Three faces of change

Before the cats went in for their surgeries, I took a few photos as they sat in their respective carriers. Before you exists a small taxonomy of various reactions to impending change, as evidenced by three formerly feral cats.


Pico chooses to vocalize his opinion about the matter.




Clementine accepts the situation gracefully, albeit with wide-eyed trepidation.




Sr. Gris looks for a way the #^&$ out of the impending experience.

Spay Day

I took the kittens to Emancipet's mobile spay station in South Austin this morning. Even though it was early, the parking lot at the park was full of folks ready to have their cats and dogs spayed and/or neutered. Each of us took a number, and waited in the sun for our numbers to be called. It didn't take long before our companion animals were ushered into the mobile surgery van by friendly Emancipet staff. It really is incredible that you can get your pets spayed/neutered for free: for anyone considering this, here's Emancipet's schedule. I strongly encourage you to to take advantage of this fantastic and compassionate service, if you're in the Austin area.

My sweet friend Esha picked the cats up after their surgeries and brought them home, since I was at work. Amazingly, the kittens seem to be doing just fine. They don't even seem to be in pain at all; Emancipet provides pain medication to dogs and cats free of charge as well, which makes for an easy recovery.

Why "Free to a Good Home" is a bad idea

As we seek loving homes for Sr. Gris, Clementine, and Pico Hideaway, I wanted to pass on some of the worthwhile information that I've learned during this process.

Some folks have asked us, "Are you guys going to put a 'free kittens' ad up somewhere soon?" Here's a really good article from The Animal Spirit that details why "free to a good home" is a bad idea. Here in Austin, some cruel people are actually throwing kittens onto the interstate. It's hard to believe that someone could be that heartless.

"Screen potential adopters carefully," is the advice we've gotten from folks who foster abandoned kittens on a regular basis. It's sad that this has to be the case, but I'm happy to do it, if it means finding a truly good home for our little friends.

Moment o' cuteness

I present to you: your moment o' cuteness.

Thank you.

!!!

I love this photo because Clementine looks so tiny, which she is, and because her tail looks like a little exclamation point. Clementine is getting a lot more adventurous these days, and spends a lot of her time on the porch climbing up the support beams to view the world from new heights.

Portrait of a complex relationship

And speaking of spirited, here's the ever-fiesty Pico making an obvious impact on Rififi's perception of the world. No photo better embodies their relationship.

Rififi's getting really good at the low, throaty growl. And the swatting.

Blue cheese or Easy Cheese? The choice is yours.

The 12th was Dan's birthday, which we spent floating in the pool and having a dinner to end all dinners at the fabulous Zoot Restaurant. (Have you ever eaten a blue cheese tart that made you want to stand up on your chair and sing? I have!)

After our amazing dinner, we headed back home, full of wine and French cuisine. And what better way to end an evening than by socializing a bathroom full o' cats to a larger space?

Having experienced firsthand the power of Easy Cheese used as a training reward with cats, Dan got our supply (used only for cat, not human, consumption) and attempted to "reward" the little cats for staying calm and playful in a larger space. We're paying special attention to Sr. Gris, who stays calm, but is basically content just to sit in your lap while the other cats play together. Not necessarily a bad thing -- but we just want to see if he can venture a little further out of his comfort zone.

The balancing act

Clementine is getting even more skilled at riding around on Dan's shoulder, especially if she's had a little Easy Cheese beforehand.

Best cat face of the day

I find this photo of Pico chillin' by the toilet completely hilarious for some reason.

Three cats in a tub, part two

Sr. Gris and Clementine continue to relax by the spigot. They're going to be sad when we actually have to use the tub.

Three cats in a tub

Today was the first full days that Sr. Gris, Clementine, and Pico have spent a significant portion of the day outside their carriers. I decided to put them in the bathroom, since they tend to get a little intimidated when they're in a large, open space. They seem to have a special affinity for the bathtub: an affinity so great, in fact, that it causes their eyes to emit a radioactive glow.
They seem to really enjoy it in there -- a lot more space to investigate than their carriers. Pico and Clementine were playing hide-and-seek in a paper bag a moment ago. Sr. Gris, calm as ever, has spent most of the time contemplating the drain.

Portrait of an ear-tipped tabby

Tonight was the first night I've seen Slinky since her spay. Strangely, she allowed me to get very close to her after I gave her a few handfuls of Purina ONE. She seems a little more relaxed, although it could just be the lingering effects of anesthesia.

You can really see the ear-tipping in this particular image. It actually isn't as intense or dramatic as I thought it would be; it's just a little slice of the ear, not an entire half taken off. Slinky seems not to notice or care.

The newly-spayed Slinky returns

Mother Slinky is now spayed! She's healing well, and was released in our yard last night while I was at my Spanish class.

I left out crunchies and water for Slinky, but I haven't seen her yet. The vets tipped her ear so that, in the event that she's picked up again, other veterinarians will instantly know that she's been spayed, and she won't have to go through the process of being opened up again. Little half-eared Slinky. Aw. Photos are soon to follow.

Introducing ... Pico Hideaway!

In what could be termed the biggest personality turnaround in history, the new kitten, aka Pico Hideaway (named for his experience as the main spicy ingredient in the "kitty burrito"), has proven to be one of the sweetest kittens ever. In only 72 hours, Pico has learned that we're actually nice people, and that we're to be trusted. Pico now yearns to be held, follows the chopstick-with-babyfood around (making both Dan and I remark at how easily he could be trained!), and sits in our laps purring. It's amazing what a little trust can do. Pico is just plain wonderful. We marvel at how eager he is to be loved, and how much he wants to be held.

To date, no one has responded to my "found kitten" signs about Pico that I posted around the neighborhood. Judging by his prior condition (severely underweight and completely terrified), I think he may not have ever had human contact until now. We must have gotten him just in time -- he's about 7 weeks old, so he's at the cusp of development. A few weeks later, and he would have been a lot more difficult to socialize. It might have even been impossible. It's hard to believe how loving he actually is, but it's true.

Darling Clementine Hideaway

Clementine is so great because she's so secure and curious. She's not afraid of the hiss the screen door makes when it shuts, or of the shadows Rififi and Orangina cast against the window screen. She'll look Rif and Gina right in the eyes, and just keep purring in your lap.
Clementine's greatest joy, other than being held, is to play with these cheapo Hartz "Midnight Crazies" cat toys in her carrier. She doesn't really need any other cats to keep her occupied; she just makes up her own fun as she goes along. Dan took her from the front room and put her in our hallway and bathroom, just as a test to see how she feels about being in a non-enclosed space for a while. She was completely happy -- amazing when you think that just a short time ago, she could barely even be held, much less allowed out of her crate.

The expressive, yet introspective, Sr. Gris Hideaway

Don't let his trashy television viewing habits fool you. This cat is completely stately and evocative, like an Olan Mills portrait. For real. He's just plain darling. And a complete lap-warmer.

Spay it, don't spray it.

The word from our helpful point person from SpayAustin, is that Slinky is now spayed, as of 7:30 this morning. Slinky is apparently healing well, and should be able to be returned to our property in a few days.

The amazing thing is that we trapped Slinky just in time. According to the vet, she was in full heat, and would have become pregnant again in a matter of days. Good timing on our part.

Have you seen me?

I put these signs up around the neighborhood today, in the hopes someone would respond about the new grey member of the Hideaway clan. So far, nobody's come forth.

Check out the fact that this sign is sandwiched between another "lost pet" sign, and a sign announcing the sale of neighborhood chihuahua puppies. Sigh.

The surreal life, featuring Sr. Gris Hideaway

Sr. Gris is, I have discovered, the kind of cat that loves nothing more than to sit on your lap whilst watching bad television. He seems to have a special affinity for bad reality television, namely The Surreal Life -- specifically, with those episodes featuring Tammy Faye Baker.

Just look at those eyes. He's hooked.

No longer anonymous

The cats have names now. It had to be done. There's only so long you can refer to "the little grey and white one" without feeling strange about it. So now we have Clementine, Pico, and Sr. Gris.

And then there were three.

Within five minutes after Dan set the trap for Slinky, I got the call at work.

"I got one. But it's not Slinky. It's that other grey kitten."

That other grey kitten? The one that just started hanging out in the neighborhood, sleeping underneath the Hondas on the curb? We'd seen him before; he'd started sneaking Slinky's food a few weeks prior. We'd leave some star-shaped crunchies on an upturned green Tupperware lid for Slinky, as always, and there he'd be: a little furtive, a little ragged, but not afraid of much.

"Not sure what to do about this one," Dan says over the phone. "He's scared, really scared, and doesn't know what's happening. I put him in the small carrier."

We discuss the pros and cons of what to do with the new kitten for about five minutes. Then we decide to socialize him along with the rest of Slinky's brood. He's around the same age, with the same attributes: very hungry, very scared, a little scruffy, and needing a home. So we decide to take him in, in the hopes we can socialize him and find him a home. What's one more, right?

After all, he took the bait.

He's a little different, though, in that he's a bit of a fighter. Our guess is that he could have been someone's tumbly 6-week-old kitten set out for the night too soon, spooked by neighborhood dogs and cars and pre-Fourth fireworks. More likely, his mother was a feral cat like Slinky, but perhaps not as lucky. Whatever the case, this kitten is bold, bold, bold, and hisses at every turn.

All we know about this kitten is that he's scrappy, lunging at your hand when you unhook the front of the cheap plastic carrier. He spits in your face when you coo, "Hey little kitty, hey new little kitty," through the plastic grill. He watches you with his big eyes, growling kittenishly, but still growling. Dan's right. This one is a little different.

After work, I call our nice feral cat expert. She says that this new kitten is probably terrified, and encourages us to wrap him in a "kitty burrito": meaning, take the kitten and wrap him swaddling-style in a towel or blanket. "You've got to force your affections on this one," she says. Dan and I take her advice, and get the new kitten out of the carrier with surprisingly minimal struggling and hissing. We wrap him in a beach towel, and stroke his ears.

"Do you hear that?" Dan asks.

He's purring already, swaddled in the towel on the porch tile.

The trap is set.

On 7/1/05, Daniel daniexxxxx@gmail.com wrote:

The trap is set. If we get Slinky before I leave I'll call SpayAustin and let you know. If not, keep an eye on it when you get home and if we don't catch her by sundown we should take in the trap (so we don't catch a raccoon or possum).

-d