I find myself with another bonus post for April, where all of my other designated topics have been covered and I need to think outside the box for something to talk about. When I planned out the month, I fully intended to do another “Chris’s Choice” type of post, where I ask my boyfriend to go into the horse room and pick something at random for me to talk about.
However, I’m going to hijack my own blog instead. There are no model horses in this post. There are no non-living collectible objects of any kind in this post.
There’s just this guy.
This past Thursday, my friend Kelly W and her husband Jon were enjoying a vacation in Kentucky for the Rolex event, staying at an AirBNB in Lexington. Kelly sent pictures of this adorable little cat to our group chat and said, “I can keep this, right?” Immediately followed by a picture of him in her lap.
It wasn’t that simple, though, or there wouldn’t be a story here.
After making contact with a local individual, Kelly and Jon found out this little guy had been around for about a year, living with a feral colony near the AirBNB, and was the lowest in the pecking order, constantly getting beat up and bullied by the other cats in the colony. The colony caretaker said he kept hoping someone would take the little guy home because he was so sweet and obviously not doing well as an outdoor cat.
Kelly and Jon saw the little guy sleeping on/under cars for safety (!) - it was his best chance of avoiding the other cats. When he showed up in the mornings to join Kelly for her coffee, he had fresh new wounds on him every time.
We couldn’t conceive of leaving him in that situation, but he was an outdoor cat probably chalk-full of parasites, fleas, and potentially communicable diseases. Everyone in our immediate circle had cats and no space to isolate a stray with unknown medical issues - except me and Chris.
To do their due diligence, Kelly and Jon called a lot of rescues in the Lexington area, but many were closed and the rest were kill shelters that couldn’t guarantee his safety. That wasn’t an option for any of us. So I told Chris about the little guy - just his situation, not asking if we could take him, not thinking for a second that Chris would agree - but Chris said, “Aww. Tell them to bring him here.” And he meant it.
We couldn’t conceive of leaving him in that situation, but he was an outdoor cat probably chalk-full of parasites, fleas, and potentially communicable diseases. Everyone in our immediate circle had cats and no space to isolate a stray with unknown medical issues - except me and Chris.
To do their due diligence, Kelly and Jon called a lot of rescues in the Lexington area, but many were closed and the rest were kill shelters that couldn’t guarantee his safety. That wasn’t an option for any of us. So I told Chris about the little guy - just his situation, not asking if we could take him, not thinking for a second that Chris would agree - but Chris said, “Aww. Tell them to bring him here.” And he meant it.
So Kelly and Jon, being the amazing people they are, went out and bought a carrier and some supplies, fed the little guy canned food and treats, gave him some toys to play with, and let him sit in their laps for protection and affection whenever they were around.
On Sunday morning, after a brief but mighty struggle and a lot of backtalk, the little guy was safely installed in his crate. He rode on Kelly’s lap the whole way back to Pittsburgh, mostly sleeping, but occasionally purring, making air biscuits, and reaching out with his little piggies. He got to us around 2:30 Sunday afternoon.
Let me sum up my impressions of him after just over 24 hours with us.
This guy is little. He's an intact tom, but he weighs all of 7.5 pounds. He's slightly underfed, but not grossly so; he's just small in stature, which I'm sure is part of why he was bullied so much.
This guy is little. He's an intact tom, but he weighs all of 7.5 pounds. He's slightly underfed, but not grossly so; he's just small in stature, which I'm sure is part of why he was bullied so much.
This is a cat whose fight-or-flight has been on, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, for the past year. Everything startles him. He is terrified of the sliding glass door that leads into the sunroom. He hides for the first 2-3 minutes we’re in the room with him. Any unexpected sound or fast movement has him ducking and looking for somewhere to hide.
This is a cat who has probably only ever felt safe around humans. I’d bet a substantial amount of money that the only time he knew he got to eat all he wanted or be truly protected from the other cats was when he was near a human. When he’s been scared and we’re in the room with him, he crawls right to me or Chris and makes himself as small as possible in our laps. When I say he bolts food - he stands there and inhales every scrap, tense as a bow string, like he’s just waiting to be pounced on or chased off and he has to eat all he can, as fast as he can, because he doesn't know when he'll be able to get more.
