Author: Geri P.

Daily News may be a newspaper but it also was the name of a handsome, very vocal cat on the grounds of my job. After having fed and catered to various cats over the years, on these grounds, I only had 1 cat left and he was getting very old for a feral, outside cat but he kept on trucking. Suddenly, I was out of work for a few months due to an accident and apparently, while I was out, a new cat appeared and decided to have his meals catered along with the older cat, Mr. Zimmerman, by the person temporarily running my “restaurant” until I could return to work. Upon my return to work, I met the newcomer and, since he seemed very comfortable at “my” territory, I realized he was there to stay and needed a name. I was never “into” the regular sort of “Fido, Snowball, Max” kind of name, so I had to think a little – what, I asked myself, was black and white like this new cat? aHA, the Daily News! So it came to be – not only was he named for a newspaper, but he was extremely loud and had quite a lot to say, guess he thought it really WAS his job to deliver the news all the time!! Soon, he was – to his chagrin – trapped and neutered but, once back at his stomping grounds, he seemed to recover well from that humiliating trip to the vet! Although he wouldn’t tolerate anyone coming too close to him, he was starting to “loosen up” a bit, after many months, and I was able to sneak in a few pats on his back as he started to eat. Soon after, however, he did a complete change and once again, would not let anyone get near him all. He remained this way and his wishes to be “aloof” were respected. He got along “ok” with Mr. Harold Zimmerman, but this old fellow, upon turning 18 years old, had to be taken, sorrowfully, to the Rainbow Bridge, and Daily was on his own, eating at his own “restaurant” every day. At times, he would disappear for several weeks, although his food was always eaten. He continued to literally yell at me when I drove up to park where he would often be waiting, but I never did understand exactly what he was saying! He sure was, though, very expressive! The years passed and things seemed “status quo” when rather abruptly, Mr. News started looking much thinner and started to rub against my legs and even was “asking” to be pet. On one hand, it was very nice to finally have him close up and personal but on the other hand, it seemed to be that he was asking for help. He kept looking worse and was taken to the vet, where it was discovered, after many tests, x-rays and an examination, that he was quite sick. He was, sadly, to be joining so many others over the Rainbow Bridge but his incredibly loud voice and large persona, still linger in the air, where he enjoyed several years at the place where he chose to reside. He’s certainly remembered whenever I drive up to my job and, of course, when I read the Daily News. He is missed.

This is a tribute to an unusual cat, with an unusual name: “The Imposter”! At my job site, there was a wonderful stray cat, Anna Maria Alberghetti, who wandered all over the place for so many years. At times, I could pet her, so when “she” ran up to me one day and let me pet her, it wasn’t a big surprise – just one thing was wrong – she was much darker in color, too much black in her mixed-color coat, and didn’t look as old and raggedy as she always did. Well, I decided that my eyes were playing tricks on me! Soon, however, it became clear that this was NOT Anna Maria, so I started referring to her as “The Imposter”, then “Rosemary, the Imposter”! She also wandered all over the place and I never saw too much of her – she popped up at all different times, in different places! She was now easy to spot because the tip of her tail was a cream color but she was a mostly black, with a little dark orange, tortoise shell kitty. She was definitely not old, not like 17 year old Anna Maria. I naturally started a “campaign” to trap her and have her neutered. Then, one day, she suddenly appeared and looked so bad,
I couldn’t believe it!

She was crying and crying and looked much too thin. Very quickly, I was able to trap her and within a few days, it was discovered that she was positive for FELV. I also found out from an employee on the job grounds, that this was a cat she had known as a kitten and had called her “Daisy” – and that “Daisy” was only about 6 years old and had lived her life on the grounds. So, poor little “Rosemary the Imposter”, AKA “Daisy”, had to go to the Rainbow Bridge, where no doubt she met up with the “original”, Anna Maria, who had gone to the Rainbow Bridge on March 6th. This kitty truly WAS a “Great Pretender”.

 

Anna Maria Alberghetti was a sweet, loving, skinny, stray kitty at my job site. She was a tortoise shell cat who, while not really beautiful like the actress she was named for, had her own special charm. She would disappear for days, weeks, months – even years – at a time, then would suddenly appear and want her daily feedings! She always was skinny and kind of raggedy looking; however, that doesn’t mean that “men” didn’t find her attractive! I personally saw her being “pursued” by “Monty” and later on, by “Daily News”, two other strays living in her territory. She wandered over a large area of land and I’m sure she had her own secret hiding places for shelter since she lived through so many storms, both rain and snow.
I hadn’t seen her in years and when she suddenly showed up, it was quite a shock!

After that, she was around more often and then even let me pet her at times. In addition, to show how much of a survivor she was, I accidently discovered that she was being fed by another person, not at all near where I fed her, and this person had named her “Kayla” ! SO – she had two “owners”!

One day I was introduced to this other lady and we discussed one of the cats we were feeding, and after we both described one specific cat, we were quite suspicious, thinking that it might be the same one – and sure enough, one day, as this lady and I were talking, along came Anna Maria Alberghetti and the lady said “Oh look, there’s Kayla” ! So, Anna Maria, AKA Kayla, was making sure she got food in her own sneaky little way! As time went on, Anna seemed more “raggedy” and fragile but was eating well and walking around, covering much territory.

Then, one fateful day, I was approached by someone who informed me that she was “gone”, seemingly run over on our job grounds – it was heartbreaking news but not totally surprising, as she was about 17 years old and her age was catching up with her, so she was not as careful as she previously had been, when walking around. Her presence is missed so much – but she had a long life and will be placed to rest with a special tombstone, to attempt to give her the respect she had coming to her, for being such a survivor for so many years.

 

Benny Max Mariachi was my white, “Mexican” cat. How did that come about? Well, he was found by my neighbor outside a restaurant called “Mariachi’s, so that became the perfect last name for him. I didn’t want to be like everyone else who named their white cat “Snowball”,etc, so his first name, “Benny”, came from Uncle Ben’s Converted White Rice ! His middle name “Max” was after an uncle of mine who kept everyone informed about everyone else in the family – similarly, Benny was involved with all my cats and my dog, keeping everyone “in the loop” – a big job for a little kitten who was only 2 months old! So, there it was – a long, impressive name for a small, impressive cat! For some reason, and I’m ashamed to admit this, Benny and I never actually “bonded”! Perhaps this was because he wasn’t a “people cat”, he was an “animal cat” – he loved my other cats so much, especially my youngest black cat, Basil ben Jagger, and he absolutely adored my German Shepherd, Lady. Whenever Lady was eating a dog biscuit, you could find Benny right there, eating it WITH Lady! I do admit that I just kind of took Benny “for granted”.

I did give him the best possible care that I could but he mostly wanted – and received – love and attention from his “siblings”. Benny was rather large and one of my friends gave him the nickname of The Beluga Whale ! He was a well-behaved whale and lived “the good life”, running around and playing and having a blast! I used to sing to him that great song by Elton John – “Benny and the Jets” – I don’t know if Benny liked it but at least, he didn’t seem to have any objections! As the years passed, Benny decided he wasn’t crazy about Basil ben Jagger any more and he became focused on my big tabby cat, Dexter Ambrose.

Until Dexter passed away in 2008, he and Benny spent a great deal of time together. When Benny turned 12 years old, he started to show his age and he couldn’t jump too high any more – he also developed other medical issues. Every time I took him to the vet, people in the waiting room would exclaim: “What a beautiful cat” and I would say “Yes, but I don’t really like him!” Workers at the vet clinic would tease me about this, saying “… and she says that right in FRONT of him, poor cat” !

One time, after Benny had been treated at the vet clinic, I was given some formally typed instructions for his home care and there, at the bottom of the page, his vet had typed in: “I don’t know why you don’t like him, he seems like a good guy to ME !” More time passed, more medical issues developed, and Benny also “lost” his beloved Lady, my Shepherd who had passed away in 2008, but he soldiered on. Basically, Benny appeared to be ok despite his increasing medical problems. Although he still preferred my cats to me, he did start jumping into my lap quite often. I allowed this and even pet him but I still felt we were missing that special bond. His new special bond was now with Luke Skywalker, the only other cat living with me. Luke had recently lost HIS special pal, Basil ben Jagger, and I watched with fascination as Luke coerced Benny into having a relationship with him! Luke insisted upon being groomed and fussed over by Benny, and Benny gradually gave in and agreed to become Luke’s special pal. I never tired of seeing how they interacted, was something to behold!

