10 Days Long

I've stopped leaping up at every unidentified voice now.  I oscillate between acceptance and hope.  Eventually I will possibly stop hoping and resign myself to acceptance, but so far, I keep hoping (pace Seneca).

Ratty was last seen, full of beans and energy, the morning before we returned to Exile.  My domestic assistant gave him and the other cats their breakfasts and then let them all out into the garden for an airing.  Apparently Ratty climbed a tree and skedaddled over the wall.  Indrani tells me that while we were away, he took off on adventures twice before, once for two days, but he always came home.

When I am feeling optimistic, I think Ratty is out on an extended bachelor jaunt, like he used to have before his accident in early October.  When I am feeling realistic? pessimistic?  I think he must have had a final 'neurological meltdown' and has gone off to die by himself, as cats do.  I worry that he may have been hit by a truck out on the big road, or he ate poison on the golf course, or he got swept up in a 'trap, neuter, return (somewhere else)' program. 

I've spoken to all the other cats on the street, including LG (his little sister) and none of them have told me news of Ratty.  I've looked in unoccupied gardens and through the fence, and I still call him from our garden.  I've spoken to the maids I see out walking their employers' dogs, and I listen to all the voices of the peacocks and children, hoping to hear Ratty.

If I find his body, then that is that.  I'll know he has gone.  And yes, I expect I will stop hoping to see him on my doorstep, but not yet.  I miss him.

LG is well and her fur has grown back.  Strangely enough, she is still feeding her kittens in a haphazard way, although they are nearly as big as she is.  They are devastatingly cute:

Soon it will be time to try to organise for more neutering and spaying as we have an abundance of gorgeous young cats on the compound.  They are flourishing because people feed them, which means they are healthy and will soon start breeding too.  In fact Seams' May brood are already big enough to be multiplying.

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LG

LG spent a few days at my friend's spa recuperating from her operation.  We had planned to keep her in protective custody until after her follow-up visit to the Vet on Wednesday afternoon.  However, in spite of all appearances to the contrary, she had been feeding her kittens - and by last night her mammaries were full of milk.

This morning, protesting even more than during her first inelegant plunge into the cat carrier, R and I brought her home.  We took her, in the carrier, to the wall of the golf course.  Her kittens were down in the sand, waiting for me to feed them.  At the sight of us, or the smell of their mother, they began to meow loudly.  LG was frantic to get out of the carrier to them.  We could barely unzip the front before she scrabbled her way free.

There was a touching reunion:

where kittens got milk and LG relief.  She washed them and kissed them, making a happy family.  R and I were also relieved and pleased, as we worried that she would spurn them, leaving them exposed and vulnerable to peacocks and wild cats. We were also relieved that the kittens survived without her for the 48 hours she was 'busy'.

It wasn't long before LG's attention wandered ...

and then  LG had had enough of the whole motherhood sentimental business.  She shrugged off the remaining kittens and climbed a tree to sharpen her (trimmed under anaesthetic) claws.  The kittens came back and finished the crunchies I had scattered for them.

We wondered if LG would ever trust us again.  She'd cast some pretty severe looks our way before she sauntered off into the trees.  (My friend R thought this might be because LG had hoped she'd no longer be out on the street and had passed some bizarre initiation rite.)

Less than two hours later I went out to buy some bread - and look who was on the doorstep, showing off her clipped ear:

The clipped ear tells any would-be cat catchers that she has been sterilised and can be left alone (we hope).  She has a significant shaved patch which will be chilly (it is quite cool for Exile-land presently), perhaps it will encourage her to snuggle up to her babies at night?

I am pleased it has all worked out so smoothly without any major dramas and that we are all still friends.  And I am grateful that my friend R was able to provide lifting and taxi services, along with the all-important recuperation suite.

Ratty is doing well although he is still a little gamy in the hind legs.  He more than makes up for any physical shortcomings by his devotion.

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Ratty & LG

I've written before about the lovely and unique relationship demonstrated between two street cats - Ratty and LG - who I've known and fed, cared for and loved, for about 15 months.

They are litter-mates and are always together.  Even when LG is seeing suitors, she makes time for Ratty. 

We've had more rain lately and it has been unseasonably cold.  This last week while Ratty has been ill,  LG has been camping on the doorstep, waiting for him to come out (or better still) for her chance to come in.  This morning she had her chance. 

LG - Marius refers to her as 'Not the Mother of the Year' - is famous for neglecting her kittens; when she is with them she ignores them (I know how she feels) and she seems to spend most of her time hanging around our house. When we give her food, she is reluctant to share (normal) and resistant to feeding them (not normal).  Her current litter has three surviving kittens, all desperately cute bundles of fuzz.  They must be three or four months old and able to fend for themselves outof necessity, although I think LG  was still feeding them in a haphazard fashion. 

LG is in  season again. At least she has been waving her bum under the nose of Black Tom in a fairly provocative way, so I presume if she isn't yet in season, she will be very soon.  She is tiny, always looks underfed and quite simply, another pregnancy would not do her any good.   At last count we had about 15 strays on the compound.  We do not need more kittens, please.  So, I arranged with a friend to help me catch LG and today we took her to the vet to have her spaying operation. 

I put one of Ratty's old bed pads (unsoiled of course, but deliciously Ratty-scented) in one of our cat carriers.  We let LG come in to the house with us where my friend R scooped her up and plunged her, struggling, into the waiting carrier.  She screamed and swore and threw herself around in the confined space.  Then Ratty strolled up and sat  next to her and spoke softly in cat-ese to her and she calmed down immediately.

R and I had a cup of tea and a quick piece of toast - it was 7 am - and then we took LG out to the car and drove the 40 minutes to the Vet.  She meowed once, softly, on the way.  Perhaps the Ratty scent made her feel more secure?  She is in the animal hospital now, coming out of her anaesthetic and we will trek over to pick her up in an hour or so.  My friend R has agreed to let LG stay with her in a spare room, for a day or two while her incision heals, and then she will be out on the street or my doorstep, once more.

As for Ratty, he is convalescing.  He can walk and run, wash himself, eat and do all the cat things except leap up onto a chair, and his purr has also returned.  He is curled up at my feet as I'm writing this.  We hope he will not have another neurological meltdown.  We hope the HDU is closed permanently, but we can't say, and neither can the Vet, whether he will have a further episode.

In January, another neighbour will help R take some more of the kittens to the government veterinary hospital where they have a free program of trap-neuter-return.  I was concerned if we waited until January LG would have become pregnant, and as that would make the spaying operation much more complex, I am afraid the government would simply euthanise her, rather than spay her.  Hence her trip today (for a fee!).  We don't know where the government vet is and we are relying on this other lady to direct us there, but she doesn't want to transport cats etc, until after she returns from her holidays. 

At least something is being done to help the strays.  Lots of people (well, half a dozen) are keen to feed the cute little kitties, which is lovely, but I believe there is a further responsibility to get them sterile if you want to feed them - helping them tomorrow as well as today. 

Marius is not impressed with me.  He says 'You can't save the world'  and 'Where is this going to stop?', both reasonable reactions I suppose.  When I sent him a message this morning telling him how smooth the catching and transporting adventure had been, he was very pleased.  See, he tries to be gruff and uncaring and sensible, but he is as much of a softie as I am.

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News Update from the Doyle Household

I finished my last scheduled IVIg cycle this morning so am, at least temporarily, released from the hospital horrors.  Five months ago when I began I was distressed beyond belief to be submitting myself to the local health system.  Not being a democracy, the Supreme Health guys control all the decisions and it was only through their hospital that I could get the life-saving treatment I needed.  No options unless I went abroad.  Now I've grown used to the chaos and lack of privacy (okay, maybe not that) and general alien-ness of the whole thing, and I've learnt a few more words of Arabic.  The nurses got used to me too, and were even apologetic yesterday when it took 7 goes to find a viable vein.  When I left this morning they said: drop by when you are here next time and say hello.  Sweet of them but highly unlikely that I will be anywhere near the place unless I have to be.

I say scheduled because although my doctor here thinks I'm finished, (I use the word 'thinks' with care) my Professor in London, who is the only one I trust, wants me to continue to have monthly 5-day cycles.  At this point I don't know if I will be able to have further cycles here, which would be much easier, or if I will have to travel to London for the treatment in future. 


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On an entirely different and happier note, even happier that is, I want to tell you about an incident last night with Seams and her kittens.

Seams is a protective and fierce mother.  She keeps her kittens under an iron paw.  They are still confined to the golf course side of the fence, away from stray people and dogs, but at the mercy of the peacocks.  Most evenings we go for a little walk with the intention of helping out in the nutrition of the babies and especially their mum.   Sometimes Seams is with the kittens, sometimes she is off hunting and when the kittens hear our voices they come charging through the trees and stop under the fence (a drop of about 2 metres from the road where we are) and look up at us and meow.  Pretty fast on the uptake they are.  But some evenings we don't see them, even though we patrol the length of the fence looking for them.

Last night after we got back from yet another farewell dinner, we saw Seams on our side of the fence and we gave her some dinner, but we couldn't spot the kittens.   Marius walked down to the end of the road away from where I was standing and Seams was eating.   When he was out of earshot, she came back to the fence and whistled (it was a cat call, but was just like a whistle) and I heard little voices reply, and then they all tumbled out of their hiding places and lined up under the fence waiting for food.  Seams went back to her eating and when Marius returned he threw handfuls of cat-crunchies over the fence for the kittens who performed a perfect scrum to get at them.

I thought the discipline of the kittens was extraordinary.  They would have heard our voices but didn't come out until Seams said it was clear, and then they responded immediately.

Later Seams followed us home for a further snack on our front porch.  I think the main reason she comes is for the bowl of water I leave out.  I do worry about her and the kittens getting enough to drink in this hot weather.   I haven't figured out how to lower water down to the kittens but presume Seams has the fluid balance worked out.


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'Seams' and her Brood(s)

A few weeks ago, I introduced you to Ratty:

Marius decided that 'Black Ears' wasn't personal enough so he re-named him Ratty

and I probably mentioned his pal, LG:

LG was Little Guy, until she went on heat and we realised that she was Little Girl

They always hang around together, walking with their tales intertwined and being remarkably affectionate to each other  (they are semi-feral cats, after all):

We used to feed them at the rubbish bins behind the, then defunct, cafe.  There was often another cat having a feed, but she was very wary of people, never let us pat her, and was always on the edge of the group, ready to tear off.  She ignored Ratty and LG, and their other friend Pirate (who disappeared before Christmas).  We named her 'Seams' because her tabby coat doesn't fit properly, and there are white stripes on her limbs, where the 'seams' don't meet.

A few months ago, Seams was pregnant, and huge.  She looked like a double-decker bus on its side.  She still managed to waddle around and jump, relatively gracefully.  Then she disappeared for a few days, presumably to give birth, and when we saw her again, she was much slimmer.  We tried to make sure we fed her if we saw her, as we suspected that she was nursing her kits, and we even went looking for her some nights.

Seams talking to Pink Floyd

the Matriarch

Life is fairly difficult for the feral cats and new-born kittens are particularly vulnerable as they are easy prey and often eaten by other cats (sorry, but true).  Seams must have had her babies well protected because FIVE have survived. 

We first saw them on the night of the lunar eclipse.  They haven't ventured into the compound yet; Seams keeps them in the golf course, away from the dogs being walked and the humans.

Seams doesn't care for the flash

We gave them some cat-crunchies that night, and again yesterday evening before it was dark.  Afterwards, looking at the photos we'd taken of the kittens, we thought how similar they were  to LG and Ratty, if a little fluffier, with one of them even looking like Pirate (who was fluffier than LG and Ratty):

relatives?

almost LG and Ratty in miniature

It would appear that LG and Ratty (and the missing Pirate - I don't need to explain his name, do I?) were from last year's litter, and were probably litter-mates as we had suspected.  How many of the new ones will survive this year is a moot point.  There are too many feral cats and soon someone will complain and they will be rounded up and 'dealt' with, I fear.  The golf course has taken more of the wilderness buffer away to extend the course facilities, reducing the space for the ferals to survive.

If we didn't feed them, they would probably move away - or die of starvation.  There are no mice or rodents around and not enough birds to keep them all alive either.  They do go through the garbage sometimes but only at the cafe, not individual house bins.   I can understand that plagues of cats are not good for the neighbourhood, yet we know that some of the strays are abandoned pets  (there is a beautiful Russian Blue that doesn't seem to have a home any more). 

If it was feasible, I would have all the females sterilised, and the males too - but if (a big if) I could catch them and get them sorted out, how would I then turn them out into the desert post-op?

Marius says to me 'you can't save the world' and he is right, I can't save all the cats either.  I worry that feeding them is only making the problem worse and prolonging their agony, but I am a weak thing too, and I can't bear to see them starving.


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