Lenore at rest

Miss Lenore has the Bathroom of Comfort and Solitude all to herself. She has my favorite chenille blanket all to herself and spends most of the day napping. Apparently the pain meds make her sleepy.

Her nubbin is currently kind of naked, but will be quite adorable when the fur grows back. The stitches are so tiny.

Lenore also had her spay done and has lots of fur to grow back.

I mostly just feel bad about her having to eat and drink while wearing a cone. I help her by heaping her kibble to one side of the bowl.

She's recovering nicely and Annabel Lee has been hanging out by the bathroom door, calling to her buddy inside. In a few days I can get the girls back together but first Lenore needs some healing time.

Lenore's Tail, continued...

The darling Miss Lenore will have her tail amputated on Monday. Dr. Barr at Westchase Veterinary will be performing the procedure and I should be able to pick her up by 9pm on Monday night. By the end of the day, she should have a 2-3 inch stub left with which she may enchant potential adopters.

Until then, I expect she will continue sitting at my desk chair. She's quite the regal kitten and eschews cat lounging spots in favor of human lounging spots. For some reason, this amuses me.

Wuthering Heights and the Joys of Foster Kitten Intake

So, intake is not my favorite part of fostering kittens. Many of our kittens come in as strays and from feral colonies, so they are not in pristine condition when they arrive. The reality generally is that you open a carrier to find a bunch of filthy kittens that are infested with fleas, have swollen wormy stomachs and stink of urine and feces. Yay! They are also generally terrified which makes the process of intake even more "exciting".

Last night I did the full intake for the new Wuthering Heights Kittens, thankfully with the help of several friends. Doing an intake by yourself is hard. It is also way more stressful. Having someone you can hand off the kitten to when you finish bathing it is really, really helpful. They can dry the kitten and you can dry yourself.

So, here's a bit about these kittens and then an overview of my intake process for new foster kittens.

On the Naming of Cats: The newest fosters are a litter of three kittens who don't look like they go together. Approximately 7 weeks old the new kittens are:

• Heathcliff: Orange and white male tabby. Very active. Not food aggressive, but very vocal while eating. Some stray and feral cats growl while they are eating, not as a sign of aggression, but more as a sign of enjoyment. This can really freak people out because they make some crazy sounds. He was hissy and growly at first, but is socializing nicely.
• Catherine Earnshaw: Brown medium hair tabby female. She's gorgeous and very floofy. Slightly timid at first, but now when I open the sliding glass door to the Kittenarium, she is the first one trying to jam her way inside. She has a very wildcat look about her. 
• Linton: All black male with some medium length fur. He's the most timid of the bunch but is well mannered and fairly gentle. This kitten is very observant and is very interested in human activity. He currently has a bit of a limp and may have a sprained or strained ankle. If it isn't better in a day or two, he'll get looked at by a professional.

Here's how intake generally goes:

• Step 1: Get the kitten. Fish a squirming kitten out of a box or carrier without scaring it overmuch and without too many new wounds to yourself. Do not smell the kitten.
• Step 2: Triage. Give the kitten a brief triage style exam, looking for obvious problems. Mostly, I call it checking the holes- checking the status of all openings that are supposed to be there and looking for openings that at not supposed to be there.
• Step 3: Make a plan. Based on triage, what does the kitten need.
• Step 4: Bath time. Bathing a kitten that has just been received is a process that can be rewarding in the end, but is often pretty revolting and stressful. There will be a lot of stuff on the kitten that shouldn't be there and needs to be washed off. The kitten is not down with water. I usually recommend having a human buddy for the first bath. I try to keep my goals simple: don't drown the kitten, rinse until the water runs clear, use water temps that won't cause hypothermia or scalding, try to keep the kitten in the sink, try to get soap on most of the kitten and try to get soap off all of the kitten when you are done. Additionally, keep flicking fleas that are climbing onto the kitten's head to avoid water into the drain. 
• Step 5: Dry kitten and administer forcible loving. Wrap that kitten like a burrito or swaddle it like the Christ child. Keep all legs inside the towel. Rub gently, snuggle often. Aim for purring and a mostly dry kitten.
• Step 6: Medicate. Apply flea treatment and dose with Tape Tabs, Pyratel for worming and Marquis Paste to prevent Coccidia (protozoa that causes diarrhea).
• Step 7: Naptime. Put the kitten into a nice clean place with a litter box, food, water and a den for sleeping and hiding. The kitten will likely partake in all of those activities immediately.

Paint me like one of your French kittens

Oh, Lenore.

Lenore, a 7-8 week old brown tabby was found as a lone kitten in a feral colony. She was collected by a local concerned neighbor and turned in to St Francis. When she arrived in the transport box, she had made herself about as small as she could manage. Since she was going to be paired with Annabel Lee as a roomie, I picked another Poe name for her: Lenore. When I picked her up and held her against me, the purring began.

Once the lady who delivered Lenore left, I started a general exam to get an overview of her condition.First, she was really, really dirty and gritty and second, she had the single worst ear mite infestation I have ever seen in my life. When I gently lifted her ears, there was a solid mass of black. Ear mite frass, wax, debris... in short, a mess. I could not see any of her ear canal on either ear. She was probably just about deaf from the blockage. And, we were off to the sink.

I spend the next hour cleaning her ears. Using swabs, tweezers, warm water and an irrigation bulb I worked away at layer after layer of black muck. I am certain this was uncomfortable. I gave Lenore lots of breaks and allowed her to shake her head between sections of the cleaning. This allows the cat to get some of the liquid out of their ears but has the secondary helpful yet gross effect of helping to eject ear funk. I worked to the point that the major plugs had been cleared from her ear canals. Half a box of cotton swabs and an hour and a half later, I was pretty sure she needed to be done with bathing for the night. 

What I discovered under all the grit and dirt was a rather pretty brown tabby. After the shockingly long bath session, I burrito rolled her in a towel and held her for the next hour and a half as she dried off and warmed up. She purred the entire time. 

When she had finally reached a state of dry-ish, it was off to the Kittenarium for the evening. During the bath I had noticed that her tail was at an odd angle and when she was finally clean and dry I could get a better look. Now that Lenore had decided I was not going to murder her or drown her in the sink, she seemed to think I was pretty ok and let me get some decent pictures.

So, yeah, tails aren't supposed to have right angles. That was a problem. I handled the tail carefully but she didn't seem to be in any pain. I concluded that her caudal vertebra were completely dis-articulated, meaning parts of her tail were no longer internally attached to her spine. That's a problem. When a piece of a body receives that level of trauma, not only are bones broken, buy often nerves and blood supply are affected too. A tail without a blood supply can become necrotic, which is not only fascinatingly stinky, but also super dangerous.

After careful inspection, I found that the tail had no open wounds but appeared to be damaged in three places. Two obvious breaks at the end of the tail, covered in scabs, and above that another section of scabbing with matted fur. Lenore carefully kept her tail underneath her while walking.

On the next morning, Friday, I contacted the charity that for which I foster and received approval to make a vet visit for Lenore. I called the vet and explained the situation and got us an appointment for 3pm on Sunday. Hooray, right?

Then I got home from work and went to check on my charges. Annabel and Lenore both wanted attention so I picked up Lenore and held her against my chest as Annabel curled up in my lap. Yay, happiness and purring. Then I felt a warm and moist feeling seeping through my shirt. I figured I had been peed on and lifted Lenore off of me. Nope, not pee. Urine would have been less alarming. One of Lenore's scabs had cracked open. I could see inside her tail.

Still holding Lenore I called the vet and had our appointment moved up to the next morning. After the call I took a close look at the tail wound and found that, yes, the caudal vertebra was internally severed. Everything below the wound was no longer connected to the spine or musculature. Basically, the tail was attached with skin, scabs and fur. Awesome...

After consulting with the Vet we decided that I should bandage our gal up for the night so she wouldn't get any new particulates into the wound (like cat litter) especially because she was nearly dragging her tail behind her, unable to hold it out of the way because it was broken. My friend Troy dropped by to lend me a hand. In short, don't ever try to bandage a wound on an animal without a second pair of hands. It can go sideways pretty quickly. Troy was a champ, and perhaps because he is 6'5" and a big man, Lenore mostly just stared and him and didn't try to take off.

I trimmed off some fur, applied a non-stick pad, wrapped the tail in gauze and then surgical taped the whole thing in place. All during this, Lenore didn't seem to exhibit signs of pain, meaning her nerves to the area are likely damaged and she wasn't feeling any discomfort.

I set Miss Pathetic back in the Kittenasium and we all settled in for the night. She ate, drank and played with Annabel like nothing was wrong. In the morning, we were off to Westchase Veterinary Center & Emergency. This Vet center is a partner for the foster charity. The techs and vet staff are amazing and kind.

We hung out in a room for a bit. Lenore was a champ, purring so much that Dr. Barr could even listen for heart sounds because the kitten was purring too loudly. Dr Barr wanted to take a closer look at the tail and have her ears cleaned some more and we headed to the back. The vet and techs shaved down Lenore's tail and discovered that the end was indeed held in place with scab and matter fur. As they cleaned the area, more of the tail began to detach. By the time they had finished the cleaning, Lenore was about 4 inches shorter.

WARNING: SOMEWHAT GRAPHIC PHOTOS OF CAT INSIDES AHEAD.

You have been warned... so, here's Lenore's slightly shorter tail.

The end of Lenore's tail had become necrotic and likely would have fallen off in the next day or two. With the washing and cleaning, we just hastened the process along. The dead tail end stunk to high heaven and I think were all relieved when it fell away.

It was pretty gross, but I knew we were in good hands when all the vet techs were entirely fascinated by the broken off tail end and tail stump. Through the process, Lenore purred. The above picture shows her with ears still up, sporting her new sassy shorty tail stump.

Dr Barr gave Lenore a shot of antibiotic and anti-inflammatory medication and decided to let that work and knock down the infection before more was done. Another portion of Lenore's tail will be amputated up to a point where there is healthy skin that can be sutured shut over the tail. Right now, she has a stump that is slowly scabbing over. I clean the stump a couple of times daily and Lenore doesn't notice more than that I am keeping her from playing, napping or eating. She's a pretty fly little cat.

She plays, she eats, she naps and she purrs. And she's tough as hell. Someone is going to be a very lucky human when Lenore is done with being broken and heads off to a new home. Someone is going to be very, very lucky indeed. For now, she's clearly doing hard time...

My Feline Housemates

Neville

Neville sleeping in a basket actually intended as cat bed. 
A miracle.

I was living in the Sewing House with a roommate who had a cat. The cat was very much hers and took joy in the "pet, pet, bite" method acting of pissy housecats. I was very much missing Having a cat that wanted to be with me, and then I had an opportunity.

My friend owns a glass company, and a stray cat had gotten in to his shop and had kittens in the wall. He and the giant teddy bear shop guys chopped through a wall to save the kittens, but mama took off. Well, she turned back up eventually. My friend was about to take her for a spay and realized that her belly was huge and wriggling. Crap. Very, very pregnant. He took the cat home because he's a giant softy and Mama Kitty had a litter of 8 in the bathroom. He and his wife worked to find good homes for all of the kittens, except for the one they kept, Stanley.

I visited the litter of tiny, staggering kittens and one crawled right into my lap. This teeny black kitten yawned like his jaw would unhinge and then passed out on my leg. Yep. I was done for. Mr. Neville got fixed and came home with me, where he has been my shadow ever since.

Named for the "N is for Neville who died of Ennui" sketch from the Gashlycrumb Tinies by Edward

Gorey, Neville started as a litter runt. He would roll onto his back or side and sling a paw across his eyes to block out the light when I got up for work in the morning. Pathetic.

Since then he has grown into a massive cat. He's tall and long and broad with a gigantic head. He now weighs just under 17 pounds and when he walks on your bladder in the middle of the night, you know it.

This time Mama Kitty got fixed and is now living the good life as the official shop cat at my friend's business. Many of the guys have cat treats in their desks and boxes with blankets for when Mama Kitty decides to visit them. It's not a hard life to be loved by a bunch of giant men-folk.

Kitler

A few years ago, my friend Jennie, her boyfriend Brian and I decided to start working with a colony of feral cats at their condo complex. We started trapping the adults for TNVR (Trap, Neuter, Vaccinate, Return) and then found ourselves with a clutch of kittens that were young enough to be socialized. Most of the kittens turned out pretty normal, except for one.

Kitler is cottony soft on the underside 
but only I know that.

So, this fellow started off life under a dumpster and squelching in the mud. When he was trapped, we could not tell he was partially white until we bathed him. His paws were packed with mud to the point that he could not close his toes together, also he had Notoedric mange on his face and ears, leaving him patchy and pathetic..

This kitten had evaded notice and capture, and thus spent an entire week alone under the dumpster during the rainy season. Turns out, this is basically a recipe for a terror cat. Add to his fear of all humans the handsome Reichstache, and this fellow was the least adoptable of the dumpster kittens.

He ran from all potential adopters, and looked like a mass-murdering dictator. What do you do with that? Well, you give it some food, some space and some time, and eventually he comes and sits with you on the couch and creeps into bed late at night. Now, each morning her greets me when I rise, demanding petting along with Mr. Neville.

Scully

She prefers to hold paws while napping.

Scully is a marble tabby lady that I foster failed. Foster failing is when you are supposed to be fostering an animal and it is entirely adoptable, but you fall in love and just keep it instead.

Scully sleeps on my pillow, often with a paw on my head. She likes to hold paws when we sit on the couch to watch tv (she watches too when she isn't napping). When I paint, she perches on the back of my chair and watches me, with one paw delicately placed on my shoulder.

After Kitler, it's nice to have a cat that greets you by running straight at you, tail straight in the air with happy chirps that sound a great deal like a squeaky dog toy. Her names comes from the marble tabby swirl on her side that looks like a fingerprint... it called for a good investigative name. I always loved the X-Files and she seemed like a good Scully. And so she was named.

Fetch me the air pump, the cats have all deflated.

Meowschpringe

Baby Kitler. 
Wiry hair, reichsctache, healing mange and fear.

My cat Kitler has terrible luck. He was born under a dumpster. He contracted mange, was missed during the trapping of his siblings and left to fend for himself for about 7 days. Alone while encrusted in mud and dumpster drippings, I finally nabbed him in a trap and forced him into the easy life of a housecat.

He also has a penchant for falling out of windows. This cat loves cat TV (also known as a window) and when he lays in a window, he fully commits. Kitler sprawls and luxuriates to the point that he has now popped two window screens out and fallen out of two first floor windows.

Thus began meowschpringe.

The first meowschpringe occurred while I was living in Zephyrhills. While living in the house I call Angel Blue, in the pretty adorable downtown area, Kitler dislodged a 1940s screen panel and tumbled outside. The drop was about 5 feet and no doubt he landed on his feet. What followed was three weeks of him creeping around, never actually leaving the property, yet hiding in terror because the world is big. He was sighted almost daily and after a few weeks he just walked back into the house because kibble in the bowl and a couch beats the hell out of Florida in the rainy season.

After that, Kitler was a good deal more appreciative and seemed to love life on the inside.

Then we moved to the Pitch Pine Condo. Apparently the 1980's window screens had lost a bit of tension, so in the middle of the night, Kit fell out of another window. This time I was worried. We were no longer living in Angel Blue, surrounded by fenced yards and unbusy streets, we were living in an urban area with a major street a few hundred yards away.

Kitler, again, was terrified of the gigantic world and wouldn't come home when called, even though he really seemed to want to come home. Meowschpringe II was much more brief, as I was very, very worried. There was a nearby colony of feral cats, all of whom could give Kitler a beat down. With treats and soft words, I coaxed him out from under a bridge over a small pond. Yes, Kitler had resorted to life as a bridge troll.

Look how close I am. Haha. Nope, won't come in.

I saw him and his Reichstache nightly, but he just wouldn't come close enough to catch and every attempt to trap just trapped another colony cat. He hung out tantalizingly close, often visible from my back door. It was exhausting and infuriating. I just couldn't catch the damned cat. Walking around the neighborhood, shaking a bag of treats while calling his name... the neighbors were amused.

So, I built a better trap. It was a ridiculous idea that involved stinky wet cat food, cat treats, a ruler with string tied to it, and a door propped open with said ruler.

I sat on the other side of the sliding glass door, thinking myself an idiot. I was holding a string that traveled through a slight opening in the sliding glass door and connected to a ruler that propped open the screen door on the porch. No way this could work, right? Wyle E Coyote never wins. In short, I felt like a very hopeful fool. And then the damned cat started walking straight into my ridiculous trap.

No way! It's working.

Yank string. Door bangs. Cat trapped.

Well, meowschpringe II ended with a bath, a flea treatment and a lot of forcible lovings. Within 24 hours Kitler was cuddled up in bed with me, offering up his cottony soft belly for petting.

The hope is that we can skip meowschpringe III.

The Collected Works of Poe

Three skinny and lethargic kittens that smelled like urine.

The Poe Collective came into my life on October 24th, 2015.

The Naming of Cats

Finding homes for stray kittens is hard enough, for black kittens, doubly so. To give these tiny, ink black kittens a chance I decided to capitalize on the combination of black cats, Halloween and my love of literature to find some really good names.

Thus, Annabel Lee, Montresor and Edgar Allan were named.

Edgar Allan and Montresor were an adorable bundle of brother cat that enjoys playing, leaping, pouncing and napping together. As such, I worked to find this bonded pair a home together. Annabel Lee was largely disinterested and mostly just wanted to be where the people were.

Annabel Lee, part kitten, part werewolf?
It was as if someone mixed the DNA of Grover, a wookie, a Scottish Terrier and a housecat.

The challenge of fostering kittens is that they come to you in all kinds of sizes, shapes and conditions. In the case of the Poes, they were malnourished and dehydrated. When I first picked them up all I could feel was rib and spine. Although reported at 5 to 6 weeks old, they weighed in at right around a pound each and were still staggering when walking. Their development and size looked more like that of 3-4 week old kittens. Their mother had been spayed several days before the kittens were turned into the foster group and the kibble they had been given was not for tiny kittens. In short, they were skinny, smelly and hungry.

Another fun part of this story is that the kittens were not litter trained. Their momma had been given access to a litter box in another room. The kittens got to go wherever they should squat. That made for an exciting first couple of days and the Poes answered the call of the wild anywhere they heard it's siren song.

The Fattening

The rescue group provided me with canned kitten food and baby cat kibble. I set up a bowl of the kibble for free feeding along with two water stations. Three times daily the kittens were given the canned kitten food with KMR mixed. Kitten Milk Replacement is essentially powdered milk for cats that contains the right amount of fats and proteins that kittens would obtain from normal mother's milk.

When given the wet food / cat milk mix, the Poes would set upon it like wild things. Their faces were so buried in the bowl that they would emerge with faces dotted with gobbets of food, providing a fun snack for postprandial grooming. Yum. Squishy food and kitten fur together.

All three kittens began to rapidly gain weight and started to look like healthy and tumbly kittens in about 6 days.

Exit, two kittens

Edgar Allan and Montresor were adopted as a pair on November 4th, 2015. The brothers went off to live with a pair of sisters. Apparently, the slightly timid but loving Edgar Allan went to the girl just like him, and the ever exploring and exuberant Montresor was paired with a young lady just like him.

Annabel Lee is still running around my home, but has become a close companion to a kitten in need named Lenore.

On their last day with me, Edgar Allan and Montresor went to work with me. In addition to providing my desk with a brief infestation of kittens, they also brought kitten therapy to my coworkers.