Cat Number 4!

While volunteering at the shelter I became attached to many cats – Thumper, Lulu, Kiera, Forest, Abby, Hubble, Kennett, Sam, Sassy, Howie, Tulip, Hunter, Wassha, Kit Kat, Penelope, Blonde, Buffy, Ted, River, Milo, Lucky, Missy, Chico, Buttercup, Swift, Max, Nicholas, Ringo, Linus, Cutie, Spike, Rosebud …to name a few :-).

   

I was obsessed with finding them homes.  I spent 6-8 hours, 7 days a week volunteering – taking photos, creating videos and writing bios for Petfinder, making and hanging posters around town and giving the cats attention, enrichment and love. I neglected my husband and my own cats. I brought home upper respiratory infections.  I cried a lot. But the adoption rate went from an average of 24 cats a month to over 90!

Two year old Lulu was one of those cats, she came with her special purple blanket – her owners relinquished her because she tortured their 18 year old cat.

In the first few weeks, she scratched/bit two potential adopters and was placed in quarantine per New Hampshire State law. While there, she viciously attacked seven shelter workers (jumping on their back with full claws extended whenever anyone tried to touch her litter pan). They began letting her out of her cage in the back office and then would capture the terrified creature with a net at the end of the day; I was mortified that an animal could be treated that way. She instilled fear in everyone, except me.

Lulu loved me.  She would play forever and then allow me to pet her as she “pawed” her purple blanket, I then could pick her up and place her in her cage. She would yowl when I left for the day.

I (a volunteer) “made a rule” that only I could touch her litter pan, the employees clearly had no “cat training”.  Lulu was misunderstood.  She hated animal smells.  Google, terms her condition “fear aggression”.  After a few months, the “no-kill” shelter determined that she would be euthanized for this aggression. I was heartbroken.  I tried everything to find her a family.

Finally I “adopted” her, to save her life, knowing she wouldn’t adjust in a home with other animals.  For five long weeks I kept her in a spare bedroom splitting my time between her and my Devons. She escaped once and literally almost killed Rascal.

I brought her to the vet because she had stopped pooping. They gave the poor thing an enima.  When I arrived to pick her up, they told me that they had never seen such a wild crazed cat.  They recommended Prosaic.

I had to find her a home. I created a video to help – 

A Facebook friend offered to take Lulu if she got along with dogs.  The shelter knew she had lived with a dog, but couldn’t comment on the relationship.  I broke into their customer database and found the former owner’s contact information,  I called and inquired if Lulu could live with a dog.  The man who answered the phone began to cry.  He missed Lulu.  He regretted bringing her to the shelter. His older cat had passed away. He begged me to bring her back. I drove an hour to bring her home – she leapt from her cage into his arms. Relief.

Another to whom I became attached was Forest, Forest was dropped off with his brother Mufasa “Mu”. Their human mom was hysterically crying when she left them. She had recently gained custody of her 10 month old grandson and the doctor indicated the young boy’s illness, for which he had been in and out of the hospital, was cat related. She was heartbroken.

Mu and Forest were taken to the local pet store near our sister shelter in Manchester shortly after arrival. Mu was adopted by a nice family. Forest was returned to our shelter a few months later, as the muscles in his hind legs were beginning to atrophy.

Forest was a basket case. He was a senior cat, with a heart murmur; he pulled hair out of his hind quarters, with his teeth, leaving a big bald spot and chewed his paws until they bled.  He had a “hair fettish” – If you got too close, he would attempt to chew your hair usually instead biting your head. But he was an attention seeking love.  He would jump on your back if you were bent over cleaning and just “hang out”; he didn’t like to be held, but adored belly rubs and “spankings” on his hind quarters.

He reminded me of my childhood cat Tiger!

Initially Forest ignored the other cats in the “cat room”, but during one of my visits, he attacked another passive male.  Luckily, none of the shelter employees witnessed his aggression, but I feared that like Lulu, he would go on the “kill” list if he was seen as aggressive, especially given his age and medical needs.

I began “selling” him when potential adopters visited. Lots of people fell in love with Forest, he would run to anyone who entered the room, seeking attention – but no one wanted him – he was an older cat, with potentially expensive medical issues.

Because I was at the shelter so often, my husband John would swing by so that we could see each other (sad but true).  The first, second and third time hubby visited the cat room, eight year old Forest ran across the room meowing and jumped on his lap seeking love. One morning, John woke and said, “I can’t stop thinking about Forest being stuck at the shelter – that cat loves me – we need to save him!” I loved Forest – I didn’t tell my husband that he jumped on everyone who visited, I let John believe that he was special.

I tried to take my time introducing him to my other three cats, but Jackson knew that Forest was in the spare bedroom and spent hours outside the door hoping for a glimpse.  I finally allowed him in.  It was love at first sight.  Forest groomed Jackson for hours each day. Jackson was ecstatic to have a friend.

The love lasted just 3 weeks.  One day, out of the blue, during a licking session, Forest nipped Jacks.  Jackson squealed, ran and was suddenly terrified of Forest.  They began viciously fighting 10-15 times a day. Forest would innocently walk too close, Jackson would become terrified, squeal and (as Jackson Galaxy puts it) “act like prey” and run, feel corned when Forest chased him, and attack.  Jackson was no match for Forest – Forest is a tough guy and outweighs Jacks by four or five pounds.

But, they would eat with their bowls touching, sniffing each other’s butt as I prepared their food.  They would, on occasion, sleep together. Forest was fine with the other cats.  Every morning when he gets too close to baby Daisy’s “feeding area”, she whacks him in the head and he immediately retreats.   Neither seemed to realize she is half his size. He’s never laid a paw on her.

I tried everything to bring Forest and Jackson together using ideas from Jackson Galaxy and other Internet cat advisers.  I left queries on the About.com cat message boards with hopes that someone could help.

Besides his other quirky behaviors, Forest howled to be fed every morning at 3AM.  None of us were sleeping!

He continued to pull his hair out and gnaw on his paws  – I took him to my local vet, then the larger veterinary office in nearby Maine and finally consulted a specialist in Southern New Hampshire who worked with us and another local vet.  All I learned was that his heart murmur wasn’t an issue at present.  In the long run it might shave a few years off of his 20 year life expectancy. None of them could help with the pulling/chewing or behavioral issues.

In desperation, I booked an appointment at Angel Medical in Boston.

We first visited the dermatologist.  Within a few seconds, Forest was diagnosed with a household allergy (perhaps something like dust mites) and was prescribed Atopica.  His behavior was likely a reaction to always being itchy, the Atopica (a $70/monthly prescription), dulls the itch and works in about 50% of cats. It worked!  Within a few weeks, he stopped biting and pulling.  His hair grew back thick and full, wounds healed and he gained a few pounds. His liver is tested every six months to be sure there are no ill effects.  Two years later, we have weaned his dosage by 50%, and his medical results continue to be excellent!

    

Next stop was the behaviorist (for a mere $400).  It was quite traumatic.  She required attendance of all four cats so she could see them interact. She left us in the waiting room for over an hour because she was behind schedule – all were stressed.  Jackson, always the “fraidy cat” did not disappoint.  When I took him out of his cage, he ran to the only available open cage – Forest’s.   He squirmed over Forest’s head and huddled behind him shaking in the small cage, completely oblivious of Forest’s existence and instead terrified of  the behaviorist. It was clear that she didn’t believe that these two cats couldn’t get along and alluded that my lack of cat knowledge was the likely problem.

She offered a list of suggestions and eyed me skeptically when I stated that I had already tried every one of them, and more.  Yes, I had used a dish towel to rub them with the other’s scent, separated them for weeks and reintroduced them slowly, gave Forest extra playtime in the hopes to tire him out…. etc., etc.

She finally agreed to drugs.  Prosaic for Forest to put him in “la la land” for a period and Bupropion for  Jackson to build his confidence while Forest was in “la la land”.  It worked, the fighting stopped!  As a bonus, the 3AM howling stopped. But, poor Forest just sat on the couch staring into space, as if he had had a lobotomy.

After a few months, we cut back on Forest’s dosage – instead of one full pill a day, he gets 1/2 a pill every other day, just to take the edge off.

On rare occasions, the boys still fight, perhaps twice a month.  The other cats run to Jackson’s rescue when there is an altercation.  Little Daisy will jump on Forest’s back to stop the madness. Rascal will chase Forest away, hissing and meowing at him giving Jackson time to run to his cage or under the couch. I’ve never seen anything like it!

Soon after we adopted Forest, I found his original family on Facebook (the shelter had forgotten to black out their names on the adoption paperwork).  I wrote, letting them know that he found a good home.

They responded, ecstatic; we invited them to dinner. As soon as Forest heard their voices he bounded to the front door like a dog and jumped in their arms.  That cat was so happy. But when they left, he sat by the front door for two days….waiting.  My heart broke for him.  How could we do this to him, maybe visitation wasn’t a good idea.

But we tried it again and again. By the third visit, Forest seemed to understand that they were just visiting.  Three years later, they still visit, we’ve become good friends.  They shared kitten photos of Forest – he is the product of two California street cats; Forest and two of his siblings (Mu and a sister who passed away) drove cross country with them at about 10 months of age – Forest howled for 3,000 miles.  To this day he despises car rides.

Turns out his former dad gets up for work at 3AM daily – that is when Forest was fed – hence the 3AM howling!

They nicknamed him buttttaaaa-man (that’s Boston speak for butterman) because their daughter deemed him “sweet as butter”. We learned that Forest had fathered a litter of kittens and the mom wasn’t a very good mother.  Forest decided he would take on a “mothering role” and spent hours laying with them, grooming them and attempting to feed them!

Oh yeah, and he LOVES catnip! As discovered when I accidentally left a package on the counter….

I no longer volunteer at the shelter (It was just too heartbreaking and taking too much time from my own herd) but I am grateful that the experience brought us our crazy little guy; we love him, and are happy to have him as part of our family!