The cats are driving me crazy. Gray Guy spent the morning wandering because he's getting bolder. This lead to numerous run-ins with my other moggies who are still being pissy. GG wanted to follow Saffy and Jetta around, but they weren't having any part of it. He would wail and wail and wail. I thought at first he was frustrated because he wanted to play and they wouldn't play with him. He's been getting more playful. But on second thought, I suspect it has nothing to do with playing. I think he's horny. And he'll get no joy from this pack of females.

The bad news -- he sprays. I caught him spraying this morning. I was really, really, really happy that I no longer had males that sprayed. Knobby was the last problem sprayer I had. It's been so nice not to have stinky pieces of cardboard around as shields and not having to worry about protecting the bookshelves and filing cabinets.

So if GG stays, he gets fixed plenty quick. Not that getting fixed is any guarantee to stop the spraying, but I don't want my other males to get bad ideas because of him.

There's more talking and wailing and little spats tonight. I'm locking him up in the Cave at night as a precaution. He likes it in there anyway and oftens goes in there to sleep on the pillow during the day. GG and Jetta are chirping at one another now, having some sort of get-acquainted discussion. No more peace for me for the immediate future.

The settling-in process continues. Theseus is being rather hissy about the Gray Guy. Zoe touched noses with him once, but remains shy of him. I gave GG and the rest of the Horde some canned food. He didn't seem to recognize what it was. He had to think about it for a few minutes before he decided to try eating it. He wandered around the office crying plaintively tonight, maybe feeling a bit lost. I petted him up and reassured him.

When I went out to do errands after lunch, I put up a few notices around town for a found cat. I didn't give a description, though, because whoever calls will have to give me the description. I'm not giving this little guy up to anyone unless I'm absolutely convinced it's his person.

I'm not entirely surprised to say that one of my ex-neighbor's cats has shown up at our house again. It's Tom the Limping Tabby. That leaves two possibilities. One is that the ex-neighbor lied and didn't take him with her. But I checked around with a couple of other neighbors, one of whom feeds cats, and they haven't seen him around. Or he may have come all the way back on his own. That would be quite a distance for a cat with a bad paw. As the crow flies, maybe only four miles, but in terms of the real terrain it's difficult and dangerous. He looked to be in good condition. At any rate, he's welcome to stay. I don't know how to get in touch with the ex-neighbor and damned if I'm going to bother trying.

I'm a softie. We all know that by now. I let Gray Guy out to roam around the office at will during the day. He explored the back half of the office, but Jetta gave him such a hard time that he went into hiding. What cracks me up is how reactionary cats become when they're in a tiff. Theseus was bent out of shape over the Gray Guy, so what does he do? He turns around and launches into a fist fight with Puck. Amazingly, Puck has caused the least trouble with the new boy so far.

After a short period of hiding, Gray Guy explored some more, after which he retreated to the Cave to sleep off the afternoon. There continue to be minor hissy fits and the occasional growl from the other moggies and from him, but nothing serious.

He relaxed enough during the day to let me comb the rest of the stickers out of his tail. I got him to play with a cat toy on a string. He's been exploring my side of the office tonight. At the moment, he's gotten up on my desk and is checking it out.y777777777777

Ah, he just walked on the keyboard. Now Jetta and he are having a little face-off. I'll bet it won't take more than a couple of days before they're playing together.

The gray boy is settling in very nicely. I don't think I heard a single growl all day. But I'm wary of letting him out until he's been checked by a vet and had shots, which I don't want to do until I determine whether anyone's looking for him. The problem is, I hate to keep him cooped up for that long. Such a conundrum. He seems healthy enough, other than few nicks around the neck and shoulder area, most likely from having to fight off the neighