Dear Supporters of Bacon,

There’s an old saying—If at first, you don’t succeed, try, try again!

  Imagine this. I arrive early at Tabby’s Place to see Bacon. I am strategizing, trying to get to Karina’s office before the lovely volunteer who cleans the office does so that I can have some alone time with Bacon. I peek through the window on the door. Yes! No volunteer. Yet, there’s something not quite right. Marcia’s cage is empty but there’s no Marcia. Wait. The flap to Bacon’s cozy house is open and . . . here comes Marcia.

            My first thought is that Marcia was paying Bacon a visit. Have the protocols changed?

But, no. Bacon isn’t there and Marcia, like most of us, is taking the opportunity to sniff around.

             “Well?” I ask her.

             “I just want to see how the other half lives.”

              “Where’s Bacon?”     She shrugs.

            Now I’m concerned. Bacon has loads of medical issues and discovering him not in his usual place raises my anxiety level. I learn he’s in hospital and that he’ll be there for a few hours.

            Darn it.

Here’s the scoop:

            One issue involved whether Bacon was getting all his seizure medication. It’s usually mixed in with his wet food, and the staff was noticing, lately, that he wasn’t eating all his wet food. (I can identify with this . . . luring cats to eat a certain thing that has the meds in it and, of course, that’s the very thing they won’t touch.) For Bacon, it’s serious because his seizures can become more frequent without his meds.

            Issue number two involved what the staff noticed when Bacon was let out overnight. They saw blood in his urine on the floor and on his blankets. Now the poor little guy can sometimes urinate during a seizure, but there usually isn’t any blood.

  The staff, therefore, jumped into action. Bacon was sedated and examined. Because his bladder felt very hard and enlarged, he was scheduled for an ultrasound. Fortunately, although his bladder has thickened, there was no tumor present.

 The last issue was that Bacon needed medication for a urinary tract infection.

  I arrive one week later and Bacon is where he is supposed to be, but I am wary. How is the poor boy feeling? Cautiously, I peek in. He’s sitting up, and immediately gazes up at me. I unzipped his house, and he was out and about in a flash.

            You are definitely feeling much better, aren’t you?

   I get down on the floor with him. He makes his tour of the room, back and forth. He goes from corner to corner, sniffing around, investigating. And then something magical happens.

He passes by, sniffs my leg, puts his paws up and rests on top of my leg, and stops. This is the closest encounter I’ve had with Bacon in months. I stop breathing, not wanting to ruin the moment. I pat my leg, encouraging him to go further, and for a split second, I feel like he’s going to. He stiffens as if he’s about to jump on top of me. But, then he backs off.

       That’s okay. Progress has been made. Yippee!

 

I spy a cat toy, a multi-colored soft ball attached to a string, and a stick I can hold.  The fun really begins. For the next few minutes, a kind of cat-and-mouse game ensues—Bacon is determined to paw the ball and bite the stick. He’s fast and relentless in his pursuit of the ball that I try to keep out of his reach. But he is very fast and very skillful, as it turns out.

All too soon, the ball is abandoned. Bacon circles the room a few more times, making sure to rub against me as he passes. I reach out and pet the back of his neck. His fur is snuggly soft.

 Marcia has been watching the entire scene. (Later I let her out of her house and give her a big hug.)

            Finally, Bacon returns to his cozy home.

            As I go off to do my volunteer job, I think about our time together and know that this little boy has given me the best holiday present of all. Winning the trust of someone who is so wary is a very special gift. I know that today I finally won a little trust from this very special little guy.

 

Bacon and I, as always, thank you for your continued generosity to Tabby’s Place. Cats like Bacon would never stand a chance in the real world without the special care they receive in a place like this.

We hope your holiday is filled with joy and love, spent with family and friends.

Your correspondent,
Kate