Shelby, the cat dog, aka "Bubba". She is 13 now, with bad hips, and she will be terribly missed, not only by me and the friends she's made along the way, but also by her "cat family".
Shelby can usually be found outside with no less than three cats following her around. They believe her to be their "protector" and she has, and considers it her job, to break up cat fights. No one gets hurt, but having her coming at you is enough to break up the fight. For this she usually gets a head butt from her rescued kitty.
It is in this particular post that I will introduce my immediate "family" cat family. I also have a foster situation, a sad situation averted due to a mamma cat that did read the invisible tattoo on my forehead that reads "all strays welcome". I swear the strays have me figured out, at least those not terrified of human interaction.
My immediate family consists of LC, short for Little Cat, a very large Maine Coon female who came to me quietly in an old backyard. She was about 6-7 mos. old at the time and sat for 3 days in the middle of my backyard staring at my apartment, watching me. Knowing what I know now after nearly 12 years with her, I'm certain she was sizing me up. She's the smart and thoughtful one - she will always look before she leaps. A large 13lb or so ball of fur. For those that don't know - Maine Coon cats actualy have a triple coat and huge, very hair feet. She managed to have one litter before I could get her fixed, and from that litter came Faith.
Faith is the second to the oldest of my cats and a well built, stocky brown tabby. She is a lover, a near constant singer, and always ready with a chatty "story" to tell you. She is also one of the most passive of all my cats. Of LC's litter, I kept Faith and Hope, though Hope is no longer with us. Faith also managed to have a couple litters before I could afford to get her fixed, over a decade ago. From her came a black kitten adopted by a friend and named Charity. From Charity came my next eldest cat, and probably one of the most pleasant male cats I've known - Dalton. (I'm embarrassed to say that I don't have any pictures of Faith in my library - Mom must have the pics I'm thinking of - have to get that fixed!)
Dalton is a Lynx Point - part tabby and part siamese with the most beautiful blue eyes. He's large too, about 10 lbs or so, but all in proportion. He rubs nearly everything he comes in contact with and has since he was a baby. That fact and the fact that when he was younger, he would be fearful of you a little, until you spoke. This had made me believe that the blue eyes don't necessarily see as well as other cats, at least in Dalton. He is sweet, calm and usually the first to warm up to, or at least tolerate, any new cats in the house. Dalton has been with me now about 6 years.
LC and Dalton lounging on the front sidewalk.
Next came Tucker, a tuxedo male adopted at Christmas time in 2006. He has turned out to be one of my most sensitive cats. The "new" family of kittens we're fostering now has sent him outside, especially after fostering a local male cat, Charlie, who got so territorial with me that he didn't want anyone else in the house and would chase them, inside, outside and plant himself at the window opening so they wouldn't even think about coming inside. Tucker is also my family "ham". He can be insistantly loving and provides some of the most heart warming cat antics, especially with such a face that you can't help but fall in love with.
Tucker checking out Sugar on one of her first outings.
A year ago last summer, while still living in Montana, I got involved with a local TNP program while trying to capture a feral tom cat that was feeding at my neighbor's house. Tom as we both called him, was sick and injured from all the tom fighting. We wanted to catch him and get him to a vet so we called the TNP group. she came out and tried, though we never did catch him, eventually he warmed up to the neighbor and started coming inside the house to be warm, but wouldn't let anyone but her get within 10 feet. I did use the plans for a feral cat house from alleycats.org and built him a very nice and cozy home that was placed on the neighbor's back porch. I do not know if she was ever able to get him to a vet, but I do know that it was one of her priorities.
However, in this process, the gal we worked with had just brought in a litter of 4 kittens that had been abandoned by their mother and everyone else, from under a mobile home. I agreed to foster two of them, a black and white female, eventually named Sugar and a very tiny and starving black male who, with a purr you can hear across the room, has since earned the name Boomer. Sugar was the sweetest and gentlest little loving girl you could ever hope for. I was always amazed at her level of acceptance, of nearly everything, and her willingness and desire to be loved and cuddled anytime, anywhere.
Sugar and Boomer a couple weeks after coming to live with us.
Boomer this last summer. I sent this picture out to friends and told them I had a new "Boom box".
Sugar left us this last summer, went out and never came home. I prefer to believe that someone else took her in. Any thoughts other than that and my heart breaks. Boomer, who is now a very large, classicly built, glossy black (neutered) male, is still here with us. He loves to have his belly rubbed and position himself just right in bed at night so that you, and he, can fall asleep rubbing his belly while he sings to you.
I credit both Sugar and Boomer for bringing Mitsi to us. A couple weeks after Sugar and Boomer came to my house, I heard a pitiful cry coming from under our front porch. Some quiet time on the steps with the other cats and kittens out playing in the front yard, brought out an extremely tiny, and nearly starved to death little calico, polydactyl female kitten. Her extra toes made her front feet look huge compared to the tiny little body that they carried and wild as the west she was. I started putting food out for her on the front porch, and setting times to put out canned food for her so we could get on a schedule. After a couple weeks of this, she would remain on the porch and eat with me sitting nearby. If not for the timing of me going out the back door and scaring her up under the cover on the barbeque, I'm not certain she would not still be wild. I will never forget the terror of knowing that my window of opportunity was there, then, and would be very small to capture and try and tame this little girl. Mostly, it was knowing that I was about to stick my bare hand up under a piece of canvas and try and latch onto a very wild, very very scared, little girl. Fortunately, I came out if with only a couple nicely bleeding scratches and one canine tooth bite through my little finger. I wrapped her close to me and made for the back door, getting there just as she exploded - tossed her inside and closed the door.
Mitsi after about a month inside the house.
It took me nearly 6 weeks to get this little girl to trust me. And even now, I am the only one she trusts. My mother, if she's around enough, is "ok" but can still send Mitsi away just by being here. She is a street savvy, self protecting, loving little girl. She is the one who makes my heart want to burst when she shows me just how much she trusts and loves me.
Mitsi, about a year later - happy, healthy and secure.
It's a little disconcerting to realize that the pictures I thought I had, are still with my mom. Pictures of Faith, and my old Blue Russian "Mamma". A loving but cantankerous little cat who believed her and I to be joined at the hip. She left us after nearly 14 yrs when her kidneys gave out. Preceded by her son, Jackson, who topped out at nearly 24lbs in his prime. 10 good loving years he gave us too, before his kidneys got tired too... but that's for another post.
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