Will the Cat Stories Ever End? Whadda U think?

Here are the two little angels we've been fostering in their super kitty bed, Guera (above) and Mimi (below). In one my last cat blogs, we had the surprise kitten thrown in the carport.  That little darling was taken to Planned Pethood and adopted.  So what's new enough in OUR cat commando to have to report again so soon? 

The following week someone threw ANOTHER young kitten into the carport.  This one was younger, a calico with a lot of black and brown and very little white, had a sinus infection, and didn't come from a family who was tired of her. She was more feral but not afraid of me; she seemed to think I was her mom. It was a wild couple of days with that one around, she did have to stay in the outside bathroom, but I fixed her up with food,water, catbox, blankets, attention and set the Vicks Vaporub jar near her to help her congestion.  She was a sweet little kitty, AREN'T THEY ALL? Dammit! Someone decided to make it my problem.  Maybe the neighbors don't realize our cats are fixed and that these cannot be our kittens that they find in the neighborhood! How's that for optimism?

I had to turn to Mimi the cat rescuer. She came to bail me out again, and because the kitty was gentle and catbox trained, she took it to Planned Pethood where she received treatment and was expected to be a good candidate for adoption.  Again, thanks to Mimi for taking that adorable but impossible little problem out of my life.

Meanwhile, the little sisters have grown considerably these past two months. They learned how to open their bedroom door when they were ready to expand their territory.  They are smart and paid attention. They learned a lot from the bigger cats. We had a person arrive to stay in the kittens' 'old room', and we moved them out into a larger running space.  They now occupy the dining room, living room, and kitchen. Basically all the common areas in the house.  Our commando is allowed out into the living space, but we have to keep all screen doors well shut because the little buggers are now ready to explore the outside. That is not part of the owner's plan.  I am an open door person and I have to think twice about closing doors behind me.  Same with Pablo. But so far so good.  Our cats enjoy watching the kittens play, and so far they are all able to get along.  Moka and Buster are the most jealous, since they take my attention from them.  Not to mention we had a group meeting, humans and cats and decided the commando was already too large and no one else can be admitted.  The cats are doing a great job on outsider cat security.  But I have not done my part on interior security.  I still cater to two adorable little darlings whose photos I now like to take. Here are some pics.  In just another couple of weeks these kittens will be moving to a new home.  Their experiences here have taught them quite a bit about other cats, kittens, humans,.....by the way they are not so afraid of humans anymore!  Talk about a full house!

the favorite toy

 this is how the other cats drink water, cool!

Bits and Pieces: Message in a Bottle

10^th Day at sea, located approximately 1000 miles south of Hawaii in the Pacific Ocean.

June 16, 1990

Our 38ft. trimaran planed, skimming the water’s surface; rare brisk winds moved us along at a fast pace.  The guys said we made 200 miles that day.  It was one of our best days yet.  We were in the ‘doldrums’, the area from 5°N across the equator to 5°S.   An area known for its prevailing stillness. 

On that day I decided to cook spaghetti and sauce for dinner.  To cook below decks in a galley where the gimbaled stove swings back and forth, the cook has to stand on bended knees to move with the rhythm of the ocean while keeping his or her balance.  If he fights the movement, he accomplishes no crew dinner and ends up seasick.  It’s important to roll with the flow, to stay loose and think about dancing.  The ingredients slide back and forth on the counter spaces.  It is a patience-requiring, time-consuming task. It’s not so much a multi-task as it is an octopus task, wishing one had more arms to catch the items rolling out of reach.  

I wanted to spiff up the Ragu with not only fresh onions and garlic, but with some of the dried green peppers, mushrooms, tomatoes, oregano, etc., that I’d dehydrated for the trip.  Preparing dinner that day was my main project, and merits its own paragraph because it’s a complicated process to complete this important task, one which has to be done two or three times a day.  People often ask, “What do you do all day at sea on a long voyage?”  This is one function landlubbers don’t consider.  We work for our supper at sea.  Cooking meals is just one example of essential tasks that consume time during an ocean crossing.

We decided to drink one of our family-sized bottles of wine with our dinner, but we got carried away celebrating our crossing the equator and zipping through the doldrums.  We ended up drinking both Costco sized wine bottles. That’s when we had the bright idea to send out messages in the bottles.  We were completely toasted so it was a crude operation.  I wrote down who and where we were, the date, including our names and our PO Box in Kona, Hawaii.  In hindsight it would have been smart to empty the bottles, dry them, and then insert notes.  But in our state of inebriation we scrolled our notes and dropped them into the dregs of the red wine.    We corked them, tossed them, and forgot about them; other than the notes I’d documented in my journal. 

We threw our messages in the bottles into the South Pacific ocean approximately 1200 miles south of Hawaii.  Many a sailor before us had followed this age old tradition.  For the most part, once the fun of throwing the bottle into the ocean has passed, it is quickly forgotten, and no results are usually expected.  But many a bottle has been found. 

November 21, 1991
Kona, Hawaii

Sorry for the time jump, but the unexpected happened.  Seventeen months and five days after tossing the bottles in the ocean, over a year and a half later, a letter arrived in the mail from the South Pacific Country of Vanuatu.  Two cousins had found our message in a bottle.

Maybe you have seen Survivor: Vanuatu and have seen how outback it is.  It is located in a cluster of island groups northeast of Australia and New Zealand.  The official language is Bislama, although most people speak some French and/or English.  Rather than do a cultural write-up of the country I'll let the photos below show you what life looks like where one of the bottles washed up.

The letter was from one of two cousins, Patrick and Setla Simon, who found our bottle with the message.  They live in the southernmost part of the country on a small island Named Maskelynes, off the island of Malekula.  Their first letter to us was as follows:

Dear Sir (Hello)

My name is Setla. I live in a very small island. Yes friend I’ve already found the bottle. Inside the bottle there is a piece of paper or a small note.  Inside it you’ve wrote all your names, phone number and box number. I can’t read the whole thing because half of the note has been torn up, but anyway I try my best to read and understand it. There are some names but I cant see clearly so I want you to write back and re-write the whole passage again. I found the bottle with the note on this date. (Tuesday the 5^th November 1991)

Write back to me with this address. Never change any spelling.

Mr. Setla Simon

Pelongk Village

Maskelynes Island
South Malekula
Vanuatu

Thank you very much for your great attention! Bye, Setla

 We sent them an underwater disposable camera and asked them to take photos of themselves, where they found the bottle, and their family, which happens to also be their village.  They took the pictures and sent back the camera.  We continued to write back and forth until their requests got to be more than we could manage.  When the entire soccer team needed uniforms and shoes, they sort of stopped writing when we sent them a care package but not full of sporting equipment.  It would be incredible to visit them one day.  By now they are grown men with kids of their own, I would imagine.  Fishing and combing the lagoons.  I should write them a letter and see what’s new in Vanuatu.  At last report many yachts were visiting their area, thus they have become more anglicized, but I imagine it is still quite the peaceful little fishing village it always has been.

This is the mangrove where these guys found the bottle. The bottle traveled about 1,000 miles farther than we did on our sail trip.  We only sailed as far as Fiji.

Patrick and Setla, cousins, our new friends in Vanuatu. Yes, they loved the sunglasses and new flip flops.

A photo of their village from out on the boat, taken while fishing. They sent us pics of the fish they caught, the cleaning area, the drying palapa.

The family standing in their village posing for their first ever family photo.

Buds and Butterflies, Bits and Pieces

Buds and butterflies:  The mamey branches are flowering up again.  This morning I photographed a few beautifully bright orange butterflies (not monarchs) feasting on the seasonal blooms.

