OK, I may be jumping the gun slightly. Officially, it’s neither spring nor kitten season yet. Unofficially, the blooming has begun. It’s seventy degrees, free-roaming cats are emerging from wintry hidey-holes, and kittens are blooming like so many daffodils.
But it’s the full-grown feral fellas who have our full attention this March. Last month’s brave boys Amos and Wesley both continue their triumphal reentries to health. As of this writing, Amos has moved into our FIV+ Suite, and he’s doing magnificently well. He’s still not fond of our species (OK, major understatement), but he gets on famously with the other cats — and, most importantly, he’s feeling better than he has in a very long time. Little Wesley’s soldiering through his continued bandage changes…and learning to let us love him, too.
But these boys were only the earliest crocuses in the 2016 garden. No sooner had we closed last month’s update than two new, needy unneutered dudes arrived. Behold Chachi (below) and Hawkins (above right).
Yes, you read that right: we have a cat named Chachi. (We have a Joni, too, but I don’t think she loves him, as they’ve never met. Then again, maybe cats do eHarmony, too.) Chach came to us in the worst way; in fact, the person who’d been caring for him outside reported that he appeared to have rabies, since he was “foaming at the mouth.”
Undaunted by that description, we welcomed Chachi into our care…and found that he was, indeed, foaming.
With snot.
Poor, gentle Chachi had the mother of all upper respiratory infections. Combined with agonizing dental disease, this sweet soul was a drooling, dripping, desperate mess. All that ailing left him unable to eat, and it’s likely time wouldn’t have been on his side outdoors. Fortunately, Chachi’s now getting the megadoses of antibiotics he’ll need to recover — plus the stinkiest, yummiest junk food in the history of convincing cats to eat.
On the other side of Tabby’s Place you’ll find one Hawkins, so named for arriving here on 2/29 — Sadie Hawkins Day. But this is no ladies’ man; honestly, Hawkins hopes that neither ladies nor gentlemen look his way. Humans are not his dream dates.
Or, more precisely, we are — he just doesn’t realize how good he’s got it. (And that’s OK; we can live without feral gratitude. :-)) By the time poor Hawkins came to us, he’d been hobbled by a horrific leg injury for over six months. We don’t know all the circumstances around why his caretakers allowed this to persist so long, but we’re extremely grateful he’s here now.
Since Hawkins’ wound had festered for so long, it was too late to save his right front leg: the tissue was necrotic (dead), and the bone had fused completely. Our vet team removed his leg and has been treating him with pain medication and antibiotics. In addition to his major traumatic injury, it seems poor Hawkins was the neighborhood punching bag for other cats: his head, arms and body are virtually covered in bite marks, scabs and scratches. It’s hard to picture this big, strong cat being anyone’s victim, but we think his terrible leg injury must have left him so weakened that he was an easy target.
This boy has seen some terrible times, to be sure. But now, with one less leg yet infinite love in his life, the future looks like a field of wildflowers.
Emphasis on the “wild.”
Whether or not Hawkins ever likes — OK, stops detesting — us, we’re smitten, swooning, and simply grateful he got to us in time.
On behalf of Hawkins, Chachi, Wesley, Amos and all the cats and kittens who will ramble our way this spring and summer, I’m immensely grateful to you. Thank you for so generously making their healing possible. Happy, happy spring!