Then, one day, I was looking at a recently taken picture of Benny and I saw how old Benny looked. At that moment, I had strong and instant feelings for him – they certainly must have been there all along, hiding somewhere deep within me but now they had risen to the surface, leaving me with total love for my Beluga Whale. How, I asked myself, did these feelings lay dormant for so many years?

Benny was now, along with Luke, sleeping with me every night. There WAS a little problem with this – I would be woken, usually around 2 AM, by Benny who was trying to eat my hair!!! This was weird but true! As fates would have it, Benny’s medical issues became worse. One sure way of knowing that he was feeling so poorly – besides the fact that he was barely eating – was that he had stopped trying to eat my hair during the night – a very bad sign. He was on various meds as well as on a special diet and yet, here I was, facing his imminent trip over the Rainbow Bridge. I felt guilty and also felt cheated out of having more time with him despite the 15 years we DID have together.

I also felt horribly sad for Luke, who would now be left with no special friend. Only one consolation was to be found – the thought that somewhere, somehow, Benny would be joined once more with his former “loves”, Basil, Dexter and Lady, who were all out there, beyond the Bridge, just waiting to welcome him “home”.

 

When people refer to a “stray”,it sounds so casual, meaningless & without dignity. Monty was a stray – a stray, though, with a name, a presence and a personality. Monty would often roll around on the ground so playfully – but generally stopped short of allowing himself to be pet – although I was able at times, to sneak in a quick pat on his back or head.

Monty was a big, orange fellow who lived on the grounds where I work. He was approximately 3 years old. He would come to eat on & off – not on a schedule regular enough for me to plan a time for trapping him to get him neutered. Maybe that was HIS plan – to keep me on my toes & never let me catch him in a routine schedule, thus preventing me from fixing him! Monty enjoyed chasing around an older female cat on the grounds, Anna Maria Alberghetti, and he also was able to co-exist with my “main” grounds cat,
old Harold Zimmerman.

Time passed, perhaps a year, & I always talked about getting Monty fixed – one time, actually got to see him when I had the chance to try to trap him but he was too smart for me! He went partially into the trap, got the food, & took off! Sneaky he was but such a handsome fellow! Well, after about a year, I actually was able to secure a good home for him, at the house of an employee who had previously adopted another “grounds” cat from me. This certainly seemed like it was meant to be – this was FATE! Monty was scheduled to be neutered, tested & to receive shots on a mobile rescue van. I was able to “scruff” him & place him in a carrier one early morning & brought him to a rescue friend, who set him up in a large cage where he’d be until “neutering day”. After 2 days, it was discovered that the van was NOT going to be available & plans were left up in the air, while i had to decide how to proceed. I finally decided to take him to my own vet – yes, it would be much, much, MUCH more in terms of dollars & cents but hey, I couldn’t lose the chance of getting him into a good home!

After getting an appointment & getting Monty to my vet, I explained how he very well might not be easy at all to examine since he’s from the streets. He sure made a liar out of me! He was so well behaved that the vet said she wished all cats that came there were like him! He let the vet do anything & everything to him, no complaints from him at all! He immediately became quite popular there! Then, fate stepped in so cruelly – his initial test for Feline Leukemia was positive. It was downhill from there – we ordered another test to be sent to the lab and 24 hours later, his diagnosis was confirmed – and suddenly, I had to “let him go”. This experience was heart wrenching; however, it would have been more so if his disease had progressed, undiscovered, and he lay suffering somewhere, in a vulnerable state, on the grounds at my job.

Yes, Monty was a stray – but he was a stray who made a big impression on many, especially during the last week of his orange life.

 

What a hard thing “it” always is to do – what an incredibly difficult decision to make………and this time was no exception, although I’ve had to make that decision so
very many times before. Cassie, a little calico, was found on my job site when she was about 10 months old – she was adorable, loving & very thrilled to hang out on the hospital grounds where I worked. She became familiar with both the outside area where she played and the
inside area where I worked.

I kept my car window open & she’d go in & out, having a scratching post & a blanket in the car just for her, and food as well. I tried many times to get her adopted but no home was found and she remained our “mascot” at work. She was, of course, taken to be spayed & received her shots. She proceeded to live a very chaotic and ever-changing life. She once fell through a drop ceiling and although she seemed fine, it was discovered in later years that she had sustained fractures! Somehow, she had healed on her own. Another time, she got snowed in after she jumped down into a sewer & luckily, my co-worker dug out the snow & very likely saved her cute little life! She subsequently, though, was banished from my job site, where due to “health issues”, animals were not allowed.

One of my neighbors kept her the first night & the next day I was informed that while Cassie was very pretty, she was a crazy, biting cat, biting for no reason! What a shock that was, she had NEVER done that before – never, ever! Another friend of mine fostered her for 3 weeks and she also, was constantly attacked by Cassie! Next, Cassie was at yet another friend’s house – he kept her for 3 months before announcing that he was tired of walking around his apartment with a broom to brush her off when she continuously made surprise attacks on him! I gave up trying to find a place for her & adopted her
for myself in January, 1996.

For the first 10 days, she paced back & forth on my bedroom window sill, literally screaming & screaming, day & night. She finally realized she was not going to be allowed to go outside & quieted down, resigned to her new life with 8 other cats & a German Shepherd. ALL of my cats immediately hated poor little Cassie! My dog, though, was in love with her & if any of my cats would go after her, “Lady” barked in a special high pitched tone that would let me know Cassie was in trouble & needed me to save her! Cassie developed an interesting habit of sleeping on top of my stove (which luckily for her, I almost never used).

She either loved the heat from the burners or maybe, she just thought my other cats wouldn’t find her up there! Years later, I realized it was best to have Cassie in her own space & moved her into my bedroom. She seemed to enjoy her new & safe territory where she had plenty of room to play, plenty of places to sleep, and her own private litter boxes – what more could a kitty want? Unfortunately, though, she was now attacking ME ! She’d stare at me, giving me the “once over”, while she decided where she’d like to bite me! She did this on a daily basis, to the point where I had to keep a spray bottle containing water at the side of my bed, to try to protect myself. Although Cassie was always very small, she was a mighty hunter – of ME !

I still loved her dearly but it WAS a challenge to run away from this itty bitty kitty! (She was never more than about 6 lbs). One really cute habit Cassie had (sure was cuter than her constant biting!), was the way she washed her face. Instead of doing it like other cats, licking her paw and then cleaning her face with that paw, she used the same method but with a HIND leg instead of a front paw! Sure wish I had a video of that! Well, the years passed and I was very impressed by the fact that Cassie was the only cat in my household who was never on a special diet or any medications despite her advanced age. Then, suddenly, this tiny bundle of terror became ill – was eating poorly, losing weight, and attacked me no more – , a true sign that she wasn’t feeling well at all. Many vet visits later, as her health declined even more, it was determined that there was no further treatment to help her.

She would have been 17 on April 2nd, 2010 but I couldn’t be selfish & keep her around for this birthday – instead, I had to honor her life by letting her go…..and I loved her enough to do this on Valentine’s Day. She’ll always be in my heart but I’ll be missing my 4lb Cassie bell – always & forever.

 

“How Do I Love Thee – Let Me Count the Ways…”
Yes, some may think it corny, silly, or even downright dumb to attribute the words of a famous poem to a pet – some people, yes, but not real “animal people”. Those people truly understand the heartache of losing a beloved pet – especially when it comes only a little more than 2 months after the loss of one pet and less than 3 weeks after
the loss of yet another pet.

This is where I am today – forced once more to “let go” of a beloved pet, my favorite cat, Mr. Kelly O’Shea ( he had become my “Irish” cat, because he had red hair!).

Kelly was, I was told by some neighbors, living with people in my building – until, that is, they moved to Texas & left him on the street to fend for himself. How traumatic for him but how fortunate for me! I have always been thankful that I decided to adopt him!

I remember so clearly the night I had looked outside for him up until midnight – I had made an appointment to have him neutered the next day & suddenly, he was nowhere to be found – no fool, he!!! Well, he ran but he couldn’t hide – not for long, & the next day, off to the vet he went ! He was officially initiated into my home on October 26, 1992. He was kind of a loner & didn’t really become involved with the few other cats I had at the time. The following year, he had to deal with the dog I adopted – it took poor Kelly 9 months before he had the nerve to walk across a room in front of the dog! My dog never bothered Kelly at all, but it was
all quite new for my Irishman!

Kelly loved the sound & look of water. He had a funny habit of running into the bathroom if he heard the toilet being flushed and before the cover could be put down, there was Kelly, standing on his hind legs, front paws on the toilet seat, peering down into the bowl! I used to think he must be looking for the Tidy Bowl Man !!! Kelly was very affectionate with me and was a seemingly normal, healthy cat, having received a good bill of health from the vet – shots given & all tests having come back negative for the usual diseases. Suddenly & very unexpectedly, 6 years later, Kelly had some unusual symptoms which prompted me to ask for him to be re-tested & even the vet was shocked that Kelly tested positive for FIV.

After that, over the years,
several ailments occurred:

A) an ongoing, strange condition surrounding his nails B) an unusual bacteria in his toes that’s usually found in the lungs C) a severely infected toe D) an ongoing severe inner ear infection that required a major operation and special aftercare at home
E) the return off & on of the ear infection F) thyroid disease (enter pills!)
G) kidney disease (enter me giving him IV fluids!) & finally, severe anemia & a heart murmur – amazing that he lived this long – he would have turned 17 on November 11th. Kelly endured so, so much throughout his life – yet, he was so, so loving with me at home. Another problem with Kelly was that due to a trauma he suffered at one vet clinic back in 1996, he became a vicious maniac when taken to any vet clinic after that – I doubt anyone in ANY clinic would have believed me about his true loving nature!!

The years passed & Kelly just hung in there – he went through many types of vet visits, many procedures, many treatments at home – he just went on & on & on – until he could not go on any longer. Now, I will go on…… but as of this writing, Kelly has only been gone for 6 hours and oh, how I miss him.

 

Once again, I find myself on this site writing a tribute – what a sad chore this is – and yet, it somehow
alleviates some of the pain.

This time around, I’m writing in memory of my once big (18 lbs) Dexter Ambrose, who, before traveling over the “Rainbow Bridge”, was only 9.5 lbs. Dexter developed hyperthyroidism over a year ago & although he’s been on medication, he remained ravenous and kept losing weight. It was felt that there was a chance that he might have had some type of cancer despite the fact that this was not really being indicated by all of the tests given to him.
Then, on April 29th, he was diagnosed with diabetes & immediately put on insulin. After being on insulin for 4 months, he suddenly – with no warning – went to bed ok one day & on the next day he had developed a severe, uncommon, unbelievably terrible to look at, “skin condition” which was determined later that day to be a complication of his diabetes. The prognosis was extremely poor and he was in very bad shape. There was only once choice – and all pet owners know what a hard choice that was to make.

Dexter Ambrose had just turned 17 years old on the 4th of July. I originally found him in my building’s parking lot in 1995 & after having him neutered, tested, given appropriate shots, I embarked upon the journey of looking for a home for him. He soon got one, a home with a legally blind young lady who had 1 cat. Within a few days, though, I received a frantic call with the news that he “bit” her cat & I was told to get him out right away – I had to go & get him at 3:30 AM!!! I was determined NOT to adopt him, didn’t want any more cats! I then was given the name of a person who was willing to “foster” him while my friends & I continued to look for a home for him. Dexter, though, had other ideas – he got fleas, which of course prevented me from giving him to someone without having him treated & totally cured of this problem. Next, creative Dexter put on a good show of “panting” one day when it was 105 degrees outside, so I took him into my home. When I picked him up onto my lap during that day, he put a paw up on my chest & looked deeply into my eyes. Ok, I was a sucker, he “got” to me & has been with me ever since that day! Dexter,when he was much younger, had a pancreatic condition which required daily pills. Dexter LOVED these pills & literally climbed up my legs trying to pull the pills out of my hand! This behavior earned him the nickname of “Dexter the Druggie” !!! His other nicknames were “Dexetrim” (after the once well-known diet pill) & “Mr. Rat Tail” – due to his long, straight, thin tail. Dexter got along well with all of my cats except the one that everyone in my household hated. He joined in the “collective hate club”!
Dexter maintained a close friendship with my white cat for several years & they could be found together, grooming each other. He also became very close to my elderly dog who was not doing well, and frequently, they would sleep right next to each other on my dog’s special blanket. Who knew that only 7 weeks after Dexter’s doggie friend went to the Rainbow Bridge, that Dexter would be joining her? It does bring some sort of relief to think of them being together again to continue their friendship.

And so, there’s no longer that screechy, “rusty” sound of Dexter’s morning meowing, asking for his meal. There’s no Dexter for me to go running after him with “test strips” whenever I noticed him going to the litter box, to check his glucose readings. No more lifting him up to his feeding spot that was now too high for him…and no more looking at his beautiful green eyes. His eyes now blend with the many colors of the rainbow, as he takes his place with all of the other pets – over that bridge.

 

How can she not be here any more? I get ready to walk her – and then I remember. I get ready to feed her – and then I remember. I hear her trying to get up from the floor – but she’s not even there. I had rescued Lady when she was only 6 months old. A young man I knew – a true animal lover – kept asking me to adopt her – she was an abandoned dog, living in the yard of an oil company [and would also stay in his back yard]. I went to meet her a few times & finally DID take her because I was informed that she was in possible danger from some neighborhood guys who were coming around her with their pit bull. I hooked up with a rescue organization and I agreed to take Lady to a vet for a bath & shots & said that I’d foster her while they helped me find her a good home.

This plan went into action but soon changed course when Lady (who had already been named before I met her), started acting in an aggressive and unpredictable manner. She also had never been indoors & needed LOTS of walks to introduce her to the ways of being a house-broken dog. It was very obvious that it might not be safe to adopt her out to someone, not knowing how she would interact with other people and other pets; therefore, I became her very reluctant owner. During the first year of living with her, I had 3 different dog trainers. I was told I’d always have to be careful with her as she had “fear-aggression”, probably because she had been somewhat abused by a homeless man who “cared for” her before I met her. I had to find & purchase a special collar to make sure she couldn’t get out of it – she was very, very hyperactive & while walking, she also jumped into the air & started to spin!! People would ask me how I trained her to do that – believe me, I only wanted to get her NOT to do that! Luckily, Lady LOVED cats, as I had several. Some of them just tolerated her and one adored her! Lady was really terrified of one of my cats – this cat could just stand in a doorway & Lady wouldn’t walk past him – it was so comical to watch! Some people had cats sitting in their windows – I had a German Shepherd in MINE !!!

Neighbors would report to me that shortly before I came home from work, Lady would be sitting on the window sill in my living room! (Since I live on the first floor, she could easily be seen by all those who passed by!) Despite her behavioral problems, Lady was very loving, very smart & had a great sense of humor. For the most part, she didn’t like other dogs but she did have a great time playing with a neighbor’s pug for a while and another neighbor had a Jindo (a Korean dog, very much like a white Eskimo dog) & he & Lady were crazy about each other.

The years passed and Lady endured a few minor surgeries, then had a benign tumor on her spleen – had both spleen & tumor removed. Of course, she got arthritis as she got older but just kept on truckin’. “Animal people” know that it’s sometimes hard to say just what a pet means to us and how many different & amazing qualities our pets have – there’s so strong a feeling, so strong a bond. Lady was now in her older years & developed a progressive, neurological condition, called “degenerative myelopathy”. Everything gradually became harder for her to do – walking, sitting, even just getting up from the floor.

Many accommodations were made for her until it reached a point of no more choices, no more accommodations, just the horribly sad truth of what had to be – and so it was. Lady lived to be 15 years & 2 months old -she truly had a great life. Yes, it was a tremendous challenge to live with her but although she often gave me much stress, she also gave me a tremendous amount of love and affection. As the days go by now, there are so many things I start to get ready to do for her or do with her …………..and then I remember.

 

“A world of tears is my world today, for Slinky Lee Cole had to go away”

Slinky was a black, feral, bouncy little kitten when I first saw her in 1993 – she was a few months old and had 4 feral siblings: PG, Scaredy-Cat, Mama Teddi, Mr. T, & Mama Teddi 2. Her mother & aunt were Mrs. Willow and Goldie, her daddy was Old King Cole. This feral family was my main introduction into the world of “cat rescue”, something I was involved in for many, many years. Slinky got her name because she would literally “bounce” around the yard in which she was born, like the toy with the same name. I trapped and spayed her in May of 1994 & continued to feed her and her family 2X daily until one by one, they were all gone, gone to the Rainbow Bridge, each one at a different time, with a different story.

On April 3, 2000, I again trapped Slinky and this time, after a visit to the vet, she was brought into my home to stay. She had “her” room, where she promptly chose a spot on top of a hutch as her own personal, place to stay. She had access to other rooms but for many years, did not choose to enter into the “unknown” places. She did, however, gain an instant and lasting friend in my black cat, Basil ben Jagger, who also was once a totally feral cat on the streets. They could often be found cuddled together or grooming each other – I was so happy that she had company, for it was also quite a while before she allowed ME to touch her. Slowly but surely, though, she did become a real pleasure to have around, letting me pet her more and more and learning to love it as well! Slinky seemed to have no medical “issues” and this was the case until one little bout of cystitis in January of 2007.

During this past year, Slinky finally made the trip into all the other rooms she had previously ignored and little by little, she joined the other cats and one dog (German Shepherd) in my home. What a joy it was to see Slinky as a part of the “general population” after all the years in which she chose to be exiled! Then, on the July 4th holiday, she seemed to again come down with cystitis – a visit to the vet, though, brought surprising news very soon of her severe anemia – this was truly a shock to hear about. More tests, x-rays, and soon a blood transfusion was recommended – was actually very necessary. She received blood from one of her “house mates”, Luke Skywalker, also a former stray. Slinky was sent home with medicines but despite Luke’s superb blood, Slinky kept getting more anemic and additional tests showed that she had the dreaded Feline Leukemia – despite the fact that tests in 2000 and tests done on the same day as her recent transfusion, were negative. So, for 3 weeks, brave and amazing little 7 pound Slinky, pranced around as if she hadn’t a care in the world – the vets could not believe she was still around – it just seemed as though she just wasn’t ready to go. Then, she suddenly started to decline, quickly, leaving me with the dreaded knowledge
of what must be done.

I couldn’t, wouldn’t, deny her the freedom from oncoming suffering – my love for her was too great – and so it came to be, that she is once again with all of her family, over the ever-embracing Rainbow Bridge. Slinky must be bouncing around once again – and I will bounce back, if only to continue to tend to those still in my care.

 

When I first spotted this stunning, blue-eyed cat in a neighbor’s yard, 2 things came to my mind: first, that “she” belonged to that neighbor, and secondly, being “tri-colored”, with black, brown & cream, this cat was a female. I found out that “she” was, in fact, a stray & started to feed “her”, giving her the name “Tinker Bell”. I was trying to find a home for “her” but was not very successful.

One day, I pointed “her” out to the groomer who came to tend to my friend’s cats & he said – “That’s a neutered male!” I was quite surprised – he explained that the cat was part Siamese, hence that particular coloring. I took the cat to the vet to double check & was told that yes, he WAS a male but he actually was NOT neutered. Apparently, he had undescended testicles and therefore looked neutered but wasn’t – so, snip, snip, snip!!!

I also changed this poor cat’s name to “Mister” Tinker Bell & told people who questioned his name, that he was a female impersonator! Mr. Tinker Bell, unlike other strays who didn’t go too far from their feeding stations, wandered around the entire neighborhood & he bullied many cats, not endearing himself to me with this behavior. One day, though, after having been feeding him for about 2 ½ years, a neighbor threatened to poison him.

Mr. Tinker Bell was not feral & it would have been easy for her to catch him – thus, I took him into my home, despite the fact that I really did not want additional cats. Much to my surprise, there was no bullying behavior at all & Mr. Tinker Bell settled in quite nicely, making special friends with Simba Puppy Rover, one of my other rescues. Mr. Tinker Bell loved to jump onto my lap & have his “rear end” face me, & he then wanted me to rub his back up to the base of his tail, which he’d stick up in the air!

A really funny thing that happened at home now was that for some unknown reason, my German Shepherd, who loves cats, was afraid of Mr. Tinker Bell!! All Mr. TB had to do, was stand in a doorway, & Lady would NOT venture past him!!! This remained the case for the entire time that Mr. Tinker Bell lived with us – it was truly comical to see! As he was part Siamese, Mr. TB had that habit of being a very vocal cat, meowing & meowing, for no apparent reason – sometimes, when he did this, I’d just start singing to him: “Don’t Cry for Me, Argentina” – that popular song from “Evita”!

Alas, one day, there WAS a very good reason for him to be crying. I came home from work to find Mr. TB, hiding under the bed, howling. His hind legs were paralyzed. I rushed him to the vet, where I was informed that he had what’s called a “saddle thrombosis” – a blood clot. He was admitted to the clinic where he stayed for a week, receiving pain meds, fluids, tests, etc,etc. Amazingly enough, he regained feeling in both legs & was able to eat his meals & use his litter box. He was discharged to me with a few different types of pills; however, I was told he had hypertrophic cardiomyopathy & that the prognosis was extremely poor.

He acted so “normal” at home, it was hard to believe there was anything seriously wrong with him. It was, though,only about 2 ½ weeks later, that he again became paralyzed & I knew what had to be done . No pet owner wants to have to make that decision and yet, our pets depend upon us to do what’s best for them, not for us.

We must not allow them to suffer, with pain & fear, with no hope of a happy & healthy day to day life. Mr. Tinker Bell added so much to my life, made me laugh so many times, and he was so handsome just to look at. So, strange as it may seem, I offer up a “thank you” to my cruel and mean-spirited neighbor who wanted to poison him – for due to her threats, Mr. Tinker Bell enjoyed many good years in a warm home, with cats to play with, a dog to intimidate, and an owner who will never, ever forget him.

 

How suddenly she came into my life….and how suddenly she left! Molly was abandoned by someone with no heart – left to languish on the streets of Brooklyn. How fortunate to have been able to live with Molly for almost 10 years – and how unfortunate that it could not have been
for many more years to come.

Molly was so sickly as a kitten and subsequently endured many different types of “episodes” that remained a mystery to many vets. She had many nicknames: Skinny Minnie, Bony Maroney, Pretty Kitty from the City, & Molly Wolly Doodle – oh yes, and “Rip & Tear” – she COULD be a biter at times!! She finally seemed to be stable & stayed that way for several years. She learned to accept the fact that she was living with several cats & a dog.

She learned to pretend to be “indifferent”, as opposed to afraid, when being chased around the house by a huge white whale (ok, so it was just a cat, but he LOOKS like a whale)! Molly was so intelligent, how DID she know that you need to turn a doorknob to try to exit a room? She was creative in choosing her resting places – on top of an old wooden clothes dryer, inside a shopping cart, on top of the refrigerator – well, yes, she was REALLY not resting there but seeking food! She had her own special water dish on top of the bathroom vanity & would always test the temperature of the water with her paw before drinking. She would insist upon sleeping in my room for months at a time – then, just as adamently, would suddenly refuse to go
in there for months at a time.

Once again, she came back to sleep there nightly – and how glad I am she did, not even realizing that soon I’d be without her. She suddenly became paralyzed in both hind legs, was severely ill with a “saddle thrombosis” (blood clot), which came from a terminal heart disease. There had been no previous sign of this at all. Molly was the 3rd cat I lost to this disease – how scared and ill she was…….and how sad and missing her, am I.

 

This is a well deserved tribute to Simba Puppy Rover who, unlike his name, was a CAT not a DOG!!
Simba was found in the street in 1996 – friendly,hungry,and craving affection. When he would climb up my legs to be pet, it brought to mind the actions of a puppy – hence, his “doggy” name! Simba was a classic orange tabby, with the unusual habit of always having his tail curled up over his back – rather monkey-like! After I adopted him, November 17, 1996, he was very active, playful with my cats & 1 dog, & would run to meet any visitor to my home.

He was my “official greeter”! I also sang “his” special song to him, letting him know how glad I was that he lived with me. (he either liked it or just “humored” me!!)
Even after being diagnosed with hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, he remained active & happy until he suddenly showed effects of his illness. Although he was supposed to be originally adopted to an elderly man whose cat ran away, the man changed his mind at the very last minute & I couldn’t NOT keep Simba – I’ve never regretted that decision.

He was a real trouper & always maintained his great disposition. He now joins his former close buddy,Mr. Tinkerbell, – another one of my rescue cats, who passed over to the Rainbow Bridge 1/19/04, after succumbing to the same disease as Simba. May they rejoice in their being together once again, playing & cuddling as
they did so often in the past.