Not flea-combing ... yet

Although it may appear that I am searching through Sr. Gris' head for fleas, I'm actually petting him behind the ears for the first time. He loves it, and is completely content and relaxed.

First purr

Tonight was the first night we held the speckled kitten without gloves. If I'm not mistaken, I could even hear a purr. She was calm, a little wriggly, as kittens often are.

Socializin'

The best thing about socializing feral cats is the feeling of accomplishment. You're just sitting there, having a beer or drinking some hibiscus iced tea, but as long as you have a kitten in your arms, you're doing something. "What are you guys up to these days?" "Oh, just socializing feral cats." All you have to do is just hold them affectionately, and you're suddenly making an impact instead of just sitting absently on your couch. It's the greatest. Especially when you're rewarded with a purr.

FYI

We interrupt this blog about feral cats to report that there are some seriously large roaches here in Austin.

Thank you.

Upside down

Rififi's world is now officially turned upside down. We've got cat carriers with kittens in the living room, bowls of water throughout the house, people coming by to set cat-traps, the sudden appearance of chicken baby food on chopsticks. Nothing is as it seems. To her credit, Rififi has so far engaged in minimal growling thus far, being content instead to have the occasional token smidge of baby food or Aquari-yums as a reward for good, non-threatening behavior.

Rififi was always "the baby" until now; although she's four, she's always mistaken for being a much younger cat.

"She is a kitten, yes?" says the vet.

"No, she's FOUR!" I always say, in the same strange proud way that parents brag about their kids' cuteness, as though it's something within their own control.

Rif's not afraid of anything, whether the vaccuum or a golden retriever, but I think she's a little unnerved by the new visitors. These days she hides beneath the Kingsford charcoal on the porch, breathing fast in the stiff heat of the summer.

At night, we hold her, feed her , and call her to sleep at the foot of the bed. She sleeps the same way between us, her purr low, her eyes squeezed into small papercuts.

Rififi, I still love you

The secret to a happy cat

You can't go wrong with the chopstick and baby food combo. They just go for it. Just look at the face of this tortoiseshell. No gloves needed, no additional protection necessary: just the simple combo of Gerber and Chinese culinary utensils. The only down side is that chicken baby food has the world's most repulsive odor. It literally hangs in the air. Kind of a mix between a burnt frozen dinner and Band-Aids. But still, just look at that cat's face.

Dinner via chopstick

The little grey cat is somewhat distracted by the glaring flash of my camera, but rest assured, he loves dinner via chopstick just as much as his sister. And he settles instantly into your lap, which is always nice.

The ultimate pacifier

Like I said, it works every time. The ultimate feral placation. Good for flossing purposes as well.

The chicken baby food trick

This afternoon after work, I purchased three jars of chicken baby food, on the advice of several veteran cat-trappers.

"Chicken baby food is a treat that almost no kitten can resist."

It's an odd feeling to walk into HEB, walk directly to the baby food aisle, select three tiny jars of baby food, pay for said baby food, and walk out. Most everyone else in the baby aisle was selecting the fancy pureéd assortments of vegetables for their youngsters: whipped asparagus with greens, delicate mixtures of beets and carrots, a smattering of toasted prunes. But for me, it's just the regular chicken. It's actually hard to find regular chicken baby food these days. Most of the selections feature some sort of addition: chicken with yams, broiled chicken with pureéd broccoli, chicken floating in a sea of odd alphabet-shaped pastry. After some searching, I found it: regular, plain Gerber chicken.

Regular, plain Gerber does the trick. For anyone wanting to socialize a feral kitten, this is unbelievable. You've got to have the appropriate vehicle, though, for introducing the baby food to your new kitten friends. You probably don't want to use your fingertip, as the little felines have teeth and get extremely excited once they smell the chicken -- which, to my nose, is abhorrent. However, we hit on the best delivery vehicle: take-out Chinese chopsticks. Simply dip the chopstick inside the nebulous container of whipped baby food, insert the chopstick between the bars of the cage, and watch your previously-feral friends suddenly take a shine to you. Works every time.

Got 'em!

From: daniel.xxxxx@gmail.com
To: exxxxxx@gmail.com
Date: Jun 23, 2005 3:26 PM
Subject: got 'em!


I've got the two kittens. Right now they are in separate carriers in our bedroom, so they can be separated from our little monsters. Call me (before 4:30) if you want to discuss.

It was so sad, Slinky was walking around crying for them. So sad.

love you,
d

When I arrived home today, I saw the kittens for the first time in their carriers. This photo pretty much says it all. They're not happy about it. Dan and I reassure ourselves that this is for their own good, that it is in fact possible to introduce these little kittens to the wonders of the domestic life.

A brief shout-out to the wonders of Craigslist: I put an ad up on Craigslist requesting the use of carriers for feral socialization purposes. I got at least 15 -- that's right 15! -- emails from people who supported us in this crazy endeavor, and who offered their carriers for use. One woman brought by a jumbo-sized carrier that must have been used for a Husky or other large-sized dog. Another woman gave us her unused, brand new cat carrier that she received as a gift and didn't ever put to use. Yay to the kindness of strangers.

Cat socialization advice

From: Feral Cat Support
To: Erika
Date: Jun 23, 2005 8:18 PM
Subject: Re: Discovered ex-pet cat with kittens ...

Erika: I have a trap for trapping the mom cat and the kittens can't be spay/neutered until they are either 3 mos. or 3 lbs. If you adopt them earlier you can purchase a voucher at ATA and give it to the adopters as part of the adoption fee. Your best bet in socializing the kittens is to keep them inside and away from mom and really force your attentions on them. The first time I ever tried to socialize kittens I was unsuccessful because I kept respecting their privacy. MAKE them pay attention to your gentle attentions by not giving up even if hissed at. You are trying to show/prove that this 2 legged animal is good to 4 legged ones. (I lick my fingers and pet/rub their heads, just like mom does) Good luck!

Trapping prep: continued

It's working. Slinky is actually getting used to going inside the carrier to eat. Strangely, she doesn't even mind so much if we're outside when this happens; she just goes right in after looking around a bit. The kittens follow her into the carrier as well, which should make for easy trapping when the day comes.

Setting the stage

The kittens are losing their blue eyes and are becoming more interested in playing with each other than being around their mother. This, according to the folks at Alley Cat Allies, means that it's time to try to trap the mother cat and get her spayed. It also means that the clock is ticking for the young kittens. Although feral kittens can be successfully socialized as late as 10-12 weeks, it's significantly harder to expose them to human contact that late in their development. By that time, they've internalized a fear of humans, and may always be somewhat sketchy and shy in their relationships with people. And the sketchier the kittens behave towards human beings, the harder it is for them to get adopted. So, our relationship with the kittens and Slinky is taking a different turn.

On the advice of several feral cat websites, we've started putting the cats' food outside near a carrier or other box. Each day, you move the food closer and closer to the carrier, until the food is actually in the carrier itself. This gets the cats/kittens used to going inside something in order to get their meal, which makes the trapping process infinitely easier, as one might imagine.

We've started setting the food out in little increments -- kind of like a "trail" towards the main meal inside the carrier. At first we just put the open carrier outside, but the cats didn't seem to mind it at all, so we went onward with the process, setting the stage for the actual trapping experience.

A life beyond trappin'

Occasionally, Dan and I take a break from thinking about the cats. For real. We float in the pool, drink rosé, crack jokes, test out the volleyball net, and curse the pollen and the mosquitos.

Eden and The Feral Way

After six weeks of existence in the wild, the brains of cats become imprinted with what my friend Esha calls "The Feral Way." How-to guides warn of this. "It's getting time," Dan says, "It's getting time." We watch the mother cat lurk around, her tail a tight tuck between her legs. The kittens will follow suit, and we know this. If we don't act now, the imprint begins.

We watch the silver mother slink through the bushes. She jumps at laughter, the drop of a glass. The sudden hiss of a soda and she's gone, disappearing into the wisteria and the Carolina jasmine, their flowers small stars still quaking after her leap. I watch Slinky and think how little she knows, how simple her life is. Her life is a series of the smallest constraints: the green tupperware lid filled with crunchies fashioned in the shapes of Xs and Os, the plastic tub of warm water, dumped and filled daily from the garden hose. She's gotten used to entering into the dull green carrier for her food. All of this will change soon. Her meows hang in the night with the weight of wet laundry.

We stopped filling the concrete birdbath for Slinky once we discovered the bodies of grackles and sparrows. The other day I found the feet of birds, their talons the color of chewing gum, by Slinky's roost underneath the porch. The fluff of the birds was spread out on the grass. We've resolved to feed Slinky more and more often, get her even more accustomed to the oddity of finding crunchies laid out for her inside the carrier. We're weaning her and her kittens from this strange Eden out here, getting them ready for the biggest disruption yet.

As close as it gets

This blurry photo is as close as we can get to the little kittens. Despite their curiosity, they are still total mimics. What Slinky does, they do. You open the door, Slinky dives underneath the porch, and they follow suit like tiny blurred bullets. It's hard not to get frustrated at them. Sometimes I curse them silently underneath my breath. Come ON. Damn! I'm leaving food for you guys.

I'm shaking the bag of crunchies to get them used to the sound of food. Each day, Dan and I move the food bowl a little closer to the door, so the Hideaways have to venture out a little further in order to eat. I started off putting the bowl immediately beside the opening of their "cave" underneath the porch. Now it's a few feet away, so they have to eat out in the open. We'll see what happens.

Tortoise-shell Hideaway

The little tortoise-shell Hideaway is slightly fiestier than her brother, although you can't tell that from this incredibly blurry photo. She watches our heads bob as we float in the pool, and doesn't run away as quickly as her mother when we pull ourselves out of the shallow end. She's still got her blue eyes, but they're a little darker than before.