Well, after a bit of a rough start- an escape from kitty alcatraz, the kittens have been put in a better cage and with the help of my talented husband, they have several levels inside to hide out in. The cage is large enough for a full-grown German Shepherd to lie down in. It now contains a carpet pad, one litter box, two carriers for the kittens to hide in and a small cat condo (one level)

because there are four kittens, I didn’t want territorial wars, so we built another elevated platform that slides in and secured a comfy cat bed on top. Another shelf in the front contains the new blue jay litter pan from Sturdi products, but instead of using it for a litter pan, it is providing a nice dark bed for them to hide them.

They were pulled out from under a house and honestly, even after being told they were “feral” they aren’t. They are just really scared and the escape from the other cage didn’t help matters. They couldn’t get out of the bedroom and I tore apart the bedroom looking for two of them. I found one laying on the top of my clothes hanging on the hangar and the other one inside the pillowcase of one of the pillows.

So now they have an elite hideaway and I am having to feed them with a syringe because they aren’t eating.

“Mom…Mom…Mom.. MOM! Wake-up!” I woke up to Merlin digging is claws frantically into my arm. Minutes later, kitties came bombing out of the darkeness, landing on my chest, tummy and feet. I groaned “What time is it?” I mumbled. With a long and busy shift at work, I didn’t get home until midnight. More kitties converged until I was covered with them.

“What in the world?” I grumbled. Then a loud “SNAP, POP and a heavy THUD, followed by a stray cat scramble where the kitties fled the room and then complete blackness and silence.

The lights didn’t come back on until 7:00 a.m. A car had hit a transformer and at the same time, one of our trees came down in the heavy wind. Thankfully, it was a small free standing tree by the creek, but loud enough to scare everyone in the house.

How do they know about disasters either man-made or otherwise before they happen? I’m not sure, but their alarm has left some pretty deep scratches on my chest, arms and legs- and remind me…it was not a dream!

Who is this gold-and-white boy, who laid stretched out on the vet’s table on his back, playfully batting the vet’s kind hands away? Who is this male kitty who accepted all the annoying treatments and examinations without once fighting back? I don’t know where Cyclone went, but the vet after hearing his story seemed just amazed that this cat once destroyed a whole room! He laughed and told me that Cyclone needs a new name, but I don’t think so. He earned that name long-ago. I’ll keep it as a reminder that there is hope for the “unsociable ones.”

Cyclone tested negative for all the nasty stuff and he doesn’t have cancer. Thank You God, but instead, the vet surmises that years ago, he either ran into a car, a hoof, or a bicycle and hurt himself pretty badly. He tenses up when he is being touched because of the pain. It is the body’s defense. Vet suggests that the broken canines likely hurt him more. So I am going to start treating his gum disease holisitically, until such a time that the gums calm down and I can afford to get him in for a tooth extraction.

He is back in his cage right now, and in a few days, I will let him out into general population and see how that goes.

Fiona who also went to the vet (she has a growth in her ear) does not have an ear tumor, but she does have a bad yeast infection and the overgrowth is the result of her always scratching. I have been treating (almost endlessly) for ear mites and the vet said I can stop torturing her now because she has a yeast infection! Sorry Kitty, my other vet told me it was ear mites. So that is why the gunk kept forming and the ear stayed inflamed. He put her on Synotic Otic Solution and DMSO. She’s hiding right at the moment, she dislikes going to the vet.

The good news is I got paid today (such as it is) but the bad news is after paying today’s charges, I have twenty dollars left from my check!

Well in true cyclone style, he got out last night. When I went in to feed the cats this morning, there he was lying on the couch looking quite pleased with himself. I had to work a long shift yesterday so I wasn’t home much of the day. Sadly, Mike’s illness has progressed to the point that he can’t even walk out to the enclosure to check on things, so Cyclone probably felt pretty left out.

I put him back in and screwed a board over his escape hole. My concern is he hasn’t been to the vet, and his stomach on both sides is rock hard. No squish room there. My regular vet is on an early vacation and won’t be home till right before Christmas. The feline specialist is in PA right now.

I step into this cage and he greets me with a purr. His tail is full mast and his eyes no longer seem dim. His stomach is rock hard- I suspect that he has been eating items not usually on a kitty menu.

There is no indication of the Cyclone of years past. He doesn’t pace his cage, simply chooses to lay on one of the three layers, or sit atop the cat carrier looking somewhat regal. He loves to have his ears scratched…”ooh mom, that’s it, you nailed the spot!”

I am cautious how I touch him and how much remembering the Cyclone of long ago that went ballistic and aggressive at a moment’s notice. Purring and cuddling in my lap he looks up at me with his golden eyes as if puzzled to why the petting has suddenly stopped. I dare not push the issue, because one trigger could change him in an instant. So we grab all the alone time I can manage and work our way toward understanding each other better. A small glimmer of hope dwells within me, could it be possible that he could merge into general population this time? I don’t know where he has been, just that he has been gone a very long time. He mystifies and delights me and come what may, I am glad he is home.

I first noticed his Royal Feralness when he slipped out from under the house early in the morning and did an impressive hose-down on some plastic garbage bags waiting for pick-up. As I quickly swiped the urine off the plastic bags, I vowed that this gold-and white tomcat?s days of mating would end soon. He made several trips to the outdoor feeders at night chasing the other cats away until he ate this fill. Then, in true tomcat style, he doused the surrounding bushes with this signature scent warning the other cats to stay away from his newly claimed turf. The next evening, I gave my kitty call and the barn cats came running. Quickly, I put them all inside the house. Time to trap this tom.

Within a matter of three days after withdrawing all food sources from the feeders, the orange tom was yowling inside the trap. Quickly, I dropped a dark towel over the trap noting that his substantial size prohibited much movement inside the trap. It was midnight Saturday and since the vet clinic wouldn?t open until Monday, I carried the trap upstairs into the Quarantine Room. After making sure I had all the supplies I would need; food, water, litter, scoop, plastic bags etc.. I opened the trap and stepped back. The tom bolted out of the trap and ran up our eight-foot walls, shredding wallpaper in his wake. He began to run laps around my head over and over- staying right at the base of the ceiling, ripping molding out of the wall! Amazed at this frantic activity and afraid he would stroke out, I left the room securing the door and praying he would calm down soon. The next morning, I returned to the room finding the plastic trellis we had screwed into the wall over the window, left askew. The screen ripped open and ?Cyclone? nowhere to be seen.

This was in 2003 and he returned a week later looking haggard and ill. I was able to scruff him quickly and whisk him off to the vet for an exam and clip job. Unable to merge with my regular cats, this three year old now neutered boy was adopted out a few months later to a farm eighteen miles away. A week later, he showed up, worn out and beat-up at our feral feeders. I made a quick trip out to the farmhouse only to find the road barricaded and the farm completely deserted.

Now, here it is 2010 and Cyclone returned last week. He is out in my cat enclosure recovering from yet another fight and is missing most of his teeth. He is ten years old (thereabouts). Since his first introduction to our family, he has lived outside and in 2006 after nightly raids from coyotes, I assumed he was gone. It appeared he had vanished from the face of the earth. The coyotes in this area leave little behind on their raids and since Cyclone didn?t show his golden face for weeks afterward, I assumed the worst.

Our winter this year, unusually harsh for this area forced me to confine him in my triple level cage. He takes his confinement remarkably well, but we didn?t name him Cyclone for nothing. It is still early, and I suspect, he still has a story or two left to tell me.

Last night, I took two kittens over to a possible forever home. I took Charlie and Shasta. I wanted to take Mercedes but the woman called prior to the appointment and asked for kittens instead of grown cats. I wanted to take Turner but he had other ideas.

My alpha cat Charlie was terrified the entire time he was there. He was trembling so hard and didn’t come out of the carrier unless I took him out. Then once I released him, he bolted for the safety of the carrier. Shasta ended up coming out and hiding under my coat some of the time, then trying to get back to the carrier the rest. It always breaks my heart to leave these guys, even when I know the home is a better place than where they are now. The elderly woman was a bit difficult but the daughters helped to buffer her and dissuade her from picking up the kitty and playing with him. I think the woman was about 80 something.

So I left Shasta and the carrier and called this morning to find out she has taken refuge under the bed, which is normal for them to do. I tried to impress upon these people that it is going to take time. With abused kittens, they have a very low trust meter. Shasta’s world has been rocked and he needs time to adjust. I will miss my snuggly kitty- he liked to burrow his head into my armpit every night and sleep.

I received a call this morning about 5 3 month old fully feral kittens. My heart wants to take them because I was told if I don’t take them- they will be euthanized because they are “to old” to be socialized- which just isn’t true! I told the woman that I regretted not being able to take them and hung up the phone and cried for these beauties.

Yesterday, I received an email from a gal in my area looking for a kitten for her elderly mom. We talked for quite awhile and I convinced her that a kitten for an elderly woman isn’t really the best idea and it would be better to have an older cat. So tomorrow night, I will take Mercedes over to meet the mom and see how it goes.

Mercedes is my true pariah kitty- a pariah kitty is in the cat world, like a shy geeky kid on the playground is to bullies. Regardless of the cat, Mercedes has been bullied since day one. She slinks into each room carefully, looking for cover. She has done this since a kitten and at first, I had no clue why. But as I watched her dart from cover to cover until she could reach my side and do this repeatedly- I decided to investigate her behavior. I found in my research that she is a pariah kitty.

Pariah kitties are rare, but they do exist. I am unsure if it is a scent or a behavior that they give off that triggers the others to attack them- but something about how they move, or look triggers the attack. I have been looking for quite some time for a catless home to put her into. She is such a sweet tuxedo kitty who loves to be petted and hugged but it is dangerous to have her on your lap because she is subject to attack at any time. I still bear the scars of our “petting times.” And those scars aren’t from her being viscious, but from her trying to escape a sneak attack. And it is a sneak attack, I didn’t even see it coming when it hit her.

The weather is once again quite cold and the kitties are responding to the weather by acting crazy. They played all night keeping me awake until 4:00 a.m. The older kitties got me up at 6:00 a.m. so I am pretty sleepy right now.

It’s 29 degrees, and it rained last night so the roads are slick. I am out of dry food so I am grateful for the food donation because this means I don’t need to slide to the store and back to get kitty food! God sure knows what He is doing in my life.

This morning, when I got up to feed, I found to my surprise a large donation of canned food sitting on my porch. I feed mostly dry as canned is expensive and doesn’t last that long with this group. So these cases were a delight.

I opened up the cans in the kitchen and the kitty stampede started. As I was sprinkling the food with L-Lysine, several kitties couldn’t wait and jumped on the counter to “help me out.” I removed my helpers quickly and continued spooning out the early morning grub.

As I sat the multiple trays on the ground, I looked down and saw wall to wall cats eating. You couldn’t even see the floor there were so many cats. I thought to myself “What was I thinking taking on such a large number of cats?” Truly the numbers are overwhelming and I just felt for a moment defeated that I have been unable to place them in a better home. I have a feeling they are all here for life and it just reinforced my feelings that stepping out of rescue this year is what is meant to be. At least, the group has acheived balance- though Hurricane Charlie is still my sprayer when he wants to assert his alpha state. Life here can be a bit interesting at times.

Well it is Sunday and I have to go to work in a few minutes. This is my ten hour shift day so I won’t get home till late. I hope Mike will remember to feed the cats tonight and step out of the way of the masses instead of stepping on a tail!

God Bless whoever it was who left that donation at my gate. The kitties got an early Christmas gift today!

That I was in New York meeting some old friends and making new ones? I guess it was last weekend. The Cat Writers’ Convention was amazing. So many good seminars to attend, I just wish they hadn’t scheduled the seminars together- I missed some good ones.

My interviews went pretty well. I was asked if I would consider doing a For Dummies book, but honestly, I don’t know if that was a serious request or not. It’s so hard to tell, because the professionals are out of their comfort zone, mixing with people and sleeping in late, doing the social game and well, we will just see.

My proposal was taken by several people- but again- it is just one step of several.

I am thrilled that my website was honored for the fifth year in a row. That makes me happy. But now, it is home again and back to reality.

I came home to a sick husband and most of my cats were outside! Yikes! I searched all over trying to locate how they were getting out, and the minute I put them back in the house, they were right back outside again! Finally, with the help of Baker- I watched him to see how he was getting out. I discovered on the back porch, under pop’s workbench that some animal (probably a nutria) had chewed a hole in the floor and left an escape hatch I didn’t see it because we had a bunch of tools and buckets of pipe etc stacked in that corner. I have now plugged the hole and there are no escapes. Everyone is in except for Baker who just doesn’t want to come in the house anymore.