The Rest of the Story

So what happened to the five cats that were caught Tuesday night? What was wrong with the kitten?  Did they all have surgery and return to the colony?   Did they grow fat and friendly under the care of the kind couple who lived next door to their original caregiver?

In trapping, there isn't always a happy ending.

The last cat caught, a pretty little half-grown tortie tuxedo with medium length fur and a bushy tail, was found to have a condition called Feline Pododermatitis, also known as pillow foot.   The condition is very painful and impossible to treat in a feral cat, so she had to be put down.  

The kitten with the odd walk has both front feet curled inward and walks on the sides of them instead of the pads.  He is a beautifully marked dark tabby, and nervous but not entirely feral. An X-ray showed that his front ankles are dislocated. The vets were not sure if this is the result of an injury or a congenital defect.  (I vote for congenital defect; some years ago we took two kittens from the colony next door that had a similar malformation at the elbow rather than the ankle.) They advised that he would not have much chance of survival in a feral colony, but does not seem to be in pain and could probably have a good life if he can be tamed and placed for adoption.   

The other three cats...really two cats and a kitten...are all orange tabby males. The good news is that all four surviving cats are feluk negative.

Ca-r-ma designates cats and kittens as FE or CA. FE's are feral or homeless cats that are trapped with the intention of returning them to the colony. CAs are non-feral cats or kittens that we expect to place for adoption. Marlah is in charge of FEs while Kim is responsible for CAs. Occasionally the designations overlap, and this was one such case.  

All five cats were, of course, FEs, but Marlah and I agreed that I would take the tabby into care. I no longer foster for reasons that are likely to become clear as this blog progresses, but this was a special case.  I could not send the kitten back to the colony.  He can't run very fast and I doubt he can climb trees, so he would really be at risk there. 

Cathy and I picked up the four cats from the vet and headed out to the colony. It was dusk when we arrived but the elderly caregiver was in the yard sweeping out the back of his truck. He will need it to move the rest of his belongings to his new home. 

He was disappointed to see us because he thought we might find homes for the cats.  I explained that they are too wild to be adopted, although we will see how they behave over time. The caregiver himself can touch most of them, and now that they are altered some of them may become placid enough to place as barn cats or indoor/outdoor cats.   I told him what had happened to the little female. He nodded, but he is not sure how many cats he has and doesn't interact with them much any more so I don't know if he even remembered her.  

Cathy took the transfer cages out of the van and put them on the ground.  She removed the cover from the first one and I unlocked and lifted the door. The large orange cat, the only one that the caregiver seems to particularly recognize, shot out of the cage and headed for the woodpile.  The second cat followed suit as soon as he was released.  

Then Cathy uncovered the third cage. Cowering inside was a deep orange kitten about the same size as the handicapped tabby.  I opened the door, but the kitten didn't leave.  "I wish you could find it a home." said the caregiver.  "Aww." said my partner, "It's so little and cute, if I didn't already have fosters, I'd take it home."   I reached into the cage to see if the kitten would bolt past my hand, but it just shrunk back as far as it could and stared at me with bright yellow eyes.  "To heck with it ", I said, thinking that both Kim and Marlah are likely to pitch a fit, but one kitten or two, what's the difference?  I put the door back on the cage. 

So the two kittens are in our basement.  We named the tabby Archie after another dark tabby kitten that David saved, fostered and loved. We're going to call the orange one Hunter. In six years of fostering I've only returned two kittens to a colony because I was unable to tame them. Their names were Hunter and Lady Hawke. I failed them, and I am determined I will not fail this kitten.   Here are the first photos. You can see how Archie's foot is deformed and Hunter, like all cats destined to be returned to a colony, has a notch in his left ear to indicate that he has been neutered: