it could be an indicator of dehydration and kidney failure (I'd only had hamsters!). By the time I found out, she only had 15% useage left. Broke my heart. She lasted a month on sub-q fluids but one day I woke up and she was in her cat carrier. I'm sure many of you can relate that this was a freak occurance -- she HATED her carrier. It was the sign I was waiting for that she was tired of fighting. Broke my heart. Had to put her down...on Mother's Day of all days. :(
After I returned from a trip a few months later I was ready to get my next kitten. I rescued her from a shelter. She was only 6 weeks. TROUBLE and a Drama Queen. She is a calico and always needs to take attendence. Smells your breath and then runs off. She was only a few months old when I had my apartment fire (see a pix on my site of the fire under "Renters Insurance" - lol). It was late December so she was kept warm in a fire truck -- only when I went to leave, it turned out she was in the truck next to the blaze! Explains some of her wacky behavior maybe.
She liked to play catch at 4 am and do destructive things so I figured she needed someone to play with. Only I ended up getting her a playmate who doesn't want to play with her. 7 years later and they still barely get along, lol.
These stories are all so touching!! Maybe I should start a new blog-Catblog! I would have no dearth of first-rate stories!
Thanks everybody!
I`m working on those pictures-be patient, and maybe I can get some to you.
Post a Comment
<< Home