This is another interlude of sorts as has a tendency to happen when life keeps you busy, I haven’t had much time to sit and compose the stories and ruminations of the other strays that have come and gone over the years quite yet. But there have been some developments on the home front in the last month and a half, as two of the final three of our gang have now made their way inside the house.
It started back in early March as things continued on pretty much as normal with Scruff and Patch coming and going, while Oreo maintained residence under the sun room. He seemed to start getting a little more aggressive, however, and we noticed him watching the front of the house on a regular basis, and on occasion giving Scruff and Patch the run off. As we were also trying to avoid another flea infestation, we stopped letting him come into the sunroom, even during the bad weather days, much to his dismay. I kind of think it fueled his ambition to go after Scruff and Patch, as well as a couple of the other stragglers who still showed up every now and again. He must have thought that we would let him in just to keep him from running off everyone else. But unfortunately it was not to be – quite yet.
By this time, with Cookie gone, and both Patch and Oreo having visible health issues, I thought it was time to see if we couldn’t get them taken care of. I had ordered a trap on line with the intention of capturing Scruff, since he still kept his distance. There was also the need to try to rid ourselves of the wandering wildlife that would come looking for the food as well, plus the hope that we could still catch Catlyn, the former neighbors lost cat. So I started putting it out the week around March 7th. The first victim turned out to be another Tuxedo cat we had never seen before, and already having too many now as it was, I let the poor guy (or gal) go, and it ran off, without showing hide nor hair since. The raccoons were a bit smarter though, and found out they could grab the food off the plate from the back of the trap. So the next day I moved it away from the edge of the porch so they couldn’t reach it without going in – or so I thought. They simple grabbed it from the sides while on the porch.
A couple days later, during the early morning on the 7th, as I was going through my normal work routine, Scruff and Patch made their appearance for breakfast. At that point, it seemed they weren’t hanging around together as much as they had in the past. We would frequently see one or the other on an almost daily basis, but not so much both at the same time. Of course I didn’t give it much more thought than that. I left the bowl out for them to chow down and headed off to work. Scruff seemed a little leary with the trap on the porch, but I hadn’t yet gotten ready to bring him in, so kept the food in its usual spot on the other side, away from the trap. Unfortunately, I seemed to have delayed one morning too long. That was the last time we saw Scruff.
Patch kept showing up a couple days here and there, sometimes in the morning, sometimes in the afternoon or evening for dinner for about a week afterwards. But during that week, he quickly started looking worse for the wear. It looked like he lost a lot of weight, and didn’t look much bigger than Cookie at that point, and it seemed his fur had changed as well, his distinctive tabby stripes had faded. He felt a lot more thin and frail when I had the opportunity to pet him. At that point, I was trying to figure out the best way to get him in the house, as I didn’t think he would bother with the trap, having already been trapped twice before – once when he was TNRed, and the second time during the previous summer or fall when we were attempting to catch Catlyn before the neighbors moved out. But he saved me the trouble. I forget which day it was now, exactly – somewhere from the 15th to the 17th. It may have been that Sunday I was off, but it doesn’t matter much now. Anyway, in the morning, we heard a bang outside, and I knew it was the trap going off. So I got up to see what we had caught this time, and it turned out it was Patch. So I carried him in the trap right to the sunroom and let the poor guy out. He didn’t make a sound while in the trap, and barely moved. It just seemed like he knew it he needed help, and was ready to come in. The look on his face was one that cried “Rescue me now, please.” So at least we had Patchy.
Now it was time to turn to Oreo. Early this year, I had talked to one of the people who set up and runs their own cat rescue, and that Sunday, she just happened to inquire about the cats that were outside, and gave me the number of one of her volunteers that lived not too far from us. So we gave him a call, and he came over to the house to take a look at Oreo, primarily to make sure he was ear tipped. After confirming that, he noticed how badly Oreo’s fur had become matted on his back, and took some video to show to the rescue’s leader. They decided the best thing to do would be to take him to one of the regional rescue’s shelters and have him taken care of with shots and a shave. So it was time to bring the big boy back into the sunroom.
First we needed to move Patch upstairs, to keep him separated from the other cats since we still didn’t know what was wrong with him, and he hadn’t been vaccinated in all this time. Then it was just a matter of opening the sunroom door and letting Oreo stroll right in. That was the easy part. The hard part was going to be getting him into the carrier so that the volunteer could get him to the shelter on Friday morning. Yup, trying to wrangle a defensive feral cat is not an easy task. Oh, did I mention I am also on blood thinners from my heart attack from a year ago? Well, I got myself all dressed up in my long sleeve shirt and pullover, put on some thick gardening gloves, and enlisted the help of Erin with the wrangling. Then it came down to trying to corner Oreo to a point where I could scruff him and get him right into the carrier. Thinking back, it probably would have made the job much easier if we had emptied the room of the furniture first. But, at any rate, after about five minutes of chasing and coaxing, I finally cornered him behind one of the chairs in a position where I could latch on to the back of his neck. My first attempt missed the mark and resulted in him latching onto my hand with his mouth, but once he let go, I was able to get a hold of his scruff, and lift the big boy into the carrier. I was just thankful that he wasn’t too big to fit. So we called the volunteer and he collected our big boy to stay overnight at his house before heading to the shelter the next morning. I would head there after work to pick him up and get him back home.
So after work, I made the half hour trek to the converted warehouse, and picked up our 17 pound barrel roll. He got his shots, got his shave, and got some flea and worm medicine to boot. We headed on home, and kept him in the sunroom to recovery from the anesthesia, and to monitor for any side effects. He hasn’t left since.
Thus far, both Patch and Oreo have been doing well. Tux has been none to happy, though, and has gone after Oreo a couple of times, so we have had to keep them separated. Patch has been spending his time in the spare bedroom upstairs, where it has been quiet and peaceful for him. He seems to be doing better, but it still thin in terms of body and fur. Unfortunately, it’s going to have to be a case of getting him to one of the rescues so he can get a good home. That’s the one positive, as long as he ends up being healthy, is that he looks to turn out to be another Tiger – heck he even enjoys belly rubs too! I just have to bring myself to make that phone call and hope there is room for him.
Oreo is a different story. He still doesn’t have the disposition yet to be adoptable, so he’s going to be with us for a while. Hopefully we can get Tux to accept the situation and have them co-exist. Right now, Oreo is the one intimidated by the rest of the clan, so he tends to spend his time between the quiet of the basement and the relaxation of the sunroom. We did catch him on the couch once, when we had Tuxy locked away. The good and surprising news is that I am able to pet Oreo on occasion now, so he seems to have forgiven me for the most part for the trauma of being shoved into a carrier. Usually, it’s during feeding time, which is par for the course I suppose, but at least it’s some progress made. I still can’t help but to think of poor Scruff though. As much as we have been able to do these last four years, it still wasn’t quite a job complete. I’m hoping that he shows back up one day so we can get the last guy taken care of and into a home, even if it won’t be ours. But I’m afraid that our luck with the gang thus far has finally run out. I’m sorry I ran out of time to save you Scruff. If the worst has happened, hopefully you have made your way across the rainbow bridge to find Gandalf, Tigger, Willy, Flash, Shadow, Cookie, and Marley waiting to greet you. I miss you all.
