Willow and Giles Update; Skittles too!

Kitty successes everywhere!

As I mentioned in my blog yesterday, I released Willow and Giles, but was worried they'd just disappear, especially Willow, who was really annoyed at her incarceration. But then I saw Willow later yesterday afternoon and again this morning, when I went outside to feed the cats. And bonus! Giles was with her this morning. No disappearing for a week like Buffy did! That's a huge success, right there.

And since we're updating on kitties, I should also mention that Skittles just hit another huge milestone in her road toward socialization. In addition to the bathroom, my front porch has become another spot where Skittles allows me to pet her. For months, we've followed a very specific set of rituals. The one in the bathroom and the one in the mornings, when I wake with Skittles on my bed, I've already detailed in previous posts. This latest ritual involves me arriving home from work and walking from the kitchen into the living room.

Skittles always meets me in the doorway between the kitchen and the dining room. She circles in front of me, darts a couple steps away, circles back, meows at me, then darts a few more steps away. She continues this ritual of back-and-forth as I slowly follow her toward the front door. Once she's assured I'm definitely following, she darts through the pet door onto the enclosed front porch. When I open the door and follow her, she meows at me from under the chair. I then have to move the chair out of the way, to reveal her beneath it so that I can pick her up. Some days, she will allow me to pick her up immediately. And some days, she makes me work for it, moving from under the chair to under the table, then once I've moved the table, darting behind a cat tree. Once I've moved the cat tree, though, she usually lets me pick her up.

We sometimes repeat this ritual in the mornings. Some days, I'll wake and discover that Skittles isn't on the bed with me, which usually means she's on the front porch. Typically, on these days, when I open the front door, I'll find Skittles relaxing on a cat tree, but only for a split second. The moment the door starts to open, she's down and under the chair, and thus our ritual begins again.

And so these rituals have continued, day after day, month after month, providing me several opportunities each day to further bond with Skittles. Which brings me to our latest milestone: when I went onto the front porch this morning, instead of jumping down to hide under the chair, Skittles stayed in her spot on the cat tree. She just let me go up to her and pet her a bunch, then walk away. No hiding under a chair this time around.

It's funny because I keep thinking that I've probably gotten as far as I'll get with her, in terms of trust. We'll go months without any change in behaviors and then suddenly, she'll make another huge leap forward. Today was that day. And I'm just overjoyed.

Another Feral Family

Just when I think I've finally managed to get the feral population, at least in my own backyard (and on the abandoned property next to me), under control, I am proven wrong. Again.

It's my own fault. Life got away from me. I managed to trap and spay Buffy, but never did catch Willow. And the next thing I know, there she is with two kittens. And one of those kittens, a tiny blonde who looked a lot like Buffy and Crookshanks, disappeared after only two sightings, before I could manage to trap her.

And so I had Willow and a little gray kitten to worry about. I started feeding the cats in one of my larger cat carriers. And shockingly, managed to trap, first Willow, and then the gray kitten, without any trouble at all. Willow wanted nothing to do with me. Hissing and growling and generally acting like the feral cat she is, it was a challenge to give her fresh food and water over the long, holiday weekend.

The kitten on the other hand, was a bit subdued and allowed me to pet him/her on a couple occasions.

I took the two into the Humane Society first thing Tues. morning and paid for TNR packages on both. This is where I always have my dilemma. Do I beg for space for the kitten, who is definitely young enough to be socialized?

This kitten is so young, in fact, I don't believe he's even hit that magic age the Humane Society and other rescue organizations put such stock in. The reality is that kittens can be tamed well past that supposed 8-10 week magic cut-off date - as seen with both Skittles and Buffy. It simply takes time and patience, something most rescue organizations simply cannot afford to offer. They need to be able to move their incoming pets out as quickly as possible, to make room for the other homeless animals coming in.

I've seen too many kittens become cats in cages, waiting for that forever home. It's so difficult to know what to do. The kitten is happy with his mama in my backyard, roaming free. His life will undoubtedly be harder and shorter because he's not an indoor cat, but can I claim that his life in a cage in a shelter would be any better? The dilemma is one I hate having to even contemplate.

The Humane Society makes it easy for me, telling me they have no room to take in this kitten, whom they've determined is a male. And so I bring Willow and her kitten, whom I've named Giles, home with me. I keep them in their cat carriers, feeding them, bonding with the kitten, while the mother ignores me, hisses at me, growls and swats at me, watches me in fear.

