My neighbor Adam Gerard writes a column in the Del Ray Patch called “Off the Leash.” It is a delightful column about dogs and their owners in and around Del Ray, our funky little burg. Adam is expanding from dogs to cats, and since my two feline companions have a life of their own on Face Book, he asked to come up to meet them and perhaps write a short piece on their lives with the Widow Fike.
“Sure,” I said. After all, why should I deny my girls another spot in the limelight? Least you call me a crazy cat lady. Remember I’m a pet friendly gal once married to a well know AKC Judge with whom dobes and danes were shown on a regular basis. Big laugh here: at one time we shared a king-size bed with three full-grown Dobermans.
I suppose it would be helpful to provide the background on my cats. Until a few weeks ago, I shared my humble home with Tootsie (better known as Toots). She is a 12-pound Ragdoll Himalayan, a beautiful cross-eyed seal point beauty. Toots will be nine years old in April. I first obtained her when I lived in Tampa.
So, let me go back further. Before moving to Tampa, my former husband (hereto after called Little Dickey) and I adopted a tuxedo-marked cat named Schlep Rock from his oldest daughter. Schlep assimilated into a home with two Dobermans and everyone lived well together. In 1997 we moved to Tampa and the dogs and Schlep made the move with us. It was shortly after relocating that a co-worker began to look for a home for her tuxedo cat named Kitty. So, guess who came to live with Little Dickey and me? Kitty. Kitty is a story of her own and I’ll leave that to a later blog.
So, our home in Tampa was now house too black and white cats and with the addition of Cruela, three Dobermans. Kitty took no guff from anyone. She was beyond being an Alpha cat and even the dobes would cut her a wide swath. Poor Schlep: her life of peace was disrupted by an adult “cat bitch” moving into the house.
In 2001 Little Dickey and I divorced. He got the dogs and I kept the cats. Trust me, I got the better end of the deal! In the fall of 2001 I rescued one of the farm cats from the farm my soon to be husband. Don’t shake your head about the dates, read the older posts and catch up! So, I adopted a male kitten that was named Scratch. Did I say he was a farm cat? Thus the name. He was a beautiful Siamese marked kitten, bred by an old barn cat mom who always had one Siamese marked kitten in each litter…definitely an old recessive gene lurking there somewhere. All the other kittens were either black or a dull grey stripe.
Well, Scratch didn’t live long. He had some ailment (inbreeding of the seventh generation of mom breeding with sons) and had to be euthanized before he was six months old. So, it was just Schlep, Kitty and me again. Schlep was aging and having elderly cat problems and I was trying to decide how to handle her issues. I was torn with visits to the vet and a decision about her longevity.
Spring 2002 rolled around and my neighbors called to let me know that there was a box of kittens available at the local Kash and Karry store and they were Siamese. What? Someone is giving away Siamese kittens…too good to be true…so off I went to see for myself. When I arrived at the location the two 13 year olds girls only had males left and to my delight, they were Ragdolls, not Siamese. I told the girls I wanted a female and they called their mom who told me she still had two girls at her house, so off I trotted. She met me at the curb, tossed a kitten into my hands and sent me on my way. HUH? That was it…I didn’t get to see the other one, just drive by and drop? WTH?
Now, I’m not complaining, I had the most beautiful Ragdoll Himalayan kitten in my hands. At that time, she was all cream with the very start of her seal point markings. Jim and I were married by then and I called him to tell him of my find. He was not overly pleased because I then had three cats in my life. I believe the language “Cat Lady” might have been bandied about.
Toots came to live with me, and her sister moved in with my neighbors who’d alerted me to the free kittens. Needless to say, Kitty set the tone of the house the moment Toots moved in. In no uncertain terms, she let her know she ruled the roost and would always rule the roost. Toots could have cared less; she was a six-week old kitten who found great delight in sleeping in the empty cat food bowl. She lived in a kitten play land. She would chase Schlep’s tail as it swept back and forth. Kitty ignored them both.
Within the first month of Toots moving in, Schlep’s health had deteriorated to the point that I had to have her put down. I was broken hearted. Two cats put down within a very short time frame. I had Toots to the vet for a well kitten exam and Schlep was being sent to cat heaven a few rooms down in the vet office. My former daughter-in-law recently asked me about Schlep. She was afraid Schelp might have been a casualty of the divorce from Little Dickey. I happily told her that was not the case. Schlep lived a good long life until the “good” was no more.
In the fall of 2002 Kitty and Toots moved to Del Ray Virginia with me. I do have to point out that when we moved, we were actually flown to Virginia by my husband Jim (read the past blogs to catch up) He was a pilot: had our own planes. In fact, whenever we would take a long vacation back to Tampa, we took the girls with us. Spoiled? You betcha!
Life in the little house was fun. Ragdolls are referred to as the Golden Retrievers of cats. Trust me, there is no truer definition. Toots is a loving blue eyed, cross-eyed sweetie. She just wants a hand in her fur as she kneads your lap. She is a talker when she is hungry. One would think she never has a good meal. She is quick to jump on a counter to steal food when my back is turned, and no open bag of Tostitos is safe around her. She sticks her head in the bag, grabs a chip and has her own fiesta.
In the spring of 2003 the old barn cat Squeaky had another litter. I’d stopped counting how many she’d had, but we had plenty of cats and no mice. Naturally there was a Siamese marked kitten and I was on a mission to capture it to bring it home. Needless to say, grabbing a wild child like the barn cats is no easy deal. I had leather gloves that went past my elbows (remember Scratch?) and I began putting food on the back porch so the cats would gather to eat. Sure enough, the kittens began to follow the adults and the little Siamese was no exception. It took two weekends but I managed to nab the kitten. I was pleased to determine the kitten was a female (I’m partial to girls). Then the naming began. As Jim and I often discussed, animals often name themselves. So it was, she was named Cessna. Jim flew a Cessna and with the girls in and out of the plane so often, it somehow seemed fitting.
So, Cessy moved to Del Ray with Kitty and Toots. Kitty with her usual friendly attitude immediately laid out the rules in the house. They went something like this. “I rule the house. There is a pecking order, you are lowest cat on the totem pole, but Toots is a pushover. Get it?” Toots on the other hand was all goo goo eyed (well, maybe that is because she is cross-eyed). She loved Cessy and Cessy loved her. Cessy would play with Toots and groom Toots’ ears and face. They played like sisters and slept side by side. I loved the bonding of the two. Three cats and Judi: quite a houseful, but I loved their company, and Jim as much as he chided me, had a heart of gold when it came to animals, especially the girls.
Life was good: happy cats and married to the love of my life. I lost Jim to cancer in 2005 and in the fall of 2006, Cessy was diagnosed with cancer. Her disease was complicated by a heart murmur that was getting worse and worse; more than likely exacerbated by the cancer. We put her on a treatment plan and decided to give her a few more months of the good life. She started to add weight and was her usual happy self and then one Sunday I came home and found her dead at the bottom of my basement steps. I knew when I walked in the house and only two cats greeted me that Cessy was gone. She had a massive heart attack and my vet told me she had probably passed immediately. I was beating myself up over and over that I wasn’t home and my vet assured me there was nothing I could do about the situation. It would have happened and I was probably spared seeing the event.
There I was with two cats again. I decided that I’d stick with two. I do believe that for some time Toots mourned Cessy, her bed buddy was gone and she had to suffer the hisses and swats of Kitty who was getting crankier and crankier as she aged. Kitty is a story unto herself and as I said, I’ll save that for a later post. Suffice it to say, there is not a neighbor on my street that has not met or should I say had a run in with Kitty.
And so it was. Cat bliss. Toots would often travel to my condo in Annapolis for some mommy time since Kitty always commandeered my lap and Toots was pushed aside like a redheaded stepchild. In the fall of 2009 Kitty had a routine well cat visit and the vet informed me that she had a health issue that was going to continue to erode her health. For the love of God: not again. Really? My Kitty the Killer Cat was going to succumb to a health issue instead of some great adventure and going out like the warrior she was. So we watched her health, medicated, and as she began to decline I decided I had to help her to Cat Heaven and had her euthanized. Not a fun decision I can assure you. I loved Kitty and she had a cadre of fans and maybe a few haters and the bird population in Del Ray sent up a huge cheer with the decision I had to make.
It was just Toots and me in the house. Toots handled the emptiness well and every time I’d head to Annapolis for the weekend I’d take Toots. We both needed the company. I had decided that I would eventually get a new kitten, but I wanted to wait until I felt the time was right. Toots turns nine in April and she is such a lovey I decided to get her a kitten for Christmas!
I started looking in the late summer and decided to work through an adoption agency. In early October I saw a picture of the itty bittiest Siamese mixed kitten on
http://www.adoptapet.com/ I immediately called to ask about adopting the tiny kitten and was invited out to Silver Spring, Maryland to meet her. I jumped at the chance, because I’d been to late for a kitten I’d seen a few weeks earlier.
I drove immediately to the rescue group that had the kitten and went through the adoption process. The questionnaire was interesting; questioning about the cost of care I would spend for the cat on an annual basis. I had to provide the information about current and previous cats and their vet’s information for a referral call. By the way, I use Alexandria Animal Hospital, http://www.vcahospitals.com/alexandria and I love the staff there.
I called my sister and sent her a picture of the little girl who was going to move in with Toots and me and we began to discuss names. I don’t know why we agreed on Rubee Begonia, but it just seemed to fit her because she is quite a gem! Rubee lived in the shelter with approximately 30 other felines of various ages. There was also a “house” dog that ran the premises. Rubee was no stranger to a house full of cats of all shapes, sizes, genders, personalities, and breeds. When I was able to bring her home several weeks later, she was very feeble from all the shots and surgeries she had undergone when she hit the magic weight of two pounds. She had been spayed, micro-chipped, received a one year rabies shot, been de-wormed, feline leukemia and feline distempered inoculated. Feeble did not begin to describe her condition. Quite honestly, I didn’t think she was going to live through the night because she was also suffering from a very bad respiratory infection.
I immediately started to feed her heavy sour cream because of the fat content and I also fed her the canned cat food I keep on hand for Toot treats. She had an appetite, but I still stressed about her day after day. It became clear that she had ear mites, so after being at the house for two weeks she was finally scheduled to see her vet. She got a good bill of health and was just over two pounds. I am happy to say that the last time she saw her vet she was pushing 3.5 pounds.
So, here is this tiny creature in my house. Toots cam up to see what the commotion was, took one look at the midget, hissed, got her nose out of joint and immediately climbed on my bed. Now, I knew this was going to be short lived. I knew that the relationship with Toots and Rubee would be just like the relationship between Toots and Cessy.
Rubee knew her way around a set of stairs. I was worried she would not be able to get up and down them in her weakened condition, but she surprised me by coming up from the basement where the litter was. I’d actually placed some bedding downstairs for her so she would be able to eat and potty, but no, she was a social girl and decided to hang upstairs with Toots and me.
Rubee was too small to hop onto anything, so I put a piece of bedding on the floor next to the radiator and she immediately curled her tiny little body up next to the heat radiating there Toots decided that was akin to giving Rubee a princess perch and immediately claimed a small corner of the bedding for herself. Hmmm…marking territory or a small glimmer of a bond. It was the latter. Toots would curl up on that bedding like she was glued to it and Rubee, would curl up there as well. When she was not lying right next to Toots, she would stretch out a paw and touch Toots as she drifted of to kitty dreamland. And so it began, the bonding started in less than 72 hours on a cold winters night and my prediction of the relationship has come to fruition. Rubee curls up next to Toots whenever she can. They spar and rip thorough the house and when the play is over, Rubee cleans Toots’ ears, and eyes and curls up next to her.
So, when my friend and neighbor Adam Gerard asked to do a small article about the girls for his “Off the Leash” column in the Del Ray patch, I quickly agreed. The article absolutely captures the essence of Rubee: Toots boycotted the interview. You can read the article here: http://delray.patch.com/articles/life-with-a-kitten
Which brings me to today’s blog. A woman naming herself Catherine Furry commented on the blog and started a bit of a “Cat Fight” with her comment to the post. Truly, visit the post for the comment and the follow up. I suppose that is why I felt compelled to lay out the history of cats in my life. Quite honestly, I cannot recall a time that I did not live with a cat. We certainly had several at all times during my childhood. With six children in the house, my mother was often coerced into adopting every stray dog and cat that wandered through our yard.
Life with pets is never boring. I live to serve my cats. Toots is absolutely the Princess of the house and has had several years of Face Book updates about her activities. She has posed for more than one Face Book picture, so much so that she is considering her own profile. Rubee is a delight as she does all things kitten. She chases every shiny object in the house, roots through the waste cans to grab whatever treasure she perceives it to hold. She will run with her “treasure” held in her mouth as though she has found the Holy Grail.
I have nursed cats through sicknesses and have had my heart wrenched out when they have departed my life. I’ve had loud cats, skinny cats, fat cats, smart cats and of course Toots who is hard to put in a box: literally and figuratively. Toots is my precious cross-eyed princess who is soft hearted and loving. She is just a big baby doll. She has so much fur that she is regularly groomed into a lion clip as though she will be performing in a circus. She has enough intuition to know when I’m sick or sad and always stays close to me during those times. Rubee? Ha, not so much. She is still being the true kid of the house.
So, to Ms. Furry…you got four paws down this morning with your snarky cat naïve comment. I will post this link so that you can take a look and if you choose, leave a snarky remark. The best part of my blog? I can read your comment and choose to or choose not to post the comments.
I suppose there are frailties in many of our lives and I cannot conceive the gumption it takes (on a good day I’d have said balls) to make a snarky comment, and many uneducated comments. Please, as my mother said, if you can’t say anything nice, say nothing at all. Adam writes a fun column and his observations of the antics in my house captured the very essence of the three ring circus it is having the new kitten.
So, Ms. Furry you got hisses and no meows, but you got your few minutes of limelight in the Patch. Perhaps you should turn the poison pen into a worthwhile activity and volunteer at an animal shelter and learn a bit more about cats. I can assure you my 12-pound Toots would in no way have hurt the kitten. She was not going to roll over on her, she certainly would not pounce on her, and cats make their peace, something perhaps you can school yourself in. So, since this is my blog I got to be snarky. Care for a cup of catnip tea? Just hit me up and I’ll invite you over.
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