Tales of the Feral Cats: The Sky is Crying

It’s pouring down rain at the moment I am writing this. And by pouring, I mean a torrential downpour with some very gusty wind. The only thing missing are the flashes of lightning and cracks of thunder. It’s rained through most of the night, washing away the wintery blanket of snow that blew in only a few days ago. Such is the weather here in the Northeast US. Below freezing one day, Spring temperatures the next. It also seems quite fitting for today – the rain washing away the pleasure and joy a nice snow can bring. Today is the closing on my lifelong childhood home, and this week is the week we find that Oreo only has short while left with our family. My mother passed away on Mother’s Day this year (holidays seem to be a curse to us, both human and animal). It was both a blessing and soul wrenching. It closed a 5 year chapter on our lives. Dad passed from COVID in 2020 (he went in the hospital right before Easter), and Mom had to go in a week later. She recovered, but he did not. But I don’t think she really recovered emotionally. These last five years brought along a lot of health issues for her, which were only exacerbated by her dementia, which only got progressively worse. So it was a small relief when she passed, knowing that her suffering was over. But today we close the book on that part of our lives forever as the home I and my siblings grew up in over the course of 50 odd years will pass on to another family in which for them to make new memories. It’s been an emotional roller coaster for many months.

This week, the train of that coaster has derailed. Monday morning started like any other. As daylight began to break, our feral crew began their usual ministrations to let us know that breakfast was overdue. So the routine began. I got out of bed, and began the ritual feeding. But this time, I noticed that Oreo wasn’t quite his normal self. He seemed a little unsteady on his hind legs, and wobbled every so often while walking, like he was losing his balance. I thought maybe he was a little stiff from sleeping, or perhaps he had been hurt from a scrap he had with Tux a day or two beforehand. As the morning progressed, it was clear that something wasn’t quite right, as he continued to show issues with his hind quarters, even though he seemed fine in every other regard. But life called and I had to head out to work. I put Oreo in our bedroom so we wouldn’t have to worry about anyone going after him, or he hurting himself trying to get up and down the stairs in the house. I let our eldest know to watch out for him and let me know how he acts when it came time for dinner. When dinner rolled around, it was clear that he was not getting any better, and looked to be worse, as he was dragging one of his legs as he wobbled to the food bowl. So I called our Vet to try to get an appointment for him in the next couple of days. The nurse indicated that he should most likely go to urgent care as soon as possible. It took me a moment to process that because, in the back of my mind, that’s what I had already feared. At that point, my thoughts were going towards a neurological problem that might be the result of an infection, because of his FIV.

At that point, I called my wife to let her know, and asked if she could get him to the hospital and get the process going until I could get there after work. Unfortunately, Oreo had hidden himself out of reach under our bed and neither my wife nor eldest could coax him out and get him into the carrier. I told them to give him a lickable treat with a capsule of Gabapentin, which we use for Hershey’s FHS and aggression towards Midnight, and that I would just get him after work. So the remaining hours crawled by until I could close up shop and get home. Fortunately, by that time the medicine had kicked in, and Oreo had positioned himself within easy reach under the bed. I scooped him up and headed off to the emergency room.

Luckily enough, one of the people I work with also works at the hospital, so she got Oreo in and prepped for the doctor as soon as I was able to get there. Not that it mattered as I was the only one there for admittance at that hour of the night. So the waiting game began. I don’t even know how long I was waiting at that point. Time just seemed to blend altogether until the ward doctor brought me in the room to discuss the results of her examination and blood work.

Due to his symptoms, and his current heart condition with FIV on top, she suspected a blood clot had blocked off a portion of the main artery that went to his hind legs. He was also slightly anemic and one kidney level was elevated. She suggested a transfer to another hospital who had a Cardiologist who was available to see him immediately. Unfortunately, theirs was not available for a couple of days. So she started making some phone calls. About an hour went by before she returned and let me know that the only place that she could get a hold of that had a Cardiologist ready was over 40 minutes away in the big ole city. Considering that I had to be back to work in a few hours by that time, and I had no desire to head into the city that night, and Oreo had stabilized at that point and wasn’t critical. We decided that the best course of action was just to keep him overnight and see if somewhere closer had a Cardiologist available for the next day. So home I went, and after a restless few hours, went back to work, awaiting an update from the doctor.

I got the call later in the morning, letting me know that Oreo was still doing OK, but the result of additional tests came back more worrying. So the decision was made to take Oreo to another critical care facility, still forty-odd minutes away, but one much easier to get to that was not in the city. They would make the arrangements for the transfer and get him ready for me to pick him up and head to the next hospital. It was heart wrenching to see the Mini Bear – bandage on his front leg where they left the catheter in for the next Hospital, and a cone around his head to prevent him from attempting to take it off. For the next 40 odd minutes, I drove in silence, not even feeling the mood for my usual accompanying Christmas music in the car. It was just Oreo’s plaintive meows as he obviously was frightened and could not understand why this was happening to him.

We arrived to the next hospital and began the check-in process. The receptionist couldn’t find the transfer order, so started a new intake process. To their credit, a nurse came out to check on Oreo as soon as they were aware that he had arrived and noticed that he was in distress and took him back immediately to begin treatment. The receptionist found the transfer order with the notes from the previous hospital, so at that point it was just a waiting game to see what the next set of results would be.

 

Of course, things can’t ever be simple for us. That day was going to be a busy day for me, even without the emergency. I had a virtual appointment with a Nutritionist in a hour, and then we had our youngest’s dressage riding lesson, which had already been rescheduled to that day because of another appointment my wife and I had the following day which wouldn’t allow us time to get back for her regularly scheduled lesson. So while waiting in the busy lobby of the hospital, I was trying to calculate the exact times I would need to leave in order to make it back home in time, and decide whether I could take the virtual appointment on my phone while on the road. As the minutes ticked by, I realized that taking the appointment in the car would not be practical, so I called to reschedule, but of course was going to get hit with a late cancellation fee, regardless. That problem solved, it was only a matter of timing – and rush hour traffic – to determine whether we would make horse lessons on time or not.

I think I had been there for about an hour when I was called back into a room to discuss Oreo’s situation. They had him stabilized and he was doing well, but they had a lot of emergency calls that they were still dealing with, so couldn’t do much more testing at that point. So we discussed his condition and the report from the previous hospital and came up with a game plan for further testing. At that point, we were still leaning towards a blood clot, and considered having an echocardiogram performed in the morning, but they wanted to try an ultrasound of his stomach first, since that wouldn’t require anesthesia. Since his condition also hinted at something going on with his spine, we considered perhaps doing an MRI as well, but that would come after the echo and additional bloodwork. They would give me a call around 10 the next morning to discuss the results.

At that point, it was time to head home. Naturally, once the GPS was fired up, rush hour traffic was well underway, and the main route home was hampered by some idiot who decided to have a bit of an accident some 10 miles down the road, causing a nearly 20 minute jam. I clearly was not going to be home in time for the riding lessons at the appointed time. So after a couple of text’s I arranged to have the lessons pushed back an hour and hit the highway. I attempted to soothe myself with my holiday tracks, but it couldn’t assuage my thoughts, or the tears that came on the drive home. I fervently hoped that a blood clot was all it would be, but my gut told me otherwise.  In any event I arrived home literally at the very minute we had to leave in order to get to riding lessons at the newly appointed time. I noted that there is very little rest for the weary.

I managed to get a little more sleep that night, and awoke the next morning to begin our usual feeding routine, minus one. Fortunately, there was no work for me that day, but it was going to be a full day of running around, nonetheless. Our youngest has a music recital at school that morning, afterwards I had to take care of making phone calls and doing paperwork for the house closing. I called the hospital to let them know I would not be able to take any calls until Noon. We also had that appointment coming up in the afternoon, which was a 45 minute drive in the opposite direction I had to take to the hospital. The day really just turned into one big blur of time and movement. I remember the doctor calling while I was downstairs on the computer checking e-mail and that’s when we got the news.

The results of the ultrasound found a mass in his small intestine, with some fluid forming around his stomach as well. Both kidneys showed signs of being affected at that point. Without anything more invasive, and his having FIV, the doctor felt pretty certain that it was Lymphoma that had potentially spread to his spine as well, which is what caused the onset of the weakness in his hind quarters. At that point we had three options:

1.       The most aggressive and invasive route of surgery and chemo. But the results would hardly be in his favor nor guaranteed because of his heart condition.

2.       Keep him comfortable with medication and pain relief as a hospice patient at home

3.       Euthanasia

I thanked the doctor for the information and told him we would discuss and get back to him as soon as possible. None of those were the three options I wanted or needed, but they were the only three we had based on his condition. I called back after an hour and the flow of tears had ended to let the nurse know that we would take him home with medication and work with our vet to see what we could do for him in the time he had left. At that point, my wife and I had to head out to our appointment.

The nurse called back to give me the details and let me know that they were going to prep him for discharge. I let him know that I would be there to pick him up later that evening, after we wrapped up our appointment. We got back to the house around dinner time. Thankfully our eldest has taken an interest in cooking, so she got dinner started, but it wouldn’t be ready until long after we would have to leave to get Oreo at the appointed time. I had a salad, and got in the car to get our mini bear from the hospital and bring him home to peace and comfort after his 48 hour ordeal. It felt like a week by that point. At least it was late enough by then that rush hour traffic was pretty much done with, and it was only a matter of them finishing the discharge procedures and we were on our way home.

While I was gone, the family got the spare bedroom ready for him, so Oreo could have a safe place to spend his final days, or weeks, without having to worry about being terrorized by Tux, or us having to worry about him going up and down the stairs in the house. He’s been a brave boy so far and he’s going to get love and spoilings for as long as he shows us he can.

This morning was the start of the second full day of him being home with us, and the skies opened up overnight and have just continued to pour down. I stared out of the bedroom window watching the wind and rain batter the screen and glass as Oreo lay up against my leg and arm, purring away as if nothing was wrong. I would have to get up in a few minutes to get ready to head to the lawyer’s office to sign the final paperwork for the house closing. My heart and tears matched the tempest that was occurring outside of the house. It felt as if Mother Nature was matching the storm I felt inside of myself. The sky was crying as much as my heart and soul were at that moment.

Tales of the Feral Cats: Falling for Ferals

It’s quite amazing how quickly time can get away from you. It’s been nearly a year since we last revisited our Tales. I had originally planned to at least provide one update this past spring for the Wooden Anniversary of the Ferals coming into our lives, but life had other plans. What an interesting five years it has been to say the least. It certainly has been filled with both happiness and sorrow, this year in particular, as we had to say good-bye to Mom for the last time in May. It was both a heartbreak and a blessing as her health and mental acuity had been declining since we lost Dad to COVID five years ago. So much of this year has been spent on dealing with the family issues both before and afterwards. However, I didn’t want the year to go by without at least posting something about what has been the rock in this storm of a half decade. It’s really because of them, the Ferals, that we can continue to function at all without feeling such despair too often.

Not much has changed out on the street. We still haven’t seen any regular sign of the other colonies or loners out there. Every once in a while, we’ll glimpse a feral heading down the neighbor’s driveway, but the sightings haven’t been as plentiful as they were a couple of years ago. With no regular sightings over the winter, we unfortunately have had to stop putting food out for whoever may come by as the other wildlife are usually the one’s to partake, especially the raccoons as is still quite evident from the neighbor’s trash that gets scattered in our backyard as they make fast with the goods through the hole under the fence. We can at least take comfort that there are more than a handful of others in the area that still have food and shelter for the colonies that are just beyond the reach of the raccoon territory. I’ve checked with the local shelters and rescue groups in the area as well for signs of Scruff and Catlyn, but unfortunately, no luck. So it looks like we will be left with just the five, plus good ole Hershey.

Speaking of which, the lone girl of the group is hanging in strong, even also being the eldest at around 12 years now. She’s still in pretty good health now, but unfortunately had a few incidents in the recent months of her going Psycho kittie and trying to murder everyone else in the house – particularly Midnight and Tux. It’s seems to be some redirected aggression as it has happened when she gets a whiff of a particular scent from my shoes or clothing after being outside. Most likely it is the scents of the wildlife or the occasional feral who has wandered through the property. We’ve had to keep her isolated for a few days each time and have increased her dose of Gabapentin (used to treat her Feline Hyperesthesia Syndrome). We’ve also been using Feliway in the living room and sunroom since the beginning of the year – primarily to continue to help Patch settle in, but it seems to have at least a bit of a calming effect overall on the rest of the crew as well. Every little thing helps!

 

 

As for the rest of the troop, Tux and Midnight still continue their wrestling matches – most often when Midnight has the “hangries” before feeding time. We did a Chonk Scale measuring of the gang on Twitter earlier this year, but will have to update it at this point. Oreo is no longer the biggest of the group – that honor being taken over by Tiger, with Midnight not far behind. Even Patch has gotten himself quite the belly going now. In the mean time, Tux still remains the Fine Boi, and Oreo really has trimmed down and looks about the size he was before he moved in under the sunroom back in ’22 or ’23 was it now? Oreo, Patch, and Hershey has their check-ups earlier in the year, and Tux, Midnight, and Tiger have theirs coming up later this month.

Overall, we’ve been pretty lucky with them health-wise. Patch especially, after his dental surgery has recovered nicely, and slowly but surely has been getting more relaxed and comfortable in the house. He has even let every other member of the family pet him, so his trust is beginning to build. Maybe one day, he’ll end up a lap cat like Tux, Tiger, and Oreo. Speaking of which, not only has Oreo shown the biggest improvement in terms of weight, but he has gone from a complete “don’t come near me” cat to a needy lap baby, much to Tux’s chagrin. The two of them still are the pair that do not get along at all, but aside from one possible confrontation that left Oreo’s hindquarters torn up pretty bad in the Spring, we’ve gotten them to the point where they just avoid one another, and at least tolerate each other when in the same space. Oreo has even managed to make himself at home on the bed during the overnight hours, so it’s a good thing we inherited my sister’s larger bed from Mom’s house this year.

The feral with the biggest health issue we have now is Oreo. Aside from his mauling which took a few weeks to recover from, we have found out that he is the lone cat of the group to be FIV positive, and also has a heart and blood pressure condition on top of that, which requires medication. So both “mini bear” and I get to take our heart meds twice a day! Unfortunately, his mouth is in the same condition that Patch’s was last year, so we will have to get that problem addressed this coming year now that we have his other issues under control. It’s really a good thing that he decided to move under the sunroom, and eventually come into the house, otherwise might he not have made it outside another year. Even the vet said his name should be Lucky because we were able to get him taken care of before things progressed too far. Fortunately for us, I made the wise choice to get pet insurance for Oreo prior to taking him to the vet for his first check-up, so that has helped with some of his expenses. We’ve learned our lesson from Patch.

We’ll have the rest of the gang on policies as well just to cover our bases at this point. Like I said, we’ve been lucky ourselves that they’ve mostly have had good health for being outside cats. But they are getting older now, and have crossed over that line into being senior kitties, and we know Tiger in particular will be needing regular dental cleanings, so the insurance will at least be paying for itself in the long run. As we draw close to the end of our fifth year with the ferals, and their age, I’ve been reflecting more and more on their departed brothers. Cookie’s loss in particular still hits me pretty hard, even as the second anniversary of his passing approaches. I really wanted him to have more time surrounded with love in a safe home, but it was just not meant to be. Then there was the 10^th Anniversary of Willy’s passing this Spring, Tigger’s 25^th back in February, and Flash’s 10^th upcoming six months from now. And of course, there will be Gandalf’s 27^th in March of next year. It’s hard to believe at this point that more than half of my life has been filled with cats, and I have been mourning the loss of some for almost half of my life. I kinda think that come 2026, I’ll dedicate a few entries of the Tales to the kitties of the past, because there are even more to talk about, like Shadow, Hershey I, and Shamrock.  There are blurbs for some on RMG website, but I think it will be nice to revisit the good memories, even though they are tinged with sadness. So, if I don’t make it back to this space this year, consider this a promise to myself to tell some more tales of the cats who have shaped who I have become in my waning years.