Catpaws Cafe

Random musings from my virtual fountain pen

Archive for the tag “life with cats”

What next?

What next?

I can’t sleep, so I get up and go to my office corner. Look around, as if what paper I write this on, and which pen I use will make the slightest difference. Because putting words down on paper makes it more real? Final?

What next?

What do I do now?
Fortified with drinks, the one he swore he wouldn’t, he finally talked last night. Not the conversation you want to have after midnight or even 3am.
I’ve been living with a stranger for some time, but the scale of it finally became clear. The duplicity is staggering. The audacity as well. I. Am. Shocked.
I’ve been a fool, but only because I thought the situation would turn around and improve. I didn’t want to give up. Over the years I thought at some point my love, kindness, and flexibility would “pay off”. Turns out people just take what they can.

When I found out there was no “us”, just before C19 hit, I didn’t know what to do. I still don’t, and damn if I haven’t spent every day and parts of nights when I should have been sleeping searching for a way forward. While at the same time wondering who will survive or if I will become just another statistic.

What next?

I’m here because I have nowhere else to go, and no way of getting there.
I’ve kept us fed and housed out of savings, being frugal and thrifty. Funds are dwindling.
Being forced to spend these months confined at home together have been, at best, awkward.
It never ends with a bang, and this time not even with a whimper.

Last night I finally got to see the belly of the iceberg below the surface. I am angry, but only enough to say, That’s. It. Enough.
There will be no happy ending. No team. No together. I won’t have have your back and you won’t have mine.

What next?

I gave up everything to move here. I truly thought it was forever, not until.
I got nothing of what I had hoped for, but I got the cats.

Two cats I adore that have kept me going. Both former strays who are afraid of people. Milou has been with me since 2011, and Tabita moved in 2015. I can’t imagine them being indoors only, they love going outside. Neither has ever worn a collar or been chipped. The only time Milou has been to the vet was to get fixed. I have no papers about vax, etc. Both cats are pictures of health.
I can’t imagine wrestling harnesses on and dragging them through noisy airports full of strangers, carrying them through scanners, be poked and prodded. I’ve never carried Milou. They are both terrified of thunder. Yowled the entire way in the carrier when we moved house. Milou kept throwing herself at the door repeatedly trying to get out and cut her nose; then refused to come out for hours, scared and raging mad.
Still the sweetest, most protective, being I’ve ever met. Freaked out the time I had to take Tabi to go have her eye looked at (it wasn’t an infection, it was stress induced). They have kept me alive.

What next?

Is there anyone out there who can help a broken person help themselves?
I am open to new possibilities and opportunities to present themselves.

What next?

 

Milou and Tabita watching the rain. Wondering what next.

Red’ed, Rojito update

Red is doing very well, he’s got his appetite back (and then some!) but he is still very skinny. I guess putting some meat back on the bones needs to happen slowly rather than fat.IMG_20160420_171125

He’s such a writer’s cat: he sleeps when I work and only ever interrupts if I’m late with their dinner.

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Being greeted with his sweet little face (and Milou and Tabita) in the morning reminds me that every day together is a bonus, a gift of allowing us to love them.

Rojito, our miracle cat

Red

Tabi and Rojito, a few months ago.

This is our Miracle cat, Red’ed or Rojito, meaning little red in spanish.

Red and Blondi were left behind when their family moved away. For approx. six months living the indoor life, the next fending for themselves on the street.

Little by little they began to trust us, and found our kitchen a safe place to sleep, hang out, and get a little food. Blondi was the shyer or the two: never wanting to be touched but happy to play with Tabita. Needless to say, they’ve been my saving grace being stuck in the house providing me entertainment and company.
Then about a month ago Blondi was gone and and a week later Red disappeared too. And most cats in the ‘hood, a neighbourhood dominated by cats. We were left coming to terms with not expecting to see either of them again.

Sweet Blondi

This is Blondi, Red’s brother, a month before he disappeared.  Gentle, shy and a picture of health.  How anyone can consider such beautiful beings vermin and kill them is beyond comprehension.

Thus I was overjoyed to see Red come through the door but it quickly turned to heartbreak seeing his condition. He can only be described as a skeleton with fur. He was weak but he’d come to us for help. Make no mistake, we are his furever home for as long as he wants it to be.

So why didn’t I rush him to a vet? It was Sunday evening. I got one leg in a cast and need help to get out – but who and where? My husband have been working for four weeks without a day off. The language barrier were I to go on my own in taxi etc. And of course lack of money. Red did not appear to be in any acute pain, though I know cats have a very high pain tolerance level. I don’t know where he’d been or come from or how he’d made it back. He was very weak and coughing blood. Frankly, we didn’t think he’d make it through the night and didn’t want to break his trust by putting him in a box, in a taxi, to spend it in a steel cage surrounded by fear and strangers. If he was going to make it he’d pull through, and if he didn’t, he would die at home surrounded by love and friends. He picked his spot – my floor cushion by the back door – opposite the bedroom.

I sponge bathe him when too weak to groom, scratched when it looks like he’s got an itch. Fed him scraped fish mixed with water every two hours and whatever else he’d eat. Sometimes a teaspoon, sometimes a tablespoon. One day at a time.

The basics; Red is approximately a year and a half. Now if someone told me he was 15 I’d believe it. That is how much he has aged in the week he was missing thanx to human cruelty. He eats very little but he eats. He drinks. Goes to the sandbox. He coughs but he’s stopped coughing blood. From a healthy and well muscled young male to an affectionate ghost of his former self.  I can only presume that the newest cat-hating neighbour followed up on his threat to put out food laced with rat poison “to get rid of the kittens” he called vermin.

Red is such a little fighter. He’s come so far. I’d like to take him to a vet still to be checked over and get whatever extras he needs to help recover his health. Without it there’s no knowing what internal damage has been done. He finally started grooming again last night so after two weeks of round the clock watching and worry, I’m beginning to relax a little.

I used to say If you can’t afford to take your charges to the vet, don’t have any. But my vulnerable heart can not turn away a cat in need at my door. I can not close the door and say go away you are not my responsibility. I will do what little I can to help, and right now it isn’t a lot. Clean any wounds, put vegetable oil on ticks and a bit of kibble, and always have clean water available outside for any passing cat or dog.

We struggled to find the money to feed us all at times but somehow we do, we find a way. Now there’s only three left and I desperately want to find somewhere else that is safer for the cats and move. I feed them and keep them in at night because that is all I can do.

I wish I was in a financial situation where I could do more. I wish I had the money to donate to every free clinic there is and sponsor opening ones where there aren’t any. I wish I had the language skills to enthuse locals about trap- spay or neuter – release. I wish I had the energy to volunteer endlessly. I wish I had a car to pick up and bring those who need help to make it to a vet clinic.

Most of all I wish I lived in a world where respect for all life was the norm and sick care and health care was free and available to all everywhere.

If I put this on my fb page I’ll have to deal with “How dare you ask for money and help again – you should be ashamed of yourself” so no gofundme. If you want to help, please help. If you don’t, then don’t. I understand and I won’t judge you. The cats will be very grateful if you do. If you can and want to help go to the top of the page to “Other ways to connect” and then click on Miaowser’s fund. It will take you to paypal. And like the Tesco add says, every little helps.  On behalf of Red and us, thank you for reading.

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Red, now, back for two weeks.

Life after Miaowser

Been drinking a lot of tea recently, the English soother of all ails.  Only it does not seem to do much.  I’m not coping very well with losing my best friend.  It could be the horrific circumstances that like a tape-loop keeps rerunning endlessly whenever I’m not actively engaged in other things.

It is not at the times when we feel the most lonely we miss someone the most and that we cry; it’s when we feel them near, their presence, their love.  I learnt that last year.

One of the times when I sat outside with said mug, diluting it’s contents with my tears, looking at the flowerbed where Miaowser used to hide and play, and where she now rests beneath the same blooms, I had the idea of writing an ebook.  I felt her spirit nearby and the title “Love is all that matters” appeared in my mind.  So that’s what I’ll try to do.  I’ll make it free to download for anyone who has ever loved and felt lost and left behind by their loved ones departure.  I’ll add a donate button at the end, then people can make a donation to Miaowsers Fund if they feel so inclined.
The book won’t be ready in a hurry.  I’m far too churned up and raw a mess for that.  Word by word, page by page.  Maybe that will exorcise the terrors of her last hour with us.

So I asked her, – what would you like to help fund, Kitkit?  Veterinary care for those who can’t afford it?  Food for feeding strays?  Homes for all cats?
– I’d like a fund to look after you.  Came the quiet answer.
Oh. my.  That was so unexpected I knew it was true.  Oh Miaowser, I cried.  I miss you so much.  A fresh wave of tears flooded my eyes and I was enveloped in the love behind that statement.
– Of course I am here!  Do you remember back in 1998 after Solveig died; hearing her say “I can help you more from where I am now than I ever could incarnate”, or words to that effect?  It’s a bit like that.  I have to go now, but at the same time I am always with you.
– I know Kitkit, I know.

After Miao departed I’ve had bloodcurdling nightmares when I can sleep at all.
I don’t want to be sad forever.  I don’t want to be depressed.  I don’t want the nightmares to continue indefinitely.  These are not judgements, they are preferences.
I know out of our love a different connection that defies time and space will be forged, and in a different way we will meet again in the dreamtime.  But I’m not there yet.  The grief is still raw as can be and often overwhelming.

Understanding might be overrated but personally I have found that I can accept almost anything If I understand why.  I would like to see someone Miao loved, to help me understand and move forward once more.  When she heard her voice she’d almost dance around the kitchen looking so radiant and excited.

Thus I’ve tentatively taken the steps to set it up.  If you go to “Other ways to connect” you’ll see newly added “Miaowsers Fund” and a donate button that will take you to paypal if you click on it.

There IS life after Miaowser.  I just have to find my way there.

Milou and the flowers

Milou and the flowers

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