And finally today, desperate to give Willow her freedom, to end her torture at being locked up, and knowing I've done the best I can to give her time to recover from her surgery, I carry both carriers out and set both cat and kitten free.

Now to wait and see if Willow will ever trust me again. If Giles will continue to let me pet him, now that he is free to roam the neighborhood once more.

Buffy, the Friendliest Feral

The weather's finally gotten warm enough where I can sit out on my back porch and write.  Buffy has continued to allow me to pet her and occasionally hold her.  On one memorable occasion, when it was snowing and she was quite wet, she allowed me to pick her up, carry her inside and dry her off with a towel before carrying her back out.

Today as I write this, she lounges against my leg, keeping me company.

Truly I'm blessed. Five wonderful cats inside and the amazing Buffy outside.

Since Skittles is now an inside cat (she shows zero interest in leaving the house and in fact, whenever I open an outside door, runs away), she has many more interactions with me on a daily basis than Buffy does, and yet is definitely harder to catch and nowhere near as willing to just relax and hang out with me - at least not unless she's out of arm's reach!  As a result, I have to say, Buffy may be edging Skittles out for the title of Friendliest Feral.

From Feral to Friendly

Remember my hope that Buffy would one day allow me to pet her?  Well, it's happened!  Over the past week, she's been doing that circling around thing that Skittles always does.  She circles right in front of me or to the side and rubs up against everything in her vicinity.  I know what she wants because it's what Skittles wants in those moments. The problem is neither cat is certain I can be trusted to give them exactly what they want (and that I'll let them go once I've given it to them), so they make me work for it.

I have to be calm and coaxing without pleading and yes, I have to be faster than the kitty.  Sometimes Buffy won't let me touch her at all (like I said - just like Skittles).  And sometimes she'll only let me reach under the feeder where she hangs out and pet the top of her head or scratch under her chin (this is a much more comfortable arrangement than the one Skittles initiated with me several months ago).

Today though was an amazing day.

Today, Buffy let me pick her up and hold her.  I honestly cannot believe how different she was when I grabbed her this time.  I expected to get scratched and bit again for my troubles, but instead, the minute I caught her, she started to purr - just like Skittles!  Of course, I couldn't hold her for very long, but long enough to warm my heart ... and to take a selfie. 

 
Of course, Buffy wasn't quite sure what to make of the photo op and moments after this photo was taken, she became a bit restless.  I made it a point to carefully set her down on the ground, rather than allowing her to escape.  I wanted her to start trusting that I would always let her go after holding her.  Biggest success?  After releasing her, she didn't run away, but instead happily began to eat her dinner.

Brave Little Buffy

Buffy is an absolute trooper.

She's started coming around and greeting me every day.  I go out to feed the cats in the mornings and I hear her meowing all the way to my backyard. Same thing when I pull into the driveway at night. She mostly hangs on the property next door, under the porch or in their detached garage but when she hears the swing of my backdoor or the sound of my car pulling into the driveway, she meows her way to my back patio.

She has the cutest little meow and I can't help but hope that one day she'll actually let me pet her.  Hey, it could happen!

The Release Phase

I released Buffy this morning.  It was so hard to do, but I did it anyway.  

I set the carrier outside on the ground, facing the area where I feed her, to orient her.  I left the carrier closed for a minute so she could feel the breeze and possibly register where we were, then I opened the door.  She sat there for a minute and then she bolted.  It'll probably be a while before I see her again.  She'll try to keep out of my sights until she no longer remembers my audacity in grabbing her like I did.

My brain knows this is best for her.  She won't be happy inside and I already have a full house of completely indoor cats and there just isn't room for one more.  Still my heart wants to keep her and work on socializing her. 

I keep telling myself I've done everything I possibly can to give her the best possible chance of survival.  I had her spayed and got her shots.  She's been dewormed and given flea meds. I'll continue to feed her and give her water, but she's just so little still.  They said five months at the Humane Society, which according to most rescue organizations is past the age of socialization.

Five months in kitten-world though is still little, and I'm thinking she's fairly small for her age as well.  I just hope she makes it through the winter. I'm not the right person to do this whole TNR thing (Trap-Neuter-Release), at least with kittens. When they're full-grown adults, it's not a problem for me. But when they're kittens, I feel so cruel not investing the time to socialize them because I know from personal experience that it's not about the age of the kitten.  It's simply about the patience and effort you're willing to invest in the process of socializing them.

Buffy the Feral Kitten

It's a regular kitten parade over at my house.  I dropped off two of the kittens I've been fostering to a shelter last Saturday (they'll be taking the third kitten this Saturday) and discovered at least one kitten running around my property the very next day.  She's blonde and adorable, but quite fierce and so I named her Buffy.

No matter how often I do this - rescue kittens from wherever I find them (feral and not) - I just never seem to get it right.  Sure I should have set out a trap and sure I logically know that the ole snatch-and-grab is never a good plan when dealing with ferals, but when opportunity presented itself this morning, I just couldn't resist.

On the plus side, I was wearing gloves, so they mostly protected me.  I was absolutely shocked when Buffy came right up and ate the food as I set it out rather than waiting as usual for me to walk away.  Since she approached unexpectedly, I went ahead and went for it.  Needless to say, when I grabbed her, she went insane, snapping and biting at me.  Somehow I managed to keep hold of her though and got her into the house and into a carrier, but it was touch-and-go for a minute.  She did not like the turn of events.

I have a kitten who will be spayed in the morning though, a kitten who was absolutely destined to drop litters in my backyard for the next ten years, which would involve those kittens dropping more litters, so all things considered, today was a rousing success.

After getting Buffy into the carrier, I immediately took her to the Humane Society.  I was hoping they would agree to find a home for her, but was told she was already too old for socialization. Of course, I know this isn't really true - after all, I've managed to socialize Skittles who was on her own for the entire first year of her life. It just takes patience and a lot of calm, caring, soothing effort. 

I completely understand why this is the Humane Society's stance though. Some kittens are easier to socialize than others, but bottom line, shelters have to focus on helping those they truly believe they can adopt out and a feral kitten is always a long shot.  So, though it broke my heart, I requested the feral package, which involved spaying her, giving her shots and tipping her ear.

I'll pick her up tomorrow, keep her for the weekend to ensure she recovers well from the surgery, and then I'll release her once more to the wilds of my backyard.  I absolutely support the efforts and theories behind TNR (Trap-Neuter-Release) programs, but the release part is always the hardest to manage for me.  If I could find homes for all of the homeless cats in the world, I would. Still, little Buffy with her sharp teeth and wicked claws should be fine to defend herself.  I'll feed her and make sure she has water and shelter and she'll undoubtedly love her outdoor life, for however long it lasts.

Another Skittles Anniversary

It's been two years since Skittles joined my household and in that time she has managed to squirm her skittish way into my heart.  She's probably the smallest cat I've ever owned, as she is still able, at three years of age, to scoot beneath my bed with its mere three and a half inch gap between it and the floor. This is her safe spot, the place she will retreat to when feeling threatened.  When visitors are in the house, when I have unexpectedly managed to scoop her up and pet her into purring submission then finally released her from the hellish bliss of my affection, this is where she will retreat to.

In the beginning, she would retreat to this space and would not emerge until the visitors had been gone for hours or until I had left the house after subjecting her to the trauma of being loved.  Over the past year, the time she would spend beneath the bed has shortened, until lately, her retreats coincide with the hours a visitor is in my house.  Within moments of that visitor leaving, she will emerge, happy to be part of the household once more.  

Lately, she has not even retreated to her safe spot after being held.  Instead she has simply shaken off the manhandling and watched me warily from across the room, uncertain whether I will attempt to ruffle her dignity again.

I wonder where another year will take us.  This process has been so slow, earning her trust.  When I sometimes get impatient, I remind myself that one year ago, her claws would come out every time I touched her and two years ago, she hid from me pretty much 24/7.  I have this fantasy where one day, out of nowhere, Skittles will just jump up onto my lap and nudge my hand, ready for some attention.  It could happen.  So long as she's with me, I'll hold out hope, and even if it takes another ten years, that's all right because in the end, my sweet, skittish, little Skittles is definitely worth it.

On Skittles' Terms

Skittles has identified one specific spot in the house where she will allow petting to occur.  Any petting outside this zone is strictly prohibited (though I have been known upon occasion to break these rules).

