Muses

Shadow

A fave candid of us. He loved to ride on our shoulders.

This is Shadow. We adopted Shadow and his brother, Lynx when they were only one month old. Shadow weighed one pound and Lynx was only ¾ of a pound! It was my absolute dream to have “Siamese” cats and I quickly learned how easy it was to adopt cats with this “look” without having to buy and contribute to the homeless cat crisis.

Shadow was the love of my life (sorry, Jake, but he totally understands!) This cat was amazing, and we were very bonded. I loved how he would sit on my left hip and suckle on my ear lobe. He was like an infant and would ask to be picked up. His favorite toy was a lightweight jingly ball. He would bat them around everywhere and would carry them and call. He would leave them in my purse and in my shoes, so cute!

When they were wee

Squee, OMG!

They were naughty little tots (which we enjoyed)!

Q-tips and plastic milk jug rings were a hit with these two trouble makers as was toilet paper and "foraging" in the kitchen cabinets which quickly earned them child safety locks. These were the early years, before food puzzle toys.

His lanky teenage stage!

It is difficult to talk about those who were so special to you, it can be hard to summarize their life in a just a few paragraphs. I used to joke that I couldn’t have loved him more if I gave birth to him myself, now I feel that way about Hitch, but I suppose it is ok to share that feeling with others.

Shadow left us at only 14 years, not even close to long enough. He and his brother both were diabetic and hyperthyroid. They both also later developed liver disease, IBD and pancreatitis (otherwise known as “triaditis”). They acquired these diseases in a different order, but they had all the same genetic issues. The benefit of adopting related cats is they are instant friends for life and have a playmate in each other, the downside is the host of medical issues and losing them close together.

From our professional photo shoot. So glad he was still with us for this special day.

Always adopt littermates, keep family together, this is how cats thrive.

We used to call him Shadow Dancin’ after that 70’s song, which later morphed into “Deathwish Dancin’” because he did a lot of daredevil things and often injured himself! All of our pets have a ridiculous number of nicknames so far removed from their original name it only makes sense to us! We miss this boy so much, but it feels good to look back on who we have called family and all they have taught us.

We are the lucky ones.

Our first stroller. These two really enjoyed strollin'.

HIs signature. He could not get enogh of the left hip.

Jake tells me he was looking at me, "blowing bubble hearts" in this pic.

Look at those tootsies!

With all my heart.

Mercury

Complete with catnip froggy on his head.

First week home, 9 months old!

Mercury and Festus were brothers. It is always advised to adopt related cats and keep feline families together. This helps to ensure harmony and a bond. Re, as we often called him (or Re Re) was the more bold of the pair and I distinctly remember him playing with the strings on my backpack in the adoption room where we met.

Mercury was also the most insulted when I decided I was going to save the world, one cat at a time, and continue to grow our feline and canine family. Mercury was the very first cat in my personal life that started spraying! He even sprayed me once while I was sitting on the couch in my scrubs, needless to say I started changing immediately after arriving home after that. Behavior slowly became my focus, but initially it was so that I could better understand my own household.

Enjoying the nip. Mercury was a violent drunk on the nip.

Mercury very slowly became paralyzed his last year of life. We never got an official diagnosis but we managed his care and he became our SECOND paralyzed cat at the time requiring bladder expression as well as defecating help. These were the only two cats that never got to forage. I learned about that just after losing them. It’s sad the regrets one has of those who came earlier, before I knew as much as I do know, hoping I gave them a good enough life.

We love and miss you boys.

A youthful, barely year old, Re.

He often laid with his legs stretched out like this and dangling off the cat condos.

A two-headed tabby monster.

Always together. Bonded pairs are ideal to adopt.

Multiple cats enjoying the first version of our "treehouse".

Our Mercury.

Festus

The first week we brought them home.

Meet Festus! Festus and his brother Mercury were our very first pair of cats! They were named after two Scandinavian story book characters. I distinctly recall one of the books was titled, “Festus and Mercury Catch a Pickled Herring”!

They were a pair of black and grey classic tabby cats with white, otherwise known as "bullseye tabbies" (there are 3 different tabby patterns). This means that they had the circular tabby swirl on their sides that resembles a bullseye.

Complete with eye booger I was not permitted to pick!

Oh, the classic sunflower throw from the 90's.

Festus being squished by Shadow, Lynx & Mercury.

Lynx and Festus cuddle train.

I always loved this picture, he was such a little gentleman.

The last photo ever taken of him. A pleasant surprise upon developing the film.

I adopted them from a local cat clinic, which later became my first vet tech job and where I got my start with all things cats! Festus was the shyer of the two, but these boys chose me when I entered the adoption room. I recall them chewing on my backpack tassels. They were nine months old when we brought them home, they had been looked over for adoption many times because they were timid and sadly, Festus was also the very first cat we lost. He left us at the age of only 9 years. He was a funny little man and when he vocalized he sounded like he was gargling. It was hilarious! We called him our “gargly-spitty friend”. He also had a very silly and googly face and eyes which always made us giggle. The photos featured here were of the 35mm kind! You’ll see the caption under the one that was developed after he had passed, what a wonderful surprise that was to open. And so the heartbreak began only 9 short years after starting our family.

All four of our 1st boys in "loaf" position.

Always together. Bonded pairs are ideal to adopt.

Grandparents came to visit!

Lefty

The story of Lefty’s injuries, strife, rescue, and life after tragedy is no more unique or special than the stories of so many other cats you have heard about. In fact, his is an all too common tale. But Lefty was special to me, to us, to this family. He helped shape me into the person I am today and contributed to all that I have done for cats since meeting him, so to me, his is a special tale worth sharing.

I was two months and three days into my dream job as a vet tech at a cat-only veterinary practice when Lefty showed up. The place was no stranger to hardships, throwaways, and lost souls. As someone who immersed myself in horrific animal suffering for most of my teenage life, I was surprised that any of it phased me. But reading about the horrors of factory farming in a book is different than living the horrors every day. Seeing the broken and unwanted come through our doors, day after day, truly makes you question humanity and your role in it.

One of our clients worked in real estate and knew the doctor who owned the clinic. She came in on a hot Thursday afternoon in July, looking a bit frantic. While she was showing a house, she had noticed a cat in the ditch out front. The animal, who had presumably been hit by a car, was injured. He had a broken leg and couldn’t walk. As the client tried to approach the hurt cat, a neighbor came out and said, “Oh yeah, he has been there for about two weeks. We’ve been feeding him.”

“They’ve been feeding him?!” I thought. WTF?

All tucked into bed.

Even the handicapped can be naughty!

The owner of the practice dropped everything and went into rescue mode. When these situations came up, it was like there was a phone booth in her office where she could change into her superhero cape. It was one of her most redeeming qualities. She was a nightmare to work for, but when it came to animals, she did the right thing. With towels, a net, and euthanasia solution, she and the real estate agent left.

“What a shitty way to die,” I thought. “Smacked by a car, left to rot in a ditch where people brought food but did nothing else to help, then caught in a net and euthanized after surviving so much.” He was likely feral, which meant he had no experience with humans. His injuries and likely infection were far beyond repair. It was the right thing to do. But I hated it. I hated it.

When they got back to the clinic, it was late. Almost everyone had gone, but I stayed. They rushed into the surgery prep area along with the other doctor on staff. I am not sure what prompted her to try to save this little guy — other than that she tried to save every animal. I think the fact that she was able to get him with towels and her hands without using the net contributed to his being saved instead of euthanized. He was in terrible shape. Regardless, when she unwrapped the towel, I was in love!

Lefty, Simon, Soren and Hitch!

Lefty, blepping before blepping was cool.

Lefty rocked the "side blep" no teeth so...

Blepping with his friends!

When I first saw him — oh, the smell! There was quite an odor. The cat’s left foot was as flat and round as a dollar pancake or coaster, just squished. His whole leg was pulverized. We took x-rays. The x-ray showed completely shattered, pulverized bone. The finest surgeon with all of the pins and screws in the world would not have been able to fix that leg.

Some might call what happened next appreciation, and that might have been part of it. It might also have been shock, fear, or delirium. I don’t really care what we call it, but that freaking cat purred and head-butted through the rads, through the blood draw, through the oral deworming medication. At that point, we were making room on the schedule for an amputation and setting up a cage for him. Euthanizing, we were not!

I turned to the practice owner and said, “Thank you. This is what I have always wanted to do. This is why I wanted to work here.”

Her reply: “What do you want to name him?”

“Lefty!” I said, without hesitation. We were about to amputate his left leg, so I found some humor in the name, and so did everyone else. Anyone who spends their days dealing with despair and tragedy will tell you how important humor is. So Lefty it was!

He was scheduled for surgery Monday morning. It seems terrible to think he had to live through the weekend with that leg, but honestly, Lefty taught me the first of many lessons on how unphased animals can be by their injuries — and also the magic of Buprenorphine. He spent the weekend as high as a kite on pain meds while we focused on getting some good nutrition in him and the fleas off of him. It was after all, July in Georgia, and we love our parasites down here.

