Releasing Romper and Altering Cats, the Aftermath

Our vets, George and Christina, thought Romper was a very sweet natured kitty. We think so, too. :) We released him Thursday night at the upper level of the park, near where we trapped him, by the swingsets.  

Romper ready for his release

Opening the carrier door

 
 Waiting for Romper to come out, which he wasn't inclined to do

Like Bugsy and Mustafa, we had to coax him to come out. 

Petey and I tried a little sweet talk to get Romper out

Unfortunately he didn't stick around for his special meal. He took off in a diagonal path down the bank down toward the sea, in the direction of where he hangs out. 

Finally he comes out, apparently having a departure route already in mind

The other cats react after Romper was released, "Who was that masked man?"
From left: Gunther(exiting photo), Blabby, Petey, Greyboy, and Bugsy

I hope he is OK and we didn't damage his wonderful personality by instilling too much fear in him.

Because my experience is we aren't just altering cats physically, we are altering their sense of themselves and their place in the group: we are altering their lives  That is one reason I feel responsible for them after we neuter them.  But it goes without say that we are responsible for the welfare of God's creation anyway, no matter what.  That is part of the gift we were given to name everything.  When you name something, you are responsible for it, because you are saying in a sense that that being belongs to you.  Who names a child?  Its parents.

Gunther, for instance, has changed drastically since we altered him.  His entire personality has changed.  Once he outgrew his kittendom he became very sure of himself, even cocky. 

Gunther growing up, before we altered him. He was pretty comfortable with himself.

Now he is very unsure of himself.  I watched on mortified Wednesday night as Moonpie snuck up on Gunther from behind him and viciously attacked him.  Poor Gunther didn't even see it coming!  And he screamed pitifully.  I ran to break it up.  But I didn't see Gunther for 24 hours after that.  Since his neutering, maybe as a result of his stress,  his ringworm has gotten worse.  A similar thing happened earlier when the latest unknown Tomcat aggresively tackled and attacked Greyboy sending his bone chilling screams into the night.  (We altered Greyboy last winter.)

Sweet Greyboy, lately he has been wandering from the group and it is not doing him any favors

I always know when the one of the offensive Tomcats is there, even if I do not see them, just by the other cats' reactions. They get terribly focused and their eyes get like saucers. A hush comes over the whole group and they freeze. That is when I know to start looking around for the cause of their fear.

Friday when Moonpie showed up at the end of the cats' meal, late as he sometimes is (because he is on patrol all day long it seems, walking from the apartments, to the park, up to the parking lot and back again), I considered refusing to feed him because of all the trouble he causes.  But then I am afraid the next day I will see him dead in the road and think how sorry I will feel, because our chances with Moonpie will be up.  So I chose to lead him away from the group and feed him close to the sea.  Bugsy and Petey followed, but Gunther watched from afar crouched in terror on the table.  As soon as it was established that Moonpie was occupied with eating, Gunther seized the opportunity to take off, and did a swift crawl/run up the steps to the upper park level.

I fed Moonpie well away from the table

Gunther watched crouched on the table for a while, then split while the going was good

It's odd, altering seems to have brought out the timidity in Gunther, while in Bugsy, it brought out a new boldness.  I was so amazed to watch Bugsy walk right up to Moonpie's plate and dare to eat with him, and even more amazed to find Moonpie accomodate him.

Surprisingly, Moonpie accomodates Bugsy's usurption of his plate of food

Petey warily looks on; she doesn't trust Moobnpie at all, but is old enough to hold her own with him

It is as if a cat's fear acts like a cue to a potentially aggressive cat, releasing that cat's aggression.  I guess it is an ugly fact of life that stronger creatures behave this way toward weaker creatures, because we see it in the human arena, too.

Only time will tell how Romper will react now that he has been altered and released.  Please join me in wishing for the best for him, for a long, safe, peaceful life, and pray that some kind soul will step forward to adopt him.

Trapping Romper

Trapping Romper was one of the guiltiest experiences we have ever had.  Romper is joy, optimism,  and gentleness personified.  He means no one any harm and this seems to translate to the other cats at the park, because no one bothers to bother with him.  While the other cats are worrying or avoiding trouble with the more aggressive cats, Romper just zooms by.  His gift seems to be to inspire other cats to play and forget their differences.