Bits and Pieces:  One of my main objectives living here is to finish writing....well, to finish writing SOMETHING, but primarily a travel adventure tale about the sail trip I was part of in 1990.  My husband Jim and I were invited to sail from Hawaii to Fiji with a sailor friend from San Diego and his brother on their boat.  We traveled on a 38 ft. trimaran, or triple hulled sailboat, for three months.  There is so much to this story that I have decided to try an experiment.  I want to post some of my writing. I have taken a new approach to just write about any day or experience and not try to write chronologically.  I am hoping that threatening to post these stories gives me the initiative to pick up that pen and paper every day, if just for a little while, and blog more often, even if I'm just telling sea stories.

It's more interesting than gossip, religion or politics! And so much less stressful!

Tomorrow I plan to post the first installment of BITS AND PIECES. Hope it works out! For all of us.

One Happy Ending, One Sad Ending

Gemelo, lived many years as a feral cat, and I imagine he lived his entire life in the abandoned property next door and in this house before I bought it.  This was the first photo he ever let me take of him in May, 2011. Gemelo - after several months of studying the life of the domestic cats in this commando - decided that he too would like to be able to count on meals, fresh water, some human love, and a warm place to sleep.  This photo was taken shortly after he had begun to let me pet him, flea drop him, brush and groom him in general, and he was accepted into the commado.  He is the father of who knows how many neighborhood cats, and of course some of my cats! Busmo for sure! I think the way cat heirarchy goes, he was still the king of the neighborhood because he wasn't neutered. He was so feral when I first moved here I couldn't capture him and he remained the only cat with balls in the commando.  And so he reigned as the macho of machos and the other cats let him get away with eating half their food.

Once he let me pet and groom him, and he started talking to me, I realized he was a very old cat. Cats age faster in the feral world, so I have no idea how many years old he was.  But I could feel his ribs, his fur was often dissheveled, and the coloring of his fur was another indicator.  I had the gut feeling that he knew his days were numbered and he wanted to live out his fantasy, to have all the cat comforts he'd never had.  I have seen this behavior before with a cat I had in Kona. 

Yesterday we found Gemelo hiding in the trough in the back of the patio. He looked terrible, was completely dissheveled, didn't smell great, and was not comfortable. I cleaned him up and gave him a nice comfy pillow and blanket in a corner of the closet, where it was quiet. I rocked him and gave him water in a syringe.  However, while thinking over the life of Gemelo, I remembered two nights ago he slept on the bed. He has never done that and I think he always wanted to.  The next night he slept on Buster's bed. That was ballsy.  Yesterday when I saw how shallow Gemelo's breathing was, and how cool his skin felt, I knew what was happening.  His time had come to go. We made him as comfortable as possible and he died during the night.  In many ways it was a happy ending for Gemelo who had lived a rough life out there fighting for himself.  But here, even though he was a pain in the ass at feeding time, we are saddened.  Gemelo died during the night of November 8, 2011.  I hope he rests in peace.  Losing a pet is difficult, and when your pets are such an integral part of our daily lives around here, it makes for one sad ending. 

Gemelo's favorite thing was to go outside after a rain and lick all the water off the leaves.  He did it as if it were his job to clean up all that sitting water.  He was a very sweet cat, once he felt at home here.

Onward to happier endings.  Remember this little angel?

The one someone threw into my carport?  She brought so much life to the two other kittens we are fostering. They'd been alone since birth, Mimi and Guera, and were quite afraid of the world in general.  This little darling obviously had a familiy for her first few weeks, because she was completely adjusted when I found her in the carport and thought it was Guera.  It was just raining cats that week. This kitten taught them to play, she trusted us immediately and that intrigued Mimi and Guera.  They came out to play. The three of them had a blast. But we could not keep the little kitten.  Our commando is closed, full to over the limit already. 

