I’m sure I don’t need to remind you that 2013-2014 was no ordinary winter in the United States. From the moment the polar vortex set up shop over our heads, it was seemingly ceaseless snow and mayhem.
And now it is over.
Yet, even more than the ceasing of the snow or the blooming of blossoms, the feral cats in our TNR program seem to trumpet the change of seasons. This was quite poignantly exemplified for us by two extraordinary cats.
Just at winter’s tail-end — which, this year, came sometime after the “official” start of spring — we received a worrisome call about one of our old friends: Limpy.
You may recall the elusive Winky, one of our very first TNR friends. Limpy was Winky’s kinsman, from the same colony…and he was in trouble. Breathlessly, the colony caretaker told us how Limpy’s mouth was bloody and battered. Something awful had happened, but the caretaker couldn’t get close enough to see quite what.
Our intrepid team was back on the scene, and in no time Limpy was back at Tabby’s Place. Things were even worse than they’d sounded: Limpy’s wound wasn’t an injury from something outside him (a predator, a fence post etc.)…but an eruption from within. Our very feral, very frightened boy had very fast-moving cancer.
With tears and great affection, our entire staff surrounded Limpy as Dr. C gently let him go. How badly we wanted it to be otherwise for this brave, beautiful boy — yet how grateful we were that he could leave our world loved. Left to his own devices outdoors, Limpy would have struggled in pain for heaven knows how long, succumbing alone. Heartbreak and all, we were glad to have turned the tracks of his journey with love. Pictured below left is Limpy in his glory.
But bittersweetness is never the last word in this business of loving cats. No sooner had we wept over Limpy than the phone rang and another story began.
A big-hearted human had found a tiny black cat moments after the cat was struck by a car. She (the cat, that is) was ear-tipped, suggesting that she was part of a colony somewhere. Given the gravity of her injuries, if she didn’t get treatment now, she wouldn’t be long for this world. Could we help?
I had the privilege of chauffeuring this little miss to the emergency vet. Given how serious her injuries initially seemed, I named her Martha, for the sister of the biblical Lazarus, who was raised from the dead. Happily, Martha was not in need of a full-scale resurrection — just some surgery to fix a broken jaw, and some therapy for a badly broken leg.
Sweetening the situation, despite that ear-tip, Martha is not in any way a feral cat. Even as she recovers, she’s euphoric at the prospect of snuggles, and we’re quite confident she’ll be adopted the moment she’s healed. She’s full of confidence, too, as you can see above.
And so the beat and the blooming goes on. Dear feral friends, you bring hope and healing to feral and free-roaming cats in so many different forms. On behalf of Limpy, Martha and every cat touched by your love, thank you. May you have a beautiful season of spring and all sorts of Resurrection!