The trap is ready for Romper

Romper is the brother of Strike and Bugsy Blackchin.  We have often wondered who their mother was and we are starting to lean toward Petey, now spayed, even though the litter settled at the top of the park, a bit away from where she spends most of her time.  They all used to come to the grotto as kittens last winter, along with Petey, and along with Baby and her kittens, and Cindy and her kittens.  Because Baby and Petey are both black and white, it was hard to tell the differences between all the black and white kittens accompanying them and to discern who belonged to whom.  If you are a birdwatcher, you'll understand; it's a little like identifying sparrows.

Petey

Romper

 You have heard of the Hapsburg chin?

The requisite Blackchin

Romper thought the trap was for play and immediately began to circle around it and try to play with it.  He eventually darted in, ate the food and romped out.  It was a game!  We put more food in but according to Romper it was now time to move on to another game, because he had been there and done that. 

Romper just went in the trap and casually ate the food

 Then he romped back out

Time for more play says Romper, while Blabby checks out the mackerel

I suggested to Nik that maybe we should put a toy in there. 

But he eventually did go back in, and he is the only cat ever who has continued to eat the food once he was trapped.  A first!  It was a while before Romper realized it wasn't a game and then he only looked hurt and dejected, and uttered the most pitiful little mew you ever heard.  It was like taking candy from a baby, and it felt cruel. 

Nik marvels at the only cat ever to continue eating after he is trapped

But after that it was a pitiful, "Mew"

I told Nik there was no reason to keep Romper in the trap all night long.  If we had had an extra bedroom that wasn't filled with cats, we could have released him in there and popped him in the carrier in the morning.  But we didn't.  So I insisted we put him in a larger carrier and make him comfortable, which with a couple of shakes we did.

So Romper overnighted in the shed, which at least kept him out of the rain for the night, and Nik took him this morning to Nicosia for our vets George and Christina to neuter.

The multi-purpose shed, filled with slipcovers and a cat

Romper was off to meet George and Christina this morning, you know, to spread his joy

He really is an adorable cat.  If you would like to adopt him please see our contact page.  It would be a shame for this bundle of good, positive energy to perish out at the park unprotected.  He is not feral, only shy and inexperienced with people; last night when he climbed his fortieth tree, I had no trouble reaching out to stroke him heartily.  If we weren't overcrowded here, we would bring him home in a minute and administer him like a drug.

The best to you Romper.  Godspeed.

Cobbles in Trouble

I haven't seen Cobbles in at least a week.  She came by this morning and I was distressed to see she is in serious trouble:

Cobbles has and eye infection - she could lose her eye like Jazzy if we can't get her help

I tried unsuccesfully to trap her.  She managed to go in the trap, eat the food, and get out without getting caught, which, doggonit, sometimes happens.

Cobbles snatched the food twice without releasing the trap door

But if we can't get her she could lose her eye like Jazzy, who we were never able to catch with the borrowed trap we were using at the time.

Jazzy lost one eye to an infection because we couldn't catch him to help him

Cobbles proved too clever for me - Sylvia, in foreground, looks on

It was just as I figured out to solve the problem, that two Cypriot workmen showed up to work on the house next door, and Cobbles, who is feral and nervous, ran off.  Plus Nik and I have to be careful, because traps like these which come from abroad are very valuable in Cyprus, particularly for hunters who don't want to play fair, which this country has no shortage of. 

We have seen so many hunters just stand below trees shooting sparrows like it is a pin ball game. I had to chase one out of our front yard once!! I asked him incredulously, "Bre, koumbare, what the hell do you think are you doing?!" And he smiled sheepishly, casually turned around, and walked off down the middle of the residential road we then lived on carrying his rifle on his shoulder. (!!??!!)  Another time I scoldingly approached a man at the park shooting sparrows in the trees with an airgun.

And these two men are definitely of that hunting generation.  You can spot them because they walk around everywhere, even go to work in, their camouflage hunting fatigues.  And they have small boxes on the back of their trucks where they stuff their huntings dogs  no matter how hot it is outside.

Then at the end of the season, a lot of these same men let their hunting dogs free to wander, abandon them to fend for themsleves, and the dogs either starve to death, or get hit by a car. 

Is it ignorance or cruelty?  I think it is ignorance.  There are plenty of Cypriots here who adore their animals.  One of our neighbors is too ill and overweight to walk his dog, so his wife does it and he takes the dog for a daily drive. 

 Cobbles, too lucky for her own good

Cobbles was very lucky and clever this morning, but I would think she was a lot more lucky and clever had she let me catch her.

Please send her and me your prayers.  I'll be looking out for her all day.

When It Rains, It Pours - Baby's Emergency

I almost called this post, "When Feral Cats Ail, and Emergency Vets Fail."

I woke up this morning to find Nik dragging all the slipcovers, blankets and laundry that was outside into the shed.  But I should have known yesterday when I washed the sofa slipcovers that it would rain.  It is Murphy's law.

The shed piled high inside with slipcovers

We were both running late, so I quickly loaded up the bag for the park feeding.  I had the hunch to clean the litter boxes before I left. Thank goodness! Because it turned into a very long and nerve-wracking morning.

It was still raining and consequently very muddy when I got to the park.  I was just filling the plates at the upper level, when I heard some insistent mewing. I hadn't seen Bugsy yet, so when I caught a glimpse of black and white fur, I assumed it was him.  But then I noticed how drenched he was, oh dear, so I took a closer look and was shocked to find it was Baby.

Baby!?  Baby is never at the top of the park! Once last winter she followed me up the stairs.  That was when she was in trouble and couldn't eat, so I thought, "Wow, she must be really hungry!"  I hadn't seen her yesterday so, maybe, yes, that was it, but what I found when I tried to feed her was a similar problem to this past winter: she couldn't eat!  

I remembered I had a trap in the back of the car.  We didn't have a trap last time we tried to catch Baby, so I wasn't sure she would go for it.  But I hustled back up to the car to get it, and found Strike waiting for me.  I hurried to put something delicious down for Strike, when I turned around and found Baby had followed me!  Unheard of!!  So she was pretty desperate.  Well, so was I!  I put some of Strike's gourmet in the trap and sure enough Baby went in.  She was attracted to food, she just couldn't eat it, (Earlier she kept trying different bowls to see if that would make a difference for her.)

The trap didn't spring, so I tip-toed over and closed the door myself.  Then she went crazy like they do when they are caught.  I popped her in the back of the car:

I quickly finished feeding Strike, spending less time with her than I would have liked:

And I rushed home to call Nik to find an emergency vet. 

One concern was time: getting Baby back to her kittens as quickly as possible.  We don't have any vets close by, just the farm vet I told you about here, but I thought we would give him a second chance since the long drive to Nicosia, Larnaca, or Limassol seemed not in the best interests of Baby or her kittens.  He said he could meet me at his office at 9 AM.  Well that was hours away!  Too long! 

So we called a vet we once went to in Larnaca for an emergency when Greyboy got cat flu last winter.  He said he would meet us at his office between 7-7:30 AM.  I made the drive.  He didn't show at all.  Instead he sent his veterinary assistant.  She asked me the problem, and then she said she had heard it was a poisoning.  "No!" I said, "Not poisoning!  It's her mouth, her teeth perhaps.  Where is the doctor?"  She said I would have to leave Baby there until the vet came in at 10 AM.  I went crazy.  I gave her a piece of my mind to give to the doctor and went out to find another emergency vet.  I then called my husband for help.

Nik was a real hero and found  Dr George Artemiou just ten minutes away.  The young doctor met me and Baby at his office about a half hour later.  Good man. 

Our new emergency vet, Dr. George Artmiou - Thank you, Dr. George!

 Baby in the trap while we wait for the doctor to arrive

He had to give Baby a sedative because Baby is 100% feral, and there is no other way he could have looked into her mouth:

 Baby under sedation

He checked her teeth and found they were OK, but there was a sharp bird part lodged in her teeth which he pulled out:

 Let's hope that was it

He gave Baby a good exam and ruled out other problems, then woke her up.   He instructed me to wait until she was less drowsy before I released her, a couple of hours or so.  So I made the long journey home to find poor Mandy and Morris trying to keep out of the rain on the doorstep.  (I wish they would use the shed, but I guess they are afraid of feeling cornered should other unfriendly cats come in.)

Morris and Mandy trying to keep dry

 Morris ran over and hopped in the car and gave me a super close up:

 I almost got to see if his teeth were OK

He crawled nonchalantly in back to check out the stranger, and then parked himself in the passenger seat.  My car is kind of Morris' house, so I am sure he missed it in the rain.

 

 Wonderful Morris

I left Baby in the back of the car while I went in to get Muji for his long overdue morning ablutions.

 Muji was waiting for his morning walk - "Human Mom, why are thee so late?"

We didn't go far because Muji wasn't too happy about the wet streets. 

After we got back I took Baby to the park to release her.  She was still a little unsteady, so I should have waited longer.  After orienting herself, she nixed my meal offering, and headed straight back to her territory:

 Baby heads off in the rain without eating

Let's hope she went to eat something.  I am going to go back down there in a while to check on her and Strike.

When I got back in the car.  It was still raining, my boots were caked with mud, and my camera and I were drenched.

We have been feeding Baby for over a year now.  We were so worried about her this past winter when days and days went by where she couldn't eat.  We didn't have traps at the time and we tried many different ways to catch her, unsuccessfully,  including a blanket.

She is one of the oldest cats we feed, the doctor estimated between 2-3 years old, which is what we guessed. 

We have one of her babies living with us, Bashful, a name which he outgrew, so we now call him Bashers.  It fits him perfectly as he loves to ram us lovingly with his head. We brought him home this past winter when he was very sick with gastroenteritis.  Thankfully he was not feral, just very shy.

Baby's baby, "Bashers"

He has his mom's feet

I hope Baby is OK.  And I hope her kittens are well, too.  Baby has had a hard life. I wish there was something more we could do to help her. Please keep her and her kittens in your thoughts, and pray for their safety and well being.  Baby is such a sensitive cat, and she was very sickly when we first started feeding her.  She has improved so much, let's hope this is just a small setback.

When the sun comes out again, things will look better for all of us, I am sure. The rain just makes everything harder.

Releasing Strike and a Peaceful Morning at the Park...Finally :)

Strike went through her surgery just fine, thank God, and we released her last night at the park, softly mewing, close to where we usually see her.  We first put a little mackerel in the carrier with her to make sure she ate a little something in case she was too distracted when we let her out.  She was happy to have a few bites (and drink all the juice, of course), and then she was ready:

So we opened the carrier door and let her out:

Nice and easy, Strike came out

She didn't run off, she stopped for a scratch and some reassurance:

It took her a while to orient herself

And then she ate nearly all her mackerel :)

We were happy to see her appetite so good

Then just as we were getting ready to leave, we heard the dreaded cat screams coming from inside the park, and sure enough when we ran up there we found a Tomcat we had never seen before attacking Bugsy, we think, in the hedges.  I ran toward the commotion and all I could see was the Tomcat.  He couldn't have cared less that I was thundering down the path toward him.  He waited until I was just two feet away from him to haul it and even then he just went on to the other side of the hedge.  I couldn't believe it! 

He was having another go from the other side!  He showed no signs of stopping, but it did give Bugsy a chance to run out from the hedge and head toward the park entrance, near where Nik, Strike, and I had been.  About this time Petey showed up, likely because of all the noise:

Bugsy in the hedge; Petey in front

We offered them the rest of Strike's mackerel

Once everyone had calmed down, it was time to leave, and it broke my heart to leave Strike sitting there by herself.

Strike alone in the night after her surgery

But I was happy to see her this morning and give her a sachet of kitten food and a little gourmet, which her brother Romper was happy to share:

Strike on left, her brother Romper on right, sharing gourmet

I got some video of Romper this morning.  It's the first time he's stood still long enough!  And I did finally establish he is a boy - I think. 

Anyway, thanks to our vets, George and Christina, and we wish the best for Strike.  Our prayers go out for her safety, well being, and happiness, and to the end that one of our readers will be inspired to offer this sweet, humble cat a safe and loving home.