Everybody Wants to be a Cat

Scat Cat is one of my all-time favorite cats to come through the shelter.  He came in as a stray, and was initially able to be handled enough at least to get  him in a cage.  However, he proved to be quite feral the next day.  And as a big, solid, muscular tom cat, nobody wanted to mess with him.  He reminded me of Scatman Crothers' character in "The Aristocats."  So I named him Scat Cat, and began quietly singing to him.  It calmed him down enough that I could at least clean his cage without him flipping out, so that became our daily routine.  "Everybody wants to be a cat, because a cat's the only cat who knows where it's at..."  Before too long, I could even pet him while singing to him.  He still wasn't manageable by anyone other than me, so we had him neutered at the weekend feral cat clinic, where he also got his ear tipped so he'd be identifiable as fixed if he went to a barn home.  When he came back, I gave him a stuffed animal to cuddle with, and continued singing and loving on him every day.  Before long, he'd let any of the other staff pick him up too, and he went up for general adoption.  His namesake tune was always his favorite.  You could try singing something else to him, but he'd only roll over and flex his paws for that one.  He got adopted, and is one that I always wish his adopters would have given us updates.  I did love that Scat Cat!

Edit several years later!  Scat's adopters came in a year after his adoption looking to get him a kitten.  I had my doubts, but figured they knew him best and set them up with a frisky yet cuddly little boy.  They let me know later that he immediately took that kitten on as his baby, and would get distressed if he couldn't find him!  Last I heard, Scat and his kitten were still doing great.

Lady MacDuff

I had just about given up hope of last fall's bottle baby, Lady MacDuff (aka Cleavage Kitten) ever getting adopted when she was chosen by a young man who had been doing some volunteer work for us (I'll call him Carpet Dude.) He took Duffy and another kitten, Auburn. I made him stand there and promise me that if he EVER had to rehome her, he'd bring her back to me. All was well. Then one day our vet clinic called and said there was a stray kitten at the clinic for us to pick up, was found at Goodwill. Lo and behold, it was Auburn. Complete with the same blue carrier Carpet Dude took her home in. A little research reveals Carpet Dude is now working at Goodwill. Checking on CraigsList and whatnot that day we find him advertising her because she keeps trying to get out of his apartment.

Ok, fine. I understand that she was not compatible with his living preferences. I personally would just keep the damn door shut rather than get rid of her, but whatever. But he'd had the cat less than a month, why not simply call us and arrange a return? Are we really that scary? Of course, he did not return my phone call, and I've been left wondering for another month if Cleavage Kitten is still allright. We never really figure out why he did what he did, but in our talks with him he knows what vet clinic we use. So really, he did exactly what needed to be done to ensure Auburn ended up back in our care. But so backhanded.

Wednesday, the boss is doing the daily check of online ads (we like to see what will be likely abandoned on our doorstep in coming days) and there's Cleavage Kitten. Carpet Dude is being recalled by the military and has mere days to set his affairs in order and rehome the now 9 month old kitten.

So this time I call from my cell phone, and amazingly he answers. He claims he called the shelter, but I wasn't there, and he didn't know what else to do besides post her online. But the caller ID went all the way through my last two days off, and didn't show his number. Besides, if he'd said who he'd adopted, the others would have gotten it straightened out or called me. So I have serious doubts about his story. Regardless, he agreed to let me go to his apartment and retrieve my kitten. Got her and her stuff, wished him luck, and left with no unpleasantness from either party. (Pretty proud of that!)

 

I get her back to the shelter, and she's just not the same cat.  She huddles in the corner of her cage, shaking and growling, won't eat.  So I've got another cat now, wasn't planning on another cat, was pretty pleased to be down to a reasonable number for the first time in years. She's not at all like she used to be, hardly comes out from under the bed, growled when I tried to snuggle her last night. I hope as she gets more comfortable, her personality comes back.

Edit: Duffy finally came around.  Took her a couple weeks, but she's perfectly well adjusted now.

GusGus

Gus, (AKA Big Head Todd) our hydrocephalic shelter cat, began having seizures this morning, and continued throughout the day. His life ended this evening in the room where he was born 3 years ago. Goodbye, Gus.

Oberon

And this is why I love my job.

Mammilian Biology

So we had two black kittens for adoption, one male, one female. Siblings. Someone wished to adopt the male, and did so. Took him home. Called later. "I got the wrong kitten, I wanted the male. I seem to have gotten the female instead." We check remaining kitten in cage, verify that the female is still here. Reassure her that she did indeed get the male. She is quite insistent that she has a female kitten. What makes her so sure that the kitten is female? "Well, this kitten has nipples!"

A Day in the Life...

... starts out with a guinea pig left in a small pet carrier by the front door when I arrive at work. Note on carrier says she knows she's supposed to give a cage and food and supplies when surrendering a small animal, but "she can't afford to do that" so she's dumping it there when nobody's around instead. So does that mean she didn't have a cage and food for the animal? Was he living in that tiny carrier with no food or water his whole life? That doesn't even make sense! Unless she sold the cage and stuff for money... hmm. Maybe I should check craigslist....

Next comes the near-daily "I know you're not open, but can I get some dog food" request. At least this guy was polite and apologetic, which is a nice contrast to the usual rude, demanding, and entitled folks that usually come around looking for handouts. So I went ahead and got it for him.

Stray dog we got it yesterday turns out to be an escape artist. Come back after lunch to discover her missing. She didn't get far, just down to Les Schwabs on the corner, where she was brought into the lobby to await collection. Even better, one of the employees is interested in adopting her if she goes unclaimed.

Lady that brought in two horribly sickly kittens yesterday returns with 4 more equally sickly kittens today.

Another lady is moving and can't take her Norwegian Forest cats with her. I show her the only cages we have available, which are pretty small. So they won't be able to be caged together. Or even see each other. Best we can do is side by side. "Oh, that's fine," she says, "they'll fit in there just fine!" Get the cats in.... holy dear god, you'd need a shoehorn to get one of those cats in a small cage, and he'd never fit in it with a litter box and bowls! The smaller one is a respectable 17.5 lbs, the large one is 24.5 lbs. So they're stuck in the intake room where we had a large double cage open until something bigger opens up front.
 

Next lady brings in a stray cat with a HUGE abscess behind it's left ear. In the lobby, I open the carrier, pet the cat, and attempt to remove the cat gently from the carrier. He's politely refusing to cooperate. "I'll need to take the carrier into the back to get him out," I say. "Oh just a minute, I need to say goodbye," she says, while shoving me away, which is the same thing she says every time she brings us a stray cat. So I let her reach into the carrier to pet him and whatever. To my surprise, she drags him kicking and screaming out of the carrier into her arms! He flails and begins to leap out of her arms, I attempt to catch and control him, fail miserably, and get scratched to hell and bitten to boot. Luckily, he chooses to run through the office to the intake room, where he can be confined. So he's under the cages. If he doesn't come out tomorrow, I'll have to set a trap. Meanwhile, lady is whining and blustering that if we'd just let her in the back, she could talk him out of there, she just KNOWS he'd come to her... then in the next breath tells us that she can only pet him while he's eating, and to get him in the carrier she put in food, then shut the door behind him. And begging us to let her in the back, and PLEASE have Katze come out and talk to her (because for some reason, in our long history of dealing with her, she's decided I'm the awesome one.) I hear another employee say "she's busy right now CLEANING HER WOUNDS! And no you can't go back, you've done quite enough already thank you very much!

 Then the guy who we had courtesy listed his dogs a while back, they all found homes. Well, today he comes back in, saying that he got two of the three returned, because these two dogs, who had lived together all their lives (they're littermates) stopped eating when sent to separate homes. So after two weeks, now he has them back, and can't have them where he lives now, and has to be rid of them TODAY so we have to take them. "I can put you back on the wait list, but we're bursting at the seams right now, I simply don't have a kennel to put them in." "Well I guess I'll just have to take them out and SHOOT them then! <dramatic pause with hand on doorknob...>" "Gee that's a shame, I'm sorry to hear that. <Turn and head back to the laundry room>" "Well what am I supposed to DOOOOOO" he fairly wails. I mention waitlist. Again. Or, since the two dogs seem prepared to die rather than be separated, and it's pretty much an impossibility to adopt out two large dogs together, and we don't have room at the shelter for them right now anyway, perhaps he may be forced to consider euthanasia. "Well that's a damn waste, they're good dogs!" he says. (umm, but shooting's not?)

And that all interspersed with the usual strays in, strays out, people in, people out, bottle babies, etc. Ugg. Is it the weekend yet?

Definition of "Quarantine"

So today, I'm doing ringworm baths, moving recently infected cats out of the momma room and into the sick room, passing through the dog kennels between them. On my way through, I turn a corner just in time to see some blonde chick ducking under the rope with the huge white sign dangling from it that says "QUARANTINE: DO NOT APPROACH." Mind you, she's ducking under on her way BACK into the public dog kennels.

I stop dead. "You can't be back there!"
Her: oh really?
Me: Yeah, that's why it's blocked with a rope and sign.
Her. Oh, I didn't realize that meant I couldn't go look.
Me: Well, it sure doesn't mean "Duck the rope and come on in!" That German Shepherd back there could take your head off, but that's not the reason for the sign. Theres also a litter of sick puppies back there. We don't know what they have, or if it's contagious. So if you stepped in their germs, then walk all over the shelter, you are endangering every animal in here. Which is why that tray of bleach solution and irrigation boots are right there next to that rope.  So back right the heck up and step in that tray.  No, I don't care if it ruins your shoes.

Also today. Group of frat boys outside in our dog play area in their underwear and Santa hats taking pictures with the dogs. It was 20 degrees.

Woman on phone wanting to surrender her cat who hates other cats so bad that merely seeing another cat sends him into rages where he bites people. Didn't really think through the fact that he'd be in a cage surrounded by other cats, and being handled by the general public in that environment.

Idiotic people without the IQ required to operate doors. I think I walked past the kennel door ONCE where I didn't have to shut it. At one point, somebody let a dog out of his kennel, who then ran through the open door into the cat area, and started having a hay day. Other employee rounds up dog, goes back into kennels, yells "did somebody lose a DOG???" Person responsible didn't seem to recognize the fact that if you let a dog out of it's kennel, you should probably make an effort to chase it down. Or at least alert a staff member. Since that particular Lab/Akita mix isn't good with cats. Sorta wants to eat them, even.

Never have I been so happy to be stuck all afternoon in the sweltering laundry room doing lime-sulfur dips.

On the positive side, the American Eskimo who came in on deaths door is a whole different dog today. He grinned at me, walked outside on his own four legs, and ate treats and canned food off the fork. Amazing what 2 days worth of antibiotics and food will do for a sick dog. And shaving off all the feces matted fur around the back end too. Tuesday the vet was "cautiously optimistic" that he would survive.

Have I mentioned I hate people sometimes?

Edit: Sadly, the American Eskimo dog didn't survive after all.