Lovey, Franny, Jackson, and Henry. The saving of the lost cats.

There isn't a veterinary clinic in the world that doesn't have a few special clients who take it upon themselves to be the responsible party in a world of many irresponsible people. 

They are the clients who see a pet in need and do something about it.

The people who pull over to help a pet along the side of the road. Who find a cat near their home and put out food for it, provide it shelter, and even take them to the vet.

Today was a perfect example of the amazing acts of generosity and kindness these people provide.

Franny

Today Jackson, Franny, and Lovey came into the clinic.

Jackson and Franny were found in an abandoned dairy farm barn. They arrived separately and stayed because they were allowed to. They were provided shelter, food and kind words. They are not the first, and surely they will not be the last. Each cat that has arrived, or been left, has been cared for and provided for. Over the year a few have ended up at the clinic and been placed for adoption. The woman who watches the small colony at the farm does so out of the sheer goodness in her heart and the knowledge that if she doesn't these cats will be at the peril of the closest hungry predator. Their lifespan will be short and hard. Every day she checks on them, feeds them, and tries to tame them into trusting her enough to be vetted and placed in a suitable home. It is an act of compassion and dedication.

A  year ago one little affectionate orange kitten was found in the barn. She arrived to be examined, vaccinated, and micro-chipped a few weeks later. With her little inquisitive, charming face, and her unstoppable even in a strangers arms purr, she was so endearing that I couldn't get her out of my mind even days after she left. A week later I called my client, and now very good friend, and asked if she could come stay at our home. Oriole may have started as on orphan but she's one of our family now.

Jackson

Jackson was a kitten who was abandoned. Left to become someone else's worry. Left to be another pet expected to remember how to survive in the wild, but too little to have much luck on his own. He was found, loved, and adopted to a home. He was brought in today by his original mom 18 months later because his new mom needed help to complete his neuter and vaccines.

This is the text I received about him from his original mom.
"I need some advice..I got an email from the lady who adopted one of the black and white kittens I had 18 months ago. She tells me she lost her job and her house and is living in an apartment now and the litter box smell has become a problem. I asked if she has had him neutered and she responds "No."

Wow! Big surprise it smells!! She says she cannot afford it and has not been able to find him a home...Should I offer to pay to neuter him or just take him back? I guess I'm questioning her responsibility. She promised she wouldn't do anything until she heard from me. My thoughts are the litter box smell problem is because he is not neutered."

My reply,
"Offer to neuter the cat. I will do if for free. He is two now and it will be harder to find him a home, and there are still cats at the barn who need homes. At least he is safe and warm and cared for. If he has to go somewhere else we will deal with that later."

Jackson was neutered and I was told that his owner decided to keep him and was very grateful for the help.

Lovey

Lovey was brought in by another client. He wandered into her garage a few weeks ago. The weather has been at record lows, below freezing most nights, and there have been back to back snow storms leaving any available shelter a necessity. Assuming that he belonged to someone she fed him and made him a bed. Weeks later he made no effort to leave the bed nor his food bowl. His newly constructed home was a small area of the garage with a litter box, bed, and food. He was content. So much so that he simply lay on his blankets and purred at the approach of anyone. His charm and perseverance won him a permanent seat in their garage. He came in to be examined and receive the vets official blessing as being "healthy for home life."

Although he is a big stern-faced boy, he is gentle, calm and reserved. He is a perfect cat.

Henry

Henry is my own tale to tell.

On December 27, 2013 with a house full of guests for the holidays that included four boys between the ages of three and eleven, two additional dogs to add to our three, and our three very frightened indoor cats, I opened the front door to our home to try to coax our indoor-outdoor cat Jitterbug to seek refuge inside where it is warm and safe. 

I fret everyday when I let him outside. He is a demanding boy with clear opinions, and the lungs and vocal cords to put a cat cry to center stage at the Met. He is a cat that found us. He came to us years ago as a stray. I let him in and he has graced us with his intermittent presence since.

Whenever company is present he becomes elusive. I had spent all day calling for him. Begging him to come in, knowing that he was likely just a few hundred feet away cowering in the barn waiting for company to leave his house. When nightfall began to appoach I beckoned longer and more forcefully. At about 7 pm I opened the door called a few times and saw him dart in the door. As I closed out the winter cold I turned and looked down at him with my typical cursory, veterinary eye to make sure he looked OK, knowing full well that I won't see him for many more hours until he calls for his freedom at 4 am. When I glanced at him I noticed his chin looked dirty. A second quick glance a split second later and I realized he wasn't Jitterbug.

In that split second I looked at him I thought, "You aren't my cat!"

And, in that split second he looked at me and thought, "This isn't my house!" 

And there we were trapped. I wasn't letting him back out into the cold, I had a dozen creatures in the house that were about to come forward, likely causing him to hit his critical escape threshold and run to find the smallest least accessible hiding spot he could, and I had to decide in this split second what to do.

I bent down faster than a Ninja and scruffed him with my full intent to not let him escape.

Advice from the vet; "NEVER EVER DO THIS!" If a cat bites you, and has no vaccine history that cat will either have to go into a 6 month quarantine OR be put to sleep to check rabies status. Because rabies WILL KILL YOU.

But here I am now with a scruffed unknown cat in my hand and a house full of people. Thankfully he didn't go crazy on me so I placed a blanket around him and carried him to the garage where also thankfully I have a cat carrier. In he went and off I went to set up his temporary home and find Jitterbug.

Henry

I found Jitterbug hours later, with a large abscess on his neck and every sign that he had already met his impersonator and gotten his lunch handed to him.

Inside Jitterbug came. I shaved his wound and started antibiotics. Back to company I went with all my critters safe and sound and an extra guest also warm and safe in the garage

On January 2nd, 2014, after littering my neighborhood with inquiries Henry came to the clinic with me. He had no microchip, but had two tiny scabs indicating he had been recently neutered. I called all of the loal vets, sent his picture and got no leads.

Within two days of our Facebook post we found his dad. We then learned that his name was Henry. He had left his dads house about a month ago and traveled over 5 miles to get to me. He was an affectionate hearty sweet boy and must have met a few other kind people along the way.

His dad consented to microchipping him and keeping him inside the house to try to diminish his wanderlust. Henry's dad promised to bring him back for a visit and call me should he escape again so I can cage Jitterbug and save him another whooping from the kid down the road.

Jitterbug

If you have any pet questions you can ask them for free at Pawbly.com, or visit me on our Facebook page, or Twitter, or even at the clinic Jarrettsville Vet.

Thanks to all of my wonderful kind clients, and all of you, for helping to take care of the cats in need. You all inspire me everyday!

Lost Little Lucy

I know that every veterinarian has those days where things go wrong to the point of actually watching to see if you are stepping on the cracks in the floor, pacing around the hospital and obsessively knocking on any wooden structure available, and trying to not pass the path of Kiki, or resident black cat.

Yesterday was one of those days. I will add that in light of some of our more recent events, namely one of our little boarders being attacked by one of our much bigger boarders (thankfully everyone is fine). Yesterday was more comical than tragic.

I was busy doing my little Wren's spay and corrective eye surgery and completely consumed in her, to the point that I lost all track of time and space. i know that I was in surgery with her for more than an hour, but I couldn't tell you if it was 20 minutes or four hours longer than that. I was so worried about her and trying to not worry about her, so I could stay focused on her surgery and not on the fact that it was "her" under my scalpel that I just got lost in the void. On top of that, my technician, who is my constant surgical technician and knows me to well to be able to bluff in front of her anymore called me out on it.

"I don't know how can you do surgery on your own pet?" A very valid question. I replied, "Well, I sort of feel stuck." "I actually thought about not doing it, because I have gotten soo attached to her, but I feel like I can't ask my associates to do it. I mean, how would they feel if anything happened and they killed the bosses cat?" I wouldn't want to be put in that position, so I can't put them in that position." "And she also needs her eyelids corrected and what if she comes out looking all lop-sided, crazy-eyed? I don't want to feel like maybe if I had done it they would have come out better." So, I was going to do it and that was that.

I did remind her that when Ambrose, my old pit bull, needed what we expected might be a very difficult and involved surgery I took him 2 hours away to a very good surgeon that I knew would do a great job, but also not see again because he is four other surgical specialists further away, JIC Ambroses surgery went terribly wrong. But i told her it did cross my mind to repeat this. Then i thought, "ok, my colleagues are going to think that I am completely nuts if I bring a boarded surgeon my cat to spay." I am not sure they even would remember how to spay a cat?" No, I was stuck with Wren again.

Wren's surgery went fine. It took me a long time, (I guess), but she did great under anesthesia, and I had no complications. She was not happy when she woke up, and I spent abut another hour carrying her around and apologizing to her cursing whines.

Wren. Waking up from surgery, and not happy.

At about early-afternoonish I came back into the surgery area and saw all of my techs huddled together and whispering. I could tell by their faces that this wasn't the routine gossip looks, this was the "OMG, what do we do know, and how do we try to keep this one from our boss?" look. "OK, what's wrong?" I asked. One of them pointed to a cat cage that still had its litter box, cat bed, and food in it, but had it's door open and no cat inside.

"Yeah? SO?"

She replied, "The new owners are here to pick Lucy up, but she's not in her cage." "We are trying to figure out if anyone has seen her today, or if she was picked up last night by the person who is giving her away."

That's where all of the whispering was coming from. Everyone trying to ask each other if she was in the cage last night? Was she sent back home last night with the woman who brought her from her farm? Was the fed this morning and then we forgot to close the cage door? Did anyone see her roaming around the clinic? What doors were open this morning when the first tech arrived? Could she have possibly slipped through one of our many exit doors? Was she hiding somewhere? What do we tell the new owners who are sitting out in the reception area? whisper, whisper, whisper...

"OK, let's get some facts." I said.
1. She couldn't have slipped out, because all of us know better than to open a door with a cat around, and one of us would have seen her if she tried to dart out.
2. the doors surrounding the surgical area, (because that's where she was last night), ( of course, she was in a cage 3 feet away from me the whole time I was doing Wren's surgery and I never even noticed an open, set-up, but empty cage, I was totally oblivious), were all closed last night. So she couldn't have escaped out of the surgery area.
3. The pm kennel person was SURE she was in her cage last night when we all left.
4. I am VERY SURE, that every possible cat hiding spot has already been identified and sealed shut. (there was a loose cat about four years ago that got behind the files, found a very small hole, and somehow Houdinied his way into the wall, then 4 feet from the hole in the wall and then got stuck. When I called my husband to tell him that we had finally found where the cat was (three days later) and told him that I needed him to come bust a hole in the wall so we could pull him out, he replied to me, "He'll come out when he is hungry, and I am not making another hole in the wall." "I reminded him that he was stuck, hungry, and that I wasn't really asking for permission." I told him that I was just asking him because "I thought that the hole might be easier to fix if he made it, but I was happy to do some renovations if needed." He cut the wall, got mauled by the now very scared cat while trying to extract him, and then we made sure every possible hole, regardless of size, was closed from that day forward. (P.S. the cat was fine, Joe was too), But, sorry, and thanks honey.  ;-)
5. We were going to go out and tell the new owners, who had by now been waiting about 20 minutes and realized something was up. the truth. "We hadn't really lost, but never the less couldn't find their new cat."


As I left the huddled the gang dispersed to comb the cluttered hospital. This isn't the first cat who has gotten out of our hands and we had some "favorite" first hiding spots to check. Behind the x-ray unit, under the dental sink, behind the oxygen tanks. I felt pretty sure Lucy wasn't going to find a spot we didn't already know about.

As the staff went to turn over every stone I headed to the reception area to meet the new owners.

There they sat, two women, with blankets, new food, and happy expectant smiles on their faces. "Oh, this is just perfect." I said to myself, we finally get a cat adopted, (albeit not one of ours, but still a big day for all of us!) "And I get to disappoint these new moms." "Crap!" I thought again. As I approached them you could hear all of the furniture being moved around upstairs, people calling, and walking, and staff members with flashlights came to search the waiting area. It wasn't too difficult to figure out what I was about to tell them.

Thankfully they are very good clients of ours, and we all laughed, and then even offered to help tear the place apart looking for her. (Gosh we are so lucky to have great clients).

I told the new owners that somehow she had gotten out of a cage that required apposable thumbs to open. When I said this they got worried about how to contain their new bundle of joy in their big cavernous labyrinth of a basement. We all decided that a small bathroom might be a better first stop to put her, (less places to hide).

after an hour of looking we decided she was in a better spot than her prior "at large escapees." I told the owners, who were now late in picking up their kids, that we would put out a humane trap with food and hope to catch her over night.

Two hours later we found her behind the surgical drapes sleeping.

We sent her to her new home and I will keep you posted on how she does.

Lucy is a sweet cat with some hidden talents, good luck.

Wren recovering at home, day of surgery. Lying on the warmest place in the house.

Wren sleeping on a heating pad, next to me, night of surgery. Still feeling a little crummy.