Happy June, team TNR. I hope you’re doing marvelously.
We had a jarring experience at Tabby’s Place this month. But, more on that in a moment.
First, an update on the little friends you helped us to rescue in May. The “apple litter” is plump, healthy, and practicing their cutest tricks for our upcoming Kitten Shower. Braeburn, Gala, Cameo , Macintosh and Baldwin are all doing fabulously! As for mama Apple, she made it abundantly clear that she’s not sweet on the indoor life. And so, we’ve placed her in a safe colony, where she’ll get all the care and (from-a-distance) love she needs — with no more kittens in her future.
The future’s also looking bright for one brave little boy. But that wasn’t the case a few weeks ago.
Cats communicate in all kinds of ways to get what they need. This is one of the things we admire about them; no matter how frail, fearful or in any way challenged, a cat can generally find a way to find a way.
But it’s hard to find your way when your head is encased in number 1 recycled plastic. (That’s plastic code PET, adding insult to injarstice.) Behold one tragically jarred cat.
Our best forensics suggest that this was all the result of one poorly planned snack. You can’t blame the jarred cat, really, not given what he smelled: that grand unifying ingredient, that oily organizing principle, the delicious common denominator that makes tuna salad, egg salad, coleslaw and any number of sandwiches scrumptious.
But this mayo misadventure went terribly wrong.
The little stray’s head went in. His head stayed in. His meows were muffled. And all for minimal mayo, little more than a lackluster lick.
Still, cats are capital at making a way where there ain’t no way. And so, the tuxedo with the unfortunate snack selection found a way to find us.
Someone saw something, and selfsame someone told someone who told someone who told Tabby’s Place that there was a cat with a jar. Next thing we knew, we — by which I mean Danielle the Valiant — were on our way to Jarred Cat’s Location, trap and courage in hand. One successful capture later, and Jarred Cat was on his way to the emergency vet.
Happily, our sorry snacker’s embarrassing headgear left no permanent damage. But, it seems Jarred Cat is a proud sort. Once freed from his sandwich-slop shackles, he attempted to destroy all evidence of his escapades, by which I mean All Of Humanity.
The emergency vet’s staff attempted to be gentle: “Um. We were wondering. Did you realize this cat is a little…um. Well, feral?”
Make that more than a dollop feral.
We named our feral friend Hellman’s, which works on a few levels. In addition to having been trapped in a literal Hellman’s jar, our jarred gent made it clear that when you bring out the Hellman’s, you really do bring out the best.
As with all our TNR cats, we ensured Hellman’s was in good health and microchipped him before returning him to the outdoor life he loves. With a caring cadre of caregivers ready to feed and look out for him, Hellman’s settled into a barn home. And, as you can see by his jubilant sprint here, he’s more than ready to delight in his next eight lives.
Run free and snack smartly, my feral friend. We’ll see you on the other side of the sandwich.