Lefty’s left leg amputation went off without a hitch. Another lesson I learned from Lefty (there were many) was that animals could not care less when you lop off a limb. Usually, the limb is causing them pain and impeding their movement, so they’re happy to get rid of it. They do not have to live with the societal stigmas that humans do, so they don’t care if they look funny and they don’t worry about being laughed at or made fun of. They just live. I also learned that for cats, three legs are all they need. The fourth leg is extra.

Forty-five minutes after waking up from anesthesia, that cat bolted right past me as I was trying to put food, water, and litter into his cage. He tore around the treatment room. Now, many years into the profession, I know that was not a huge deal, but to green olé me — just two months into the job — this cat was truly amazing. And he was. He was Lefty after all!

In the months that followed, I took it upon myself to truly socialize him and make him like people so he could become adoptable. He was sweet, but the more we got to know him, the more we saw how skittish and unsocialized he really was. (Little did I know that once I took on such a task, I could certainly never adopt him out.)

A very blurry photo of Lefty post op.

At the clinic together.

No stranger to car rides and vet visits!

I spent much of my days working with Lefty in a pouch strapped to my chest — a cat papoose. Lunch was a special time for us. Because I worked such a long day, I got a two-hour lunch break. I would go into the surgical room where Lefty liked to spend his days and sleep with him on a comforter on the floor. We cuddled and “socialized.” He would smash the side of his face, which he couldn’t groom because of his missing leg, into my chin to scratch his gooey, runny eye (also the result of being hit by a car). It was so gross and so awesome and I loved it so much.

Lefty was fast as a whip. Once he became more outgoing, we allowed him to have free run of the place. I loved the sound of his run as he flew around the clinic: a fast badump, badump, badump. He annoyed the x-ray service guy by “helping” to fill the chemicals. Fittingly, he always found the “L” marker and batted it around, never the “R.” I’ll admit that I snagged that “L” when I left the job. We had two… who was going to care? Lefty needed it for his scrapbook! It’s funny that after all of his injuries, he spent so much of his time in the surgery and x-ray rooms.

Lefty & Vader, matching solid black tripods!

Lefty cuddling with Wick, he had a lot of friends!

I met Lefty in July 1999 and by December, he was home with me for Christmas. He was a solid black domestic shorthair tripod. People are not exactly beating down doors to adopt cats like Leftypants. Besides, I had a really hard time saving and rehabilitating animals and then adopting them out to what I learned was one irresponsible pet owner after another. For cats I got attached to or had a hand in helping, I decided that no one else was good enough to raise them. When I started the job in May 1999, I had five cats. The addition of Lefty in December 1999 made 14 (if I am remembering correctly). Saving the world, one cat at a time. That still hasn’t changed.

I did everything wrong when I brought him home. I was so excited, and he was so easygoing, I thought, “What the hell?” and just opened the carrier door. Off he went, straight to the squishiest, most comfy thing in the room: the couch. He jumped right up on it and stayed there for years to come. He deserved a sofa and bed. They all do. I couldn’t let him live life in the clinic with all of its hard surfaces. He needed the comforts of a home.

Hanging out with brother, Vader. #handicapables

Pile O Cats! Lefty had friends!

He was a tripod but he still enjoyed vertical space, climbing the treehouse, running around the cat runs in the ceiling of the screen porch. He got along with all of the other cats and dogs; he was kind of like Switzerland in that way. He foraged and truly embraced his new home. You could feel his appreciation and gratitude. He and I were always very close. We had a thing, from day one.

So how did he end up being called “Leftypants”? Shortly before he came along, I had adopted Mammas and her four kittens, including one little tortie who we named Wiccas. When Wiccas was tiny, she had a little flame of tortie-ness up her nose (that’s how she got her name… “wick” like a candle) and was mostly black with some little tortie pants, so we called her “tortie pants.” When I met Lefty, the “pants” part just stuck and the nickname was born. I would scream it all over the practice and later the house and Lefty would come running. Later, he would simply be referred to as “Pants.”

One of the things I most love to share about Pants is how much he LOVED being vacuumed and blow-dried. Being a front-leg amputee can get a little messy; sometimes, especially as an old man, he would face plant in the litter box. Whether he’d done that or not, he got bathed about twice a year for his whole life because he just needed the help. He hated the bath but loved the blow dry. He would purr and purr and stretch out his little legs and spread his toes. It was so cute! He loved being vacuumed even better than being blow dried because he didn’t have to endure the bath beforehand. You could vacuum any part of Lefty, even his chin, head, and ears. He couldn’t get enough, and in his younger years, he would literally chase me from room to room as I vacuumed.

Leftypants enjoying being blown dry after a bath.

Appreciative jowl rub!

All clean!

It was probably a good thing that he ended up being the pet of a vet tech. He was a bit of a mess. He had eosinophilic granulomas under his tongue that resulted in multiple biopsies and the removal of a portion of his tongue. He had hideous Stomatitis and ended up having all of his teeth extracted by age 11. (In hindsight, I should have done that even sooner.) He had a peculiar year-long fungal infection that caused a hole to blow open in the side of his neck. Dye studies, cytology, and three biopsies left us treating the fungal infection for three months before the wound finally closed. We fixed him yet again.

Then came his senior years. I did my very best to help make sure old age didn’t slow him down, but that’s when I learned that the fourth leg is not extra. When a cat is really old, it’s very helpful if they have all of their limbs.

The open hole on the side of his neck that took over a year to close.

Strollers provide great enrichment for seniors & handicapped cats!

Soaking up sun on old joints.

I started preventative care early. By age eight, he was getting glucosamine and chondroitin supplements followed by Omega 3s. I later added antioxidants and acupuncture. Further down the road, we added injectable glucosamine, steroids, and pain meds. He had kidney disease and heart disease, but we managed it all.

Lefty was still foraging for his own dry food until just a few months before he left us. We built ramps to give him the independence to get onto the sofas and furniture on his own. We created a sidewalk of bathmats through our house during his last year of life to make it easier for him to navigate the hardwood floors. We brought him handfuls of food 100 times a day, knowing that foraging alone was not enough. He never liked canned food. We hydrated and bathed him (he still loved that blow dryer) and tried to help him maintain as much dignity as possible, all while still holding on because it did not seem like he was ready to go. He would tell us. A few times, I thought he was trying to leave us, but he would rally and bounce back, so we kept maintaining. I truly thought I would just have to call it one day, that the time would come when I was not able to watch him struggle any longer, that I would just have to let him go eventually. While we kept him clean and fed and as pain-free as possible, it hurt to watch him struggle, but he was so persistent. He tried so hard, how could I take that away?

So content to just check out the big world outside.

One day, I left town for an obligation. If I had thought he would not have made it until I came back, I would never have gone. Anyone who knows me, knows that. I thought he was going to keep hanging on until I decided for both of us. All of his most recent rechecks had shown nothing but stability or improvement, so I left feeling confident that I would see him again. I didn’t even say goodbye. It was more of a “see you later, Pants!” Then my worst nightmare came true. The cat I had had the longest to date, the one who had been with me from the time he was nine months old until he was 17 years old left me, and I wasn’t there to see him off, to say goodbye, or to help ease him away. Instead, I was miles away on a trip that I will forever regret. I cannot go back, but I will always wonder how things might have been different.

I will always remember his little toothless, gummy scream when we brought him handfuls of kibble. The way he would inch toward us reaching for us until we got down to his level because he didn’t have the oomph to actually get up. The way he only liked to play with the stick part of the Feline Flyer and could not care less about the toy itself. He was a funny cat who gave us so many memories.

Lefty was one of the toughest cats I have ever known, so broken yet so resilient. He is why I do what I do, why I strive so hard, why I always try… because you just never know. You have to give these animals a chance because their ability to heal, overcome, forgive, and trust is beyond remarkable.

Do, do, do, do… PANTS! You will always be my little super hero, with your cape flying behind you, buddy.

Vader’s Story: The Tale of Our Little Jedi Hero

Vader was an ordinary domestic short hair black cat. He was one of 4 kittens in his litter and we decided to keep the whole family including his mother, Asia. At the age of six he had started showing some asthmatic type symptoms and was brought into the vet for a chest x-ray. He did have asthma but the radiographs also showed an incidental finding, a mass on his right shoulder blade, a hemangiosarcoma. Vader had to have his right leg amputated if there was any hope for him to survive. We already had one 3-legged black cat so why not a matching set? He recovered from this surgery just fine. I have always said that for cats, four legs are extra! They do so amazingly well being handicapable, as I like to call it.

Young & healthy with all of his legs.

Lush and robust before cancer.

L to R: Wiccas, Vader and Mammas.

The surgical experience was quite traumatic. We attempted amputation at clinic where I was working but we did not have cautery back then. The tumor bled, a lot. He had to be closed back up, temporarily and transferred to my favorite surgical hero and have the complete amputation the next day. What an ordeal for him. He was painful and scared but thankfully, once he was awake from anesthesia, I was able to administer a nice cocktail to keep him comfortable. It is different when you are removing a source of pain as with Lefty’s amputation, but Vader didn’t know anything was wrong with him. He felt fine and then suddenly someone was trying to remove his leg. It was hard for all of us to say the least.

Post amputation, Vades.

A few years later our home caught fire and we were not home, but all of our animals were trapped in the house. Vader spent most of his days upstairs where the fire started. A window unit air conditioner had shorted out and up went the drapes, the bed linens, etc. Mostly, we had a lot of soot damage from all of the synthetic fibers going up in smoke. By the time I had arrived home the fire had already been snuffed out, but how? According to the local fire department Vader saved our home and our entire family!

Out of fear I’m sure, Vader went into the master bath and hid behind the door. In doing so he accidentally closed the door, locking himself in the upstairs bathroom, the place in the house with the worst smoke damage. The fire department informed us that the air vent in the bathroom was aiding in fueling the fire with oxygen and you could see the streaks of clean white ceiling rushing directly into the vent with soot marked ceiling all around it. I found Vader gagging for air on the floor of the bathroom near the tub. The blackness came off on my hands when I touched him. According to the fire department, had Vader not closed that door, we would no longer have our home. You can see his desperate attempts to escape in this photo. Vader’s one front paw print under the doorknob and streak marks of a panicked cat's attempts to survive dragging down the door. Our home was covered with soot laden and frantic, dog and cat paw prints all over, but none as sad as Vader’s.

Notice how black the wall is to the left & the scratch marks all over the door.

In the oxygen cage at Paws Whiskers and Claws.

I am coupaging Vader's chest to help loosen the gunk in his lungs.

All of our animals were immediately taken to Paws Whiskers and Claws, our vet hospital, to be bathed and examined. Amazingly, Vader was the only one who suffered medical complications from the fire. His asthma was severely affected by the smoke inhalation and he spent 5 days in an oxygen tank. He continually coughed up the equivalent of black rubber bands. We made him an oxygen mask so he could come home. When he needed it he would get up from wherever he was and slip his head inside the contraption that we devised and we would turn on the oxygen for him. When he had recovered from his coughing fit he would simply leave. It was absolutely amazing!

Would you look at this boy! Professional photo shoot fo a very special little man!

Vader to the left and in foreground.

When they were wee tots!

An excellent mother & she made gorgeous babies.

Adopting related cats is one of the single best things you can do. Keep littermates together, keep a mom and two kittens. We are doing cats a disservice by breaking up families. If you would like a harmonious multi-cat household, adopt a family of cats, you won't be sorry! As you can see, from birth until their senior years, they were all always together! It really makes all the difference.

Vader and Simon towards the end of Vader's life.

Mother and son.

One of the last photos ever taken of them all together.

Chillin' w/ Lefty, our matching amputees missing their opposite front legs!!

The sisaled scratch box/step Jake made just for Vader!

Vader continued to have ongoing medical problems, some because he was a senior cat and he was aging but others were a direct result of the house fire. He would cough so hard he would pee his pants. His favorite place to sleep was our bed. There was no way in hell I was going to deny this cat the chance to sleep on our bed, no way, but changing the sheets daily sucked too. Little known fact about me, I LOATHE changing the sheets. It is my least favorite household chore and I have always loved to clean! So, every morning when we got up, I would make the bed (which I do not do!) and place a shower curtain liner over the bed. Then, I would lay a machine washable fleece throw over the bed and BOOM, Vader had carte blanche bed access all day. Some nights we even slept with the shower curtain. He saved our house from burning to the ground and killing our entire family, we would do whatever necessary!

Shower curtain liner & throw on our bed. He was content & that's what mattered.

Always together. I implore you to adopt related cats!

His special accomodations to allow for easy clean up.

Hanging with brother, Simon.

In his last year of life we think he developed some neurologic issues. He exhibited strange behaviors and was hyperreactive to certain sounds like metal on metal. There was no “event” he just became quite “blank” and had a significantly decreased quality of life so we felt we had to say good-bye. He was the first of the family to leave us, he made it to 15 years old despite it all.

Cuddling with his mommy towards the end.

Supervised yard exploration as an old codger.

So, as it turns out, Vader was not just an ordinary black cat after all, but rather an extraordinary one. We have him to thank that our house was still standing that night, and that all of our dogs and cats were alive. Black cats are bad luck? I think not. In Vader’s case, the force is clearly with him.

We are forever grateful, Baby Vades. We love you.

Strollers are great for senior cat enrichment.

No caption is really needed, look at that handsome muzzle!

Muses

When they were wee

Always adopt littermates, keep family together, this is how cats thrive.

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