It’s heartbreaking to see, honestly.
This is a cat who has probably only ever felt safe around humans. I’d bet a substantial amount of money that the only time he knew he got to eat all he wanted or be truly protected from the other cats was when he was near a human. When he’s been scared and we’re in the room with him, he crawls right to me or Chris and makes himself as small as possible in our laps. When I say he bolts food - he stands there and inhales every scrap, tense as a bow string, like he’s just waiting to be pounced on or chased off and he has to eat all he can, as fast as he can, because he doesn't know when he'll be able to get more.
It’s heartbreaking to see, honestly.
This is a cat whose every day has been a nightmare for him, but he is the sweetest, most gentle, most affectionate little soul that ever was. I wasn’t sure how he’d react when Jon and Kelly left, but within 30 seconds, he was curled up in Chris’s lap. He doesn’t know us at all but he immediately trusted us. He has made exactly one sound of protest in the past 24 hours - a tiny little growl when he saw Chris inside the house through the sliding glass door and Chris made an unexpected sound as he was getting some stuff together. That’s it. One tiny growl. Then he was right back to crawling into my lap and purring. He head-butts whatever part of us he can reach. He stretches and shows you his belly (and it’s not a trap). He let Kelly hold him while I put flea meds on him, and he’s let Chris pick him up, and he put his little feet into my hands. He fell asleep so hard in my lap last night that he left a little puddle of drool on my jeans.
I don’t know what the future is going to hold for this little guy. I’m still pretty raw after everything we went through with Felice in the past couple years, and I’ve struggled a lot since his arrival with whether or not I’m ready to commit to another cat. I don’t know what medical issues he has (though he has a vet appointment tomorrow, so we’ll find out) or if we are ready for or capable of dealing with those issues. I don’t know if we’d even be able to get him adopted if he does have a lot of issues that we aren’t ready to deal with. I am taking everything one day at a time.
For now, he’s safe; no one has been mean to him in almost 36 hours; the fleas he harbors are dying; he can eat and drink all he wants; he has soft places to sleep instead of pavement and car hoods; tomorrow he’ll get his wounds cleaned and cared for, and his vaccinations and anti-parasitics and whatever else he needs, and we’ll have his bloodwork done and he’ll be tested for FeLV and FIV; he’ll get his intact “trouble puffs” removed as soon as he’s healthy enough; and he’s regularly getting attention and affection from us. No matter where he ends up, we'll do our absolute best to make sure he wants for nothing, ever again.
That’s good enough for today.
His name is TBD; we have a short list, but we need to get to know him a little better first.
In the meantime, enjoy more picture spam.
I don’t know what the future is going to hold for this little guy. I’m still pretty raw after everything we went through with Felice in the past couple years, and I’ve struggled a lot since his arrival with whether or not I’m ready to commit to another cat. I don’t know what medical issues he has (though he has a vet appointment tomorrow, so we’ll find out) or if we are ready for or capable of dealing with those issues. I don’t know if we’d even be able to get him adopted if he does have a lot of issues that we aren’t ready to deal with. I am taking everything one day at a time.
For now, he’s safe; no one has been mean to him in almost 36 hours; the fleas he harbors are dying; he can eat and drink all he wants; he has soft places to sleep instead of pavement and car hoods; tomorrow he’ll get his wounds cleaned and cared for, and his vaccinations and anti-parasitics and whatever else he needs, and we’ll have his bloodwork done and he’ll be tested for FeLV and FIV; he’ll get his intact “trouble puffs” removed as soon as he’s healthy enough; and he’s regularly getting attention and affection from us. No matter where he ends up, we'll do our absolute best to make sure he wants for nothing, ever again.
That’s good enough for today.
His name is TBD; we have a short list, but we need to get to know him a little better first.
In the meantime, enjoy more picture spam.