Mimi the animal rescuer (to differentiate from Mimi the kitten) took the little one to Planned Pethood and she was adopted within a couple days to a family excited about how fun and frisky she was.  We missed her a lot, and so did Mimi and Guera miss their playmate, but then they started playing together and things have just gotten better with them.  They both strut around with their tails riding high, meaning they are happy.  Guera has taken to the human lovin' thing and comes to ask for petting and 'acarísias' in Spanish.  This little kittie was the best thing that could have happened to the other two, other than of course their being rescued and cared for so well from the beginning of their little lives.  They learned how to play.  Thanks to our temporary visitor who we never even named, because she has already positively affected the lives of others at the age of just 5 weeks!  I hope her new family is good to her.  This unexpected surprise at the house turned out to be a happy ending for all involved.

The house has been quite cat active lately. Maybe it's in the air. Maybe it's the asteroide. Who knows?  I won't bore you with details of Lorenza's little seizure, or Weasel's two day jaundice.  I just wish I hada more knowledge and possibly a veterinary doctor's certificate.

Cats, Cats, Cats: Last Part!

So what is going to happen to these little darlings?  Mimi the cat rescuer believes she can take the little angel to a place where she will be quickly adopted on or around Monday of next week.

Guera and little Mimi will likely be here until around the end of the month, when Mimi the cat rescuer has a potential foster mother who can keep them on a long term basis if needed.

Gemelo, I forgot to mention in yesterday's post, is one of the feral-gone-domestic cats who weaseled his way into the commando.  And we are hoping to get some deworming meds for the entire commando next week.  He is first on the agenda because he steals the rest of the commando's food right off their plates while they are eating. The feeding procedure here has become quite complicated and I need to work on that too!  I am hoping the meds help Gemelo because the rest are more courteous and eat their own food, which I now serve on up to 9 separate plates in separate places. It's a circus.

Sometimes when animal caregiving gets a little out of hand, there is help closer than you think. Thanks to those who provided the happiness that having kittens in the house provides, and more thanks to all those folks like Jill, Sylvia, Mimi and a host of others who help to make it all work, so I can continue to love and support the commando in charge.

Just a few more shots of these darling kitties: Indulge me. I'm done with today's cat story.

Mimi comes out from under the bed!

 Allows some petting, please excuse the photo angle, it's too late at night to edit now.

Guera purrs while she enjoys her petting session.

Cats, Cats, Part 2

A couple of weeks ago a good friend of mine with a part-time (for now) home in Mérida contacted me and asked if I could help take care of two kittens that a good friend of hers found here, and wants to keep, while renovating HIS Mérida home.  My girlfriend has always been thoughtful and kind to MY cats, visiting them bearing treats...catnip, toys, treats, she has often even contributed to the cost of feeding the resident 9 cat commando here.  Cat lovers always help cat lovers, and of course there is my vocation to fulfill.

Pablo and I agreed to visit and care for the little kittens at the friend's friend's home for several weeks., and we spent a long time with them, trying to relieve some of their fright, see, their mom was a crack ho. Couldn't resist. In the world of cat moms, that is how I saw her - minus the crack, because I DID see her! Every time we left the kitties we felt sad, that they were stuck to each other like glue in a huge cage, and too shy to come out with people around.  Mimi the animal rescuer had been caring for them too, and had made quite a bit of progress, but they had been slow in responding to the concept of TRUSTING people. 

On maybe the fourth day we decided to catnap them.  We had promised to feed and care for them for several weeks.  Although their location was a mere 5 Mérida blocks from my house, if we drove there the one way streets made it seem like a 15 minute drive, and then there would be no parking. We discussed it and decided we had a catproof room where they could reside for their stay most of October.  I had an extra catbox, was provided litter and food, and the best cat toy - the ball spinning around in the wheel. We gathered up the toys we had taken over there, the cats and the accoutrements and brought them to our house.  We didn't take their cage. They needed to work their way out of that cage, and there are animals in our house that would freak out if they saw a big ole' jail!  I pulled out some toys our cats most enjoyed while kittens.  I hung things around the room for them to bat around and destroy.  They came out the first night and played with all the toys, and by the second day had destroyed a couple. Of course they are reparable and the fun begins all over, so no big deal.

We have been trying to spend extra time with them in the room, so they eventually come out from under the bed while we are there.  It's been a challenge, they are so timid.  Here is Guera and Mimi.  Guera means light colored, and the architect named the other one after Mimi, the cat rescuer. 

After the initial hiss, they both will let you hold them and pet them, and blondie is the more outgoing of the two. Mimi is extremely shy, and she doesn't think I'm quite the greatest because I make her take vitamins. If our visit doesn't involve vitamins, she is more tolerant of the petting.  Problem is, whenever we are around, they stay hidden under the bed in the far corner. 

Yesterday I finally had a lighter work schedule and had the time to go into the room and just hang out in there, play with them, just be there. I was reading a great book, but I was exhausted and fell sound asleep.  The screen door to their room had been closed and as far as I knew, the few cats here who can open doors, didn't enter, it's a noisy door and that would have woken me. I heard Pablo say something and heard "Meow! Meow! Meow!" and it was coming from the carport. I ran out to see, still half asleep, and saw Guera!  I grabbed her from under the car and took her back to the room. When I entered, I looked around and under the bed and there they were, Guera and Mimi, just as pictured above.  The cat I picked up was half the size of the two cats we are fostering, scared out of her wits, and wouldn't stop meowing. At first I separated them and put the new kitten outside in the bathroom with water and food. She was too  shook up for that. So Pablo suggested we put them together. It was worth a try. They had mutual hisses and that was that.  Guera and Mimi watched the pint sized kitten immediately go for all the toys and play her little heart out.  She would take a break and walk over for a drink of water and a little snack. Then jump into a new game.  Soon, Guera became interested in this potential playmate.  She has been coming out from under the bed during the day and during our visits.  Mimi I usually have to drag out if I am in there, and she retreats to her corner after she is done tolerating the petting. 

When I found out that was a third kitten I really freaked out.  St.Francis, what on earth do I do?  I absolutely cannot increase size of the commando or adopt another kitten!  Really!  I was trying to come up with reasonable solutions, and panic emailed my animal rescuer friends.  That turned out to be a good idea.

Look at her:

She is clean, has four white paws, and a coral orange colored nose.  She loves to be loved, and can't fall asleep if I am not by her side. She loves to play, alone or with the others.  She is much more active than the other two.  She is likely 5-6 weeks old at the outset. She immediately inspired the other two to become more playful and show a little more trust.  They are co-existing very well and even little Mimi the shy one is coming out during the day to play and check things out.  The new kitten was probably just removed from her mom and a special someone who was giving her attention when that someone threw her into my carport.  This is where the story comes together with yesterday's post......known in the neighborhood as the biggest sucker for kitties.  What started out to be a frightening day for me and a little kitten turned out to be the best thing that could have happened in our situation. 

And this is the state of things today. I have nine cats surrounding me early in the day wanting breakfast, as well as in the evening.  I already mentioned what they can do if I am on the computer. Plus the babies to deal with and the new one is quite vocal.  Mimi the cat rescuer is certain we can easily adopt out the new baby kitty up north somewhere, I can't remember where, I was in shock that the kitten population had increased, and she could move out on Monday.  Mimi brought them more food, and also mentioned she could bring de-wormer for the savage eater, Gemelo, who probably is full of parasites.  Hopefully we can treat more of the kids in the commando.  I have to say that Mimi the animal rescuer is really providing a terrific service to the animals in trouble in this town.  This is not to speak ill of  any of the animal rescuers, there are a lot of people involved in bettering the lives of all the domestic animals here in Mérida.  Two of the organizations doing magnificent work are Evolución and YAPA.  They have made a noticeable difference for the animals in the area and many volunteers work their buns off helping to get the overpopulation under control as well as care for abandoned animals.

