It's long but I want you all to get to know my fur kids. And people have asked how old they are and for pix and because I'm technologically challenged, I did everything bass ackwards. So here goes:
Puddy is 13 and she looks remarkable for all she's been through and she only weighs 5 lbs. Coco Puff is 2, Specs is approx. 6 (I don't know for sure; the vet guessed that he was around 2 when he came to me), Boo is 15, Creamsicle is 5, Yodie Yodie is 3 and Pigeon is 17. My Peeka, Boo's sister, was 14 when she died. So their ages are all over the board.
I'm proud of my fur posse. They had tough lives before we found each other. Some kids tried to skin Peeka alive and nearly succeeded, stripping all the fur off her tail and breaking it. (It had to be amputated.) She was missing for 4 days in subzero temperatures and tons of snow before she showed up on my doorstep. She belonged to my neighbor who refused to take her to the vet because, in her words, "Hey, she's an outdoor cat. Things happen." Boo escaped, apparently. I asked her if I could have Peeka and she said "If you take her brother, too. You may as well; they're always at your house anyhow." She had them named backwards, as far as I was concerned. Boo is pure black and she named him Peeka. Peeka was a tuxedo and she loved to peek around corners and she named her Boo. So I reversed their names and they fit perfectly.
Puddy was born w/birth defects: a left hind leg that stuck out like a wing. Her family left her outside to fend for herself, right in the way of traffic! They eventually took her to their vet who put a metal splint on her leg to try to straighten it out and all that did was rub a sore clear down to the bone. So they were going to put her to sleep when I heard about her, so I took her to my vet and he removed the splint and said "She's going to walk w/a limp. Can you live w/that?" I said "Hey, if she can live w/it, I can live w/it." Plus she can't raise her tail because it has spiny growths in it. All this at only 5 weeks old! And you all know the CRF problems that she's had and now she's operating on one kidney but she's got the strength of a titan! She's my special girl and my bunkmate. I just adore her spunk.
Pigeon was dumped in my yard (a driveby) when she was in labor! Her kittens were premature and 2 were stillborn, the other she kept trying to smother, I guess because she knew it wouldn't make it anyhow. They were so premature, you could see all of their insides. My vet had me make a formula and feed the kitten w/a baby doll bottle but the little sweetie died anyhow. I later found out that Pidge was a farm cat who used to get kicked in the head by the farmer who wore big boots. (I often wondered why she would never let any of us stroke her head. She does now but it took a lot of years.) After she gave birth, I somehow instinctively knew to just hold her while I sat out in the sun. She'd turn her face upwards like a sun worshipper, sweet thing, as though this was the first pleasure she ever had. And she had every worm, tic, flea, bug, mite, you name it, everything except the fatal illnesses, thank goodness. She's my sweetest tempered of all the cats and she's the first one I introduced Puddy to. Puddy was her usual rambunctious self and Pidge just put her huge paw on Puddy's head and held it to the floor until she calmed down, as if to say "Chill, youngun." It was hilarious to watch!
Yodie Yodie, as some of you may remember, came to me w/an ear polyp the size of a silver dollar that grew down into her throat. It nearly strangled her and she was so thin that you could see all her bones, even in her face. Dr. Lee saved the day once again and lasered the polyp and out of pure instinct gave it a little tug, which took it out at the root. He said he latered learned that's what they're teaching them to do now, so that the polyp doesn't grow back. I named her Yoda because her ears laid flat like Yoda in Star Wars. Of course, at that time, I didn't realize how bad the polyp was. But she couldn't meow and my son said that I should've named her Darth because of the way she breathed. Well, now I call her Yodie the Yowler because she meows as she walks, even as she goes down steps. I think she loves the sound of her voice and she's so happy to be able to meow, it's like singing to her. And her pleasure is watching TV, esp. Animal Planet and basketball games. She'll watch til a commercial comes on, runs and gets a snack or uses the litterbox, then resumes watching the show.
Creamsicle was only 5 weeks old when she came to me, too, sliding across my porch like Kramer, which I did call her for a while. But one day when I came home from work, she was nowhere to be found. I looked in one of the boxes and she was sound asleep but so still. I shook her and she didn't move. I shook her again and it startled her, she got up, and just fell over, like a cartoon. When I stood her up, she wobbled like she was drunk and when she finally could walk, it was only in circles and her head swung violently from side to side like a pendulum. Long story short, she's a vestibular hypoplasia kitty and she's totally deaf. But w/good vet care and a lot of love, she's my happiest cat. She walks like a salamander now, her head only cocks to the side a little and her deafness in no way stops her, good grief! She races through this house like she's on a mission. No ramps for this gal! She's the only one I haven't had altered due to her condition and deafness but I talked to Dr. Lee about it a few days ago and he assured me that she'll be fine. So I'll schedule that as soon as I get Boo's teeth taken care of.
Coco Puff is my bad boy, into everything, wrestles w/everyone, including me. When he was born, everyone wanted him, being a beautiful blue eyed Siamese. But something told me not to adopt him out. I did NOT want another cat; I had my hands full as it was, plus I was in process of moving house. But I just felt I needed to keep him. Shortly after I moved into my new house, I learned why. He had a seizure and if that had happened to new owners, they may not have known what to do. Maybe I'm selling them short; I'm certainly not the only person w/special needs cats, as so many of you on PT can attest to. But I know how people can be: they want a cute little kitten but if something goes wrong, the cat gets tossed outside. Or it grows up and they don't want a full grown cat. But I felt my instincts were telling me what to do and it turns out he's a cerebellar hypoplasia kitty, not a severe case, though. You'd never know it until you pick him up, then he squirms and is off balance. But he's just like Creamsicle in the happiness dept. Nothing keeps him down.
Specs came to me in the dead of winter, cold as can be, snow everywhere. I set him up in one of the outdoor shelters and he stayed there until summer, when I KNOW he heard me say "The only way a cat gets indoors is if he's terribly sick or injured." Little brat walked w/me downhill while I was taking the trash can to the curb, ran out in front of a car and got hit! I heard the crunch and screamed and he ran back right past me up the hill and into the field next to my house. I thought he went off to die. It was pitch black out and I ran indoors to get my flashlight and called his name repeatedly and heard him meow and the meow was getting closer and closer. He came to me, I checked him over and he seemed ok except for his paw, which wasn't even bleeding but his toe looked injured. So I took him to the vet and they were concerned that he might have to have his toe amputated. Well, he didn't. But I swear he smiled, as if to say "I qualify now, right?" And he's been indoors ever since.
As I said, Boo is the only one who escaped any kind of physical harm or illness, which is why I wanted to make sure he was ok last week when his thinness was starting to give me concerns. But he checked out ok, is going in for dental work, and hopefully, things will be calm in this household for a while. He's such a strong, handsome boy and people say he's more like a dog in that he comes when called (well, all my cats do but no one knows that) and he talks back and forth with you, as though he's having a real conversation. And, of course, he is . Why can't the average person understand that?
I'm sorry to make this such a long post but I just felt I needed you all to really know my Fur Posse. They're each so special and I love them so much. They really are my family.
Blessings,
Mary
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