Day 8 – We have housed more cats than I can count now after more than 30 years of marriage and living almost 30 years in our house on Kansas. We started with two kitties when we moved here and it wasn’t a year until the cycle began when we were to begin either fostering or adopting the strays who were to come our way. One time, we had as many as eight fur babies living with us, because we had adopted a mama and her three baby boys. That was an exciting time for our house!
We are quite comfortable right now with our two. We recently laid to rest our Lacey, so two is where we are. Until a few days ago. Dang it! An adorable black and white kitten somewhere between nine and ten months of age came squabbling at our door looking for love and food. My oh my did this fellow have some vocal chords on him! We really had hoped he belonged to the new neighbors who were just moving in catty-corner to us across the street. I had seen the little girl just loving on the little guy like they were long lost friends. But no, after speaking with Mom, Dad hates cats, so that wasn’t the case. Yeowler kept coming back to our house desperately wanting in. After seeing him standing in the street while traffic whizzed by, I talked with my husband and we decided the little fellow would be much safer in our back yard than risking it out “there.” it was clear he had belonged to someone and knew absolutely no fear. Which was terribly disturbing to us. Someone had to have dumped him. Or he had just somehow gotten lost. he was SUCH a loving little guy, and of course, he was…a LAP CAT. Wouldn’t you know it. Rarely had we had a lap cat in all of ours, and the two we have now aren’t much of such. But THIS one, OMG!!!! But I get ahead of myself.
Ron opened the side gate and told him to come in. He walked through as though he owned the placed and had only been waiting for such an invitation. I had gotten him a bowl of dry cat food and clean water and that boy chowed down like he hadn’t eaten in a week. And well he may not not. The poor little boy, he was shaking all over purring so hard and gobbling up the food, hitting his mouth on the bowl. I took it away at once point, thinking he should rest his stomach a bit, but he found where I had put the bowl and ate the rest. So much for that idea. He drank some water and then started yeowing at me. I couldn’t think he wanted more, so I sat down in one of the patio chairs, as that was where we decided to camp him for the time being. He jumped up in my lap and the rest was history. He was ALL over me, loving on me, giving me kisses, crawling around my neck, turning and turning around in my lap, the motor in his throat going so loud I thought the cats in the house could certainly hear him. They were certainly captivated with every move he made, especially Morgan, my Maine Coone. She is ‘my’ girl and I am ‘hers’ so I didn’t think this was going to go very well. He finally settled down in my lap and fell asleep. I petted him awhile but I couldn’t stay there forever, well, I could but not really, you know what I mean. So I picked him up and he settled back down in my chair and cuddled down in the warmth I had left. I had arranged pillows and a blanket on the porch swing, thinking he would find comfort in that little cave, but at the moment he just needed to sleep right where he was. And sleep he did. For hours and hours.
Skip ahead about four days. Zeke, yes, Zeke, had adapted to quite a little routine, most of which included a very loud yeowing when he wanted something – either food or me. I always name the cats a human name and why this one was Zeke, I’ll never know, but it seemed to fit for the time. We had arranged a couple of patio chairs around with pillows and towels and a blanket to make a little fortress because there had been a hefty storm and we wanted him protected. He seemed to appreciate it. He slept through it without a problem. He seemed to go out and about during the night and come back for breakfast, and then sleep til about 1:00. Toby didn’t seem to be bother by him at all, but as Zeke was well “in tact” he would soon be spraying Toby’s domain. We were going to have to do something about Zeke pretty soon. Morgan, on the other hand, was not at all happy with his presence. No surprise there.
Ron called the local rescue organization and they were great. They instructed us to take Zeke to the local shelter and the organization would pick him up and find him a home. It might be local, but it also might be a case of shipping him out to another state where kitties where in need of adoption. So, last Saturday morning, we gathered Zeke up, with tears in our eyes (how to people foster animals and not get attached to them?????) we took him out to the shelter. NOT without a huge conniption fit from Zeke. Holy cow! For as much of a love as he was OUTSIDE the carrier, he turned into the cat from hell INSIDE the carrier. Boy was he mad.
I placed him on a counter when we got inside and had gone into another room because I couldn’t calm him and I was crying like a baby anyway. When I came back, he was really quiet. I asked one of the people there what had happened and she said that he must have seen the dog pass through. Ha! Yes, that would do it. From then on, he was himself, although not happy to be in the carrier. For all I knew, the last time he had been in one was when someone had taken him to dump him on our street. Who knew.
After Ron had filled out the paperwork, the shelter worker came out and asked if he was sweet, and I told her that he definitely was. I took him out of the carrier and he glommed onto me, arms around my neck. I hugged him and kissed him and handed him over to the lady. He took to her right away, so I knew she really liked animals. She said that he was going to go up front, so I thought “wow, maybe he will be adopted right away before he ever goes to New Beginnings!” There wasn’t much use hanging around, so we thanked her profusely and said good bye to Zeke. We got out to the car and I just broke down.
I just fall in love with these guys and saying good bye just kills me. And not just me, I come to find out. My dear husband called out to the shelter today to find out how Zeke was doing! New Beginnings already picked Zeke up, so he is on his way to some new home somewhere!
3 thoughts on “What to do about Zeke?”
Awe, Robyn, I’m tearing up. I would have been a basket case too. I get so attached as well. Almost all of our kitties have been strays we’ve found. We only have two now. I understand the attachment. I’d struggle to say goodbye too. The worst part about having pets is losing them. ((hug))
Sweet story! My daughter and her girls are just like you. My son-in-law acts tough but he’s really a big softie.
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My heart’s desire since I was little is to have a huge ranch where I can take in ALL strays – animal and human – and give them love and a home. Everyone deserves both! Thank you for your comment!