Of course, the area she has chosen is perhaps the most annoying one in my entire household, as it happens to be any spot within arm’s length of the toilet IF I am seated upon it.  She’s figured out this is a place of vulnerability for me.  I will not move quickly from this spot, which gives her ample opportunity to flee if she perceives an attempt to pick her up is imminent.

She loves being pet and will purr ferociously when I stroke between her ears or beneath her chin, but in the perverse nature of all cats everywhere, she is unwilling to endure that which she loves unless it is on her own terms.  Thus, when I’m on the toilet, no matter where she was in the house when I headed for the bathroom, Skittles will always show up. 

She enjoys pacing in a large circle at my side, moving from almost close enough to snatch up to outside arm’s length.  She loves for me to catch her tail in a gentle hold at its base and then allow it to slide from my grasp as she circles away.  As the tip of her tail escapes my hand, she invariably circles back, tilting her chin toward me, inviting me to stroke her there as well. She’ll stand still for a few seconds, allowing me to pet and stroke her head and chin, then will slowly move beneath my hand until her tail is once more within my reach and the cycle begins again.

We’ll repeat this strange ritual multiple times until her need for contact has been appeased and she strolls leisurely away.

Over time, she has circled closer and closer and lingered longer and longer, for more extensive petting.  Over time, she has even occasionally ventured close enough for me to snatch her up and hold her in my arms.  In the early days, her claws would immediately extend and she would struggle to escape. I would use towels to capture her when I could, just to protect myself from though wayward claws. Though I should mention that her struggles were never aggressive in nature. She was struggling to get down, but not attacking me. Any scratches I received were purely inadvertent results of her desire to escape.  In later months, towels and blankets were no longer needed for protection.  Instead, she would simply freeze upon capture, claws fully sheathed. It would take long moments of constant stroking and attention for her to begin purring again.

Now, after many months of negotiating how and when she’ll be pet and held, I’m finally able to sit upon the closed toilet to engage in our petting ritual.  And though she still tries to flee when sensing imminent capture, Skittles now purrs the moment that capture becomes fact. 

And because I must work so very hard for her affection and her time, Skittles’ every purr, every head butt, every tail slide brightens and enriches my world. 

As we continue negotiating the parameters of our relationship, I slide ever deeper into love.

My First Anniversary with Skittles

It’s close to a year since Skittles joined my household and I no longer wonder whether I made the right choice in adopting her.  There are those who would say that I should have left her to live her life outside, a feral kitten I once failed to rescue.  That the most I could hope to accomplish for her was providing her with food, water and shelter. 

I couldn't do it though.  Perhaps it was the guilt, that I had rescued her mom and sister, adopting them into my home, but had failed to capture her.  That eight months had passed before I managed to trap her and by then she was fully wild, a teen mom with three kittens to protect.  That I had separated her from her babies, giving them over to The Animal Rescue Alliance.  That T.A.R.A. had found homes for the kittens while Skittles was deemed unadoptable due to her feral nature.  The sweet spot of rescue before eight weeks had long since passed. 

Despite all of this, Skittles was not unadoptable to me.  I had fallen in love with her long before I managed to trap her.

And every day, as she acclimates more to my household, as she finds her courage to allow me to pet her, as she purrs for me and scoots closer to me on the bed each night, I know that I have made the right decision.  Here in this household, she has shelter and food and water, but beyond those basics, she has the peace and safety of a home where she doesn't have to fight each day simply to survive.

Sure, she's still a ball of skittish behavior, but who knows what another year will do for her or for her relationships with me and the rest of the Culey Crew.  I can't wait to find out.

Socializing Skittles

Merry Christmas to the Cat Crew!

Skittles has made me very happy over the past month.  She continues to occasionally sleep with me and even allows me to pet her sometimes when I wake up.  I have to remain very still and slowly, s-l-o-w-l-y roll over, then carefully inch out my hand to gently pet her. She is always at the foot of the bed, which involves very slow contortions on my part to be able to reach her. If I sit up or lift my head up off the bed too far, it’s all over and she bolts.

Some days she bolts before I can make contact. Some days, I’m able to make contact and to pet her maybe two or three times… and then she bolts. And some days, I’m able to really spend time petting her.  Until she bolts of course. Always, always, invariably, I do something that causes her to flee. It’s just a question of how long I can hold out before my innate human nature gets the best of me.

Next week, I’ll be getting ready to go out of town for a week. I worry that my lack of presence here will set Skittles’ back in terms of her socialization. I hope not, but it’s hard to predict how animals will react. I can only hope that she will be so happy to see me return, she will actually become a lap kitty out of sheer joy.  It could happen.

Integrating Skittles

Skittles has been with us four months now.  I’m attempting to integrate the entire household, which means that Skittles, Pebbles, Mama Dru, Jake and Boo are all being put to the test. Can they possibly get along with each other?

Skittles is absolutely the most easygoing of them all when it comes to getting along with other cats.  She will play with Boo, play by herself, curl up with Mama or Pebbles and generally get along with any of them.  Mama is the exact opposite and as a result, often has to be locked up in the back bedroom because of aggressive behavior toward Boo or Jake.

Skittles still does not trust me and hisses when I move too fast or get too close or startle her. However, we have made some definite progress. Every once in a while, I’ll wake up in the morning and realize that Mama Dru, Pebbles and Skittles are all on the bed with me. Skittles will usually be at the foot of the bed and not touching me at all, but she’s in close proximity and it’s a huge step forward.  Of course, she immediately jumps down the second she realizes that I’ve awakened.

I still have not had the opportunity to pet her.  I miss it and often wish that I had kept her locked up for longer.  It’s hard to know the best choice in these situations. Would she have been better off if I’d followed the recommendation and simply left her released after trapping and spaying her?  I absolutely don’t think so, but some people might consider that I’ve been cruel to keep her inside when she spent her entire first year living outside and most of that year, on her own. Would we be further along if I’d kept her locked up in the back bedroom all of this time?  Forcing her to interact with me twice a day until all those breakthroughs I’m still waiting for happened?  Maybe. But she was alone most of the day and in a small bedroom besides. It seemed endlessly cruel.

I cannot help but second guess all of my decisions because that’s the kind of person I am. In the end, I console myself with the knowledge that, right or wrong, Skittles’ life has definitely been changed for the better - she’s safer at the very least - due in part to the choices that I have made.

Skittles' Newest Hiding Spot

Skittles has been with us for two and a half months now. She still does not trust me, though some progress has been made.  She’s been reunited with her mother and her sister, which is wonderful to see. I wasn't certain they would remember each other, but Pebbles and Skittles bonded almost immediately.  Sometimes I come home and they're curled up together, sleeping, as if they had never been apart.

It's rare that I get to witness these moments, though. Skittles has a truly heightened sense of awareness, even when sound asleep. The slightest change in the household will bring her to full alertness, and if she even gets the tiniest inkling that I am near, she will immediately bolt. As a result, I have very few pictures of Skittles, and those I do have, are not of the best quality, because she's usually on the move.

Skittles has found her safe spot. It's under my enormous bed.  She's found that she's small enough to squeeze under the platform base and has discovered the “cave” at the very back of the bed.  There's a large space behind the bed, beneath the headboard where she can hide and not be bothered. There's a window behind the bed and the sunlight from that window lights up the cave during the daytime and makes for a perfect kitty spot.  Of course, it’s also an anti-human spot. Accessing that particular spot involves removing the mattress and three giant boards from the platform bed, then lying flat on the ground in a tiny space to squeeze beneath the headboard to try to reach her.  Not that I’ve done any of this because that would just freak her out. I’m just saying… in a pinch, I’d be hard-pressed to get to her.

Ever since releasing her from the back bedroom, I’ve been wondering if I made a mistake.  At least while she was in the back bedroom, I was able to pet her on a daily basis. Now that she has a spot where she can truly become inaccessible to me, I have no hope of forcing any interactions with her, and have to instead rely upon her eventual desire to come to me. I wonder if this will ever happen.  I miss our bonding time and it breaks my heart to think that she probably doesn't feel the same at all.

Skittles

Skittles has been a part of my household for one month now.  She is mostly hanging out in my back bedroom.  I keep the lights low and try to spend time in the room every morning and every evening.

She's come out from beneath the dresser, which is a huge improvement. She now hides in the cat tree, which makes her accessible to me in a way she wasn't while under the dresser.

She gives me a  tiny hiss as I approach the tree.  I kneel down slowly and gently reach in and pet her. She hisses a couple times, but never scratches and never bites.  A few seconds of petting and she starts to purr. She loves the attention, but still does not quite trust that I will not hurt her. 

Of course not.

I'm the one who trapped her mother and sister nine months ago. I'm the one who failed to trap her, who left her outside to fend for herself. I'm the one who seven months later trapped her three kittens and then trapped her.  I'm the one who carted her kittens away and never brought them back. I'm the one who had her spayed.  I'm the one who's keeping her trapped in this darkened room and I'm the one who insists on petting her, every single morning and every single night. I'm also the one who brings her food and who makes her purr, but that doesn't change the fact that I'm the one who stole away her mother and her sister and later her three babies.  I'm the one who represents everything she's ever lost.

How much of this information is pure instinct and how much of it is true understanding? How much of this does she truly know or remember? Will she ever trust me enough to not hiss when I approach? Will she ever trust me enough to sit on my lap?  I am uncertain. Every day is one big question. How do I show her that she is safe?  How do I make her happy? How do I transform her life into one of safety and love?

Trap-Neuter-Release- ... Adopt?

So I've known it for a while now, but I'm really bad at following through on that whole Release part of Trap-Neuter-Release. Or maybe it's just that I'm bad at leaving them released. Either way, I'm just not cut out for the TNR life, I don't think.

I got home from my trip and was super thrilled to discover that Skittles had not disappeared. She was there almost immediately after I pulled into the driveway, greeting me with a meow and happily appearing anytime I came outside for any reason.

She would circle around me, closer and closer, never quite getting close enough to touch, but rubbing against the furniture, the feeders, the house, circling ever closer than away again, in a pattern that fairly begged me to pick her up and pet her. Of course I never did because any aggressive move toward her sent her bolting away. Instead I just talked to her and hung out on the back porch with her and one day when she followed me to the back door and meowed at me as I went inside, I held the door open for her and said to her, "Well, come on, then. Come on in."

And she followed me inside.

Of course the second the door closed behind her, she panicked and tried to climb it. I grabbed a hoodie from the hook behind the door and scooped her up with it. The minute my hands touched her through the hoodie, she froze. I carefully wrapped her up in the hoodie and cuddled her close to my body, which is when the most amazing thing happened.

She began to purr.

Now I know that some cats will purr not just when happy, but in times of stress or pain as well. But it didn't feel like a stressed out or pained purr. It felt like the real deal. Like something she'd wanted her entire life had just come to pass. Someone was holding her.

Maybe I'm delusional, but that purr sealed both our fates.

I ventured a hand beneath the hoodie and stroked her fur – so soft! – and cuddling her close, carried her to a back bedroom, where I set her up with a litter box, food and water. I've had her several days now and spend as much time in that room as I possibly can, getting her used to me. So far, I haven't tried to touch her again because she mostly hides from me and I want to build a level of trust with her. Trust that I won't overstep the boundaries she's established for our relationship. Most of the time she huddles under the dresser, watching me with a wary eye while listening to my voice. She doesn't usually venture out from under the dresser until I leave, but that's okay because I have all the time in the world to coax her into mine.

Trapping Skittles

I have no idea how I managed it, but this time I did it. I not only trapped Skittles, the very wily, skittish kitten I failed to trap a year ago, but I trapped her three babies as well.

T.A.R.A. agreed to take the kittens (thank goodness) if I managed to trap their mom and have her tested to ensure she's healthy (and by association, her kittens hopefully). I managed all of this, took Skittles to the Humane Society and had her spayed, tested and vaccinated. With paperwork in hand, I delivered the three kittens to T.A.R.A.

There was no question of T.A.R.A. taking Skittles. She'd been on her own for a year, a truly feral cat, and their advice was to release her. Given that I'm about to embark on a two week traveling venture away, I kept Skittles in my house long enough for her to recover from the spay surgery and then followed through and released her. I feel horribly guilty about it though. I've given her mom and her sister a home. They're now happy and healthy members of my household, yet I ejected Skittles back into the urban wilds of my back alley.

I worry I'll never see her again, that she'll disappear like she did a year ago and that will be the end of my journey with her. At least this time I know if she does show up again, she won't have kittens surrounding her, potentially shortening her lifespan. It's the only comfort I'm able to find.

Wishing her safety, comfort and a happy life of freedom.