Animal Love: Cats, Part One

If you have visited my house or read my blogs these past few years, you know a bit about my love of cats. My inability to say no to a crying kitten staring at me with those innocent eyes. My never ending searches for Buster, who was found, and for Mokito, who is 'still missing'. My willlingness to budget my food and live on bananas, apples, cheese and crackers....oh and peanuts in a shell...for days sometimes just to make sure the cats eat their favorite crunchies and CANNED food! I'm going to blame it on my Catholic upbringing (Gotta blame someone.) Those nuns told me I would have a 'calling' in life, a vocation if you will, which would lead me to the best of the NO OPTIONS life I faced in our Polish Catholic neighborhood in Toledo, Ohio. In 50's and 60's, 'callings' for girls were: 'wife and mother', 'nurse', 'nun' or 'factory worker', if I remember the entire gamut correctly. Obviously I never had a calling because I worked a gamut of careers in my adult life. (Using careers to describe my job history is a stretch, but it is the word I've chosen). I had and still have a strange need to live and work among other cultures and peoples. In some of these places, many many animals need a lot of help, love and care. I'm in one of those places now.

St. Francis of Assissi is still my favorite subject of twelve years of Catholic schooling. HE gave me a calling. I understood that I was to save and feed all the needy animals who crossed my path throughout my lifetime. That is quite a calling and it appears I still own it. A career, no. Becoming a veterinarian was never an option, - see options above. No one would have coupled my love of animals with a career oriented toward that interest, e.g. veterinarian, there wasn't any such counseling. I'm only realizing now that there were quite a few interests I could have pursued, but didn't know of any avenues to get there in the early 60's.

Since I wasn't allowed pets as a kid, in my yard I made friends with squirrels, nightcrawlers, caterpillars, bumble bees, and butterflies; years later in my underwater life - moray eels, reef fish, jellyfish, sea cucumbers and nurse sharks. With the cats, though, I may have taken this calling a little too far. I say that because now I have the moniker of  (crazy)(old) cat woman. That's how I feel sometimes too, when I am caught talking out loud to my furry friends. People around the neighborhood all seem to know that I take care of a lot of cats. I don't suppose my frequent purchases of whiskas pouches, occasionally canned tuna, and bags of cat crunchies give me away a few doors down at the Dunasusa store(plecios chinos, plecios balatos).

The love between animals and the people they own can be beautiful and fulfilling. A little creature who trusts you 100% and knows when you are sick or stressed and thus sits by your side trying to console you in their kitty (or doggy - no bias here, it's just that this is supposed to be about cats) ways. A creature you can cuddle and cry with and they look at you with equally saddened eyes, as if to say, "Don't cry, I am here for you and I love you." I quite appreciate having a human mate who comforts me during those times, don't get me wrong, but the extra love from one's pets is special, it must warm a separate part of our hearts or souls.

Ok, sorry. Here is the story I want to tell. You would think I would edit out all that crap above, but no, I don't think so - it seems to have fused into the story itself.  A little excessive for a lead in, but these are true feelings I have and doubt I have ever expressed them this way. When my 'human mate' is away from home, I never feel alone because I still have the love of the animals around me.

And as you can see, I mean LITERALLY around me. I took this photo a few weeks ago and I have since changed computer desk and location and have placed their pillows on the stools and table near me but away from the keyboard, mouse and screen. But these cats actually sit with me while I spend many hours on the computer. Things only get ugly when they demand a mid-afternoon treat - it's a power move, they don't get afternoon snacks around here - but if I don't respond they start sending faxes, make me hit the mouse when I am not in the right spot, walk across the keyboard, or my favorite -change the settings. Moka turns off the volume. They change settings I don't even know about, but they know just which button to hit...what am I to do?  Off I go to give them a snack, so I can then restore my settings and continue with whatever I was doing, and shortly everyone is back in their favorite spots to sleep away the day as I keep on workin'. After resetting the buttons they hit during the power move, that is. How many friends would quietly stay by your side for 8 hours at a time? Animal love is special.