The Doyle Cat Hospital and Foundlings Home

Ratty is home.  I do not know whether I am merely postponing the inevitable, creating a rod for my own back, or, as I hope, giving him the best chance for recovery.  I am reminded of the episode in David Lean's film Lawrence of Arabia, where TEL goes back across the anvil desert to rescue the fellow who'd fallen asleep and off his camel during the crossing.  His comrades protested that 'It is written' and that Lawrence was going against the Almighty's will.  He brings the man back to the camp, but has to execute him (?I think, it is years since I saw it) later. 

Well, I hope I won't have to execute Ratty myself. 

We brought him home last night in the same box I'd taken him to the Vet's in on Monday morning.  All the resident cats had a sniff or two at the box, but no one growled or snarled or hissed.  Even Mr Territorial Army Macc didn't, although he came up to check on Ratty in the bedroom.

The people at the Vet's were terrific, especially the veterinarian nurse who'd cared for Ratty.  She was so pleased we were prepared to bring him home and give him some more time.  She gave us pads to put under him (he has no bladder control, poor boy), syringes to feed him with, and tins of 'recovery food' which we can pump into him.  They also gave me a discount on his hospital stay, because he is a stray, he gets 'strays rates'.  (They give discounted neutering and spaying rates for strays too.)

Ratty is not well.  He can move his head and can make little maows, he can purr and paddle his paws.  This morning he was licking my fingers, which I think is an improvement.  Unfortunately, he seems to have no vision beyond reacting to light.  His hearing is excellent and so is his sense of smell.  He is not in pain as far as we can judge and seems to be content.

I cannot predict the future.  Last night I said to Marius, I have no plan.  For once in my life I am really just taking things one step at a time.

I am amazed at how good the cats are to him.  When I came back from my morning walk I discovered that Wolfe had given him a little wash:  at least I assume that is where he got the tidy licks on his shoulders from.   He face and ears were a tiny bit damp when I stroked him too.  Sister Wolfe. 

For now, Ratty is safe and comfortable.  He is lying on a chair cushion and a couple of towels beside my feet.

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Ratty Redux

He still has 8 lives left - right?

There has been no change in his condition from last night but we have decided to bring him home and look after him here for a few days.  He can't eat himself but we have experience with 'force feeding' a sick cat before. 

We will give him a few more days and see if he picks up. 

When Marius comes home tonight we will trek out to the Vet (again) and retrieve the poor chap.

Thanks for keeping all the paws, whiskers, toes etc crossed and please send healing powers his way.  I will post some photos of his progress in due course.

Ratty & LG

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Tragicatale

I was hoping to give us all a break from the feline world.  I am sure that if you read 'Living in Exile' you do not want to read stories about cats, exclusively.  I even posted the story about our upcoming Thanksgiving dinner in an  attempt to signal my stepping back.

On Sunday night I took some interesting cultural photos thinking, these would be good on the blog, and not a cat to be seen.  But the best laid plans of mice ...  and there's a destiny that shapes our ends rough ...

I have a sorry tale to tell.  On Monday morning, my neighbour's maid knocked on my door to say that my big cat was lying in their garden and he couldn't move.  My first thought was that Macc had jumped off the balcony wall and was lying with a broken back.  I was relieved the little body, splayed out almost face down has not Macc's, but I was very sad to see Ratty.

He was conscious and raised his head to me, but his paws were lying like bits of poultry waiting for the fryer.  I immediately thought he had been hit by a car and had his back broken.  I am not a medical person but I am logical:  he could move his tail and one of his hind legs, so I concluded not a spinal injury.

A friend acted as cat-lifter and ambulance driver and we took him to our Vet.  This is a street cat who had never been in a box, a car, or a Vet's, but he coped really well (maybe the injury?).  The vet checked him out and eventually concluded he had head trauma, no broken bones.  He's had some blood tests, poison has been ruled out, and he has been in the Vet Hospital for 36 hours on a drip.

Sadly, there has been no improvement.  In a few minutes Marius and I will drive over and say goodbye, and the vet will euthanise him, unless we think he has improved enough to keep him under observation for another 24 hours.  It is not likely.

I am very sorry.  There are cats who are family, cats who are acquaintances and cats who are friends.  Ratty was a friend.  A good brother to Little Guy, loved going for walks with us and hanging around the pool together. 

We will miss his siren yeowl.

Ratty, Compound Cat

NEWS FLASH!  We're just home from the Vet's.  Ratty is kicking his legs and 'swimming'.  He recognised us and maowed when I spoke to him.  Marius gave him a big cuddle and he had lots of pats and encouraging words.

On the advice of the vet, we are giving him another 24 hours to see if he picks up any more.  Paws crossed please.
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Peacock Thanksgiving

image from canflag.com

It is Thanksgiving next weekend (the real one) and we have a tradition here of having a 'harvest festival' meal with some of our Canadian friends.  We will celebrate on Friday evening instead of Monday (no long weekend and for us the middle of the week), which gives us the day to cook and for Marius to recover from the working week.  And Saturday for everybody to recover from Friday night before going back to work on Sunday.



I have found a turkey, which must be a relief to the peacocks, as I am sure I could adapt a recipe for cooking swan to cooking peacock, and we have plenty of the birds to hand:

The turkey is squatting in the bottom of the fridge, thawing and taking up far too much room.  I will make my famous wild rice stuffing, and spiced red cabbage.  Marius will be in charge of the roast potatoes and veggies and will be standing by to help with the bird-lifting.

Our friends will bring the starter and the dessert - since Janet, the pumpkin pie chef, moved to Hong Kong last year - and we will all eat and drink far too much.

It is like a dry run for Christmas and an excuse to eat things we normally deny ourselves (mostly through laziness). 


I am sure they are giving thanks:

There are lovely displays of ENORMOUS pumpkins in some of the supermarkets, ready for making jack o' lanterns.  They are exorbitantly expensive - about a week's groceries for a small family of ten or so - and having been flown in especially, I am sure they have equally impressive carbon footprints.  Which does make an interesting image, don't you think?  I have a couple of ceramic pumpkins which I will prepare for the festivities.

Ah!  I need a name for the turkey.  Suggestions welcome.

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The Continuing Adventures of Miss Beowulf (aka Wolfe)

On Thursday afternoon Marius came home on an earlier bus from the site and we took Beowulf to our Vet.

She hated being put in the carrier - really went mad with gymnastics and then heart-rending howls - but she settled down when Marius out the bag on my lap and I spoke to her.  I ended up telling her a long tale about her own adventures - to keep talking and because I get bored saying 'it's okay Wolfe, you're alright'.  It's the quiet voice they need, not the words.

We were worried how she would cope sitting on the floor of the Vet's, waiting for our appointment with all the smells and dogs and cats and people.  She sat quietly and didn't cry.

When we took her in, we first asked the Vet to scan her and see if she had a microchip.  She didn't.  The Vet said there is no national data base  - they have one and possibly other vets have their animals recorded - so her previous owners most likely didn't think to have her chipped.  I was disappointed:  I'd hoped we would have found out something about her, even if we were unable to re-unite her with her previous family.

The Vet pronounced her healthy - no ear mites, no fleas, no signs of disease - and vaccinated her and gave her a couple of worming tablets.  She (the Vet) confirmed Wolfe is a female, as I had suspected.  And agreed that she had most likely been spayed as we hadn't noticed her going into heat.  She is estimated to be between eighteen months and two years old.

The Vet was surprised she was so healthy for a cat who had been on the street since April. And then we came up with a theory about her.

Wolfe has a notch out of the top of her right ear.  This is a universal (well, global) sign that a cat has been TNR (trapped, neutered and returned).  It is possible that she got swept up in a trapping program, spayed, notched and then returned to somewhere else.  Apparently the officials here are not too careful about who they trap or whether they are returned to the same place.

If this had happened, it would explain why Wolfe freaked out in the carrier initially - she may have thought she was going to be dumped somewhere else, again.  It would also explain why such a fine cat was ear-notched and why she was homeless.

The vet also said she thought Wolfe is a cross-breed, at least, if not a full Norwegian Forest Cat.  She might have some British Blue in her.  Wolfe's face is more pointed than the pictures we've seen of the British Blue.  And she does have an amazing purr.

We kept her in on Thursday evening as we were concerned she might head for the hills after her vet-experience.  She went out yesterday a couple of times and is currently lying across the entrance to the kitchen.

Last night she sat next to us on the lounge while Macc sat on the other seat - in sight of each other, not growling, and relaxing.  We are making progress.

As for the future - we are in limbo.  All our cats will be travelling with us if we move.
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An after thought:  when I wanted to take the cat to the vet, I rang up on Wednesday afternoon, my call was answered straight away (this doesn't always happen, sometimes the line is engaged), I had a nice chat with the receptionist about Beowulf being new to the family, and I was able to make an appointment for the following evening.  What a contrast to last week when I was trying to get in to see a GP for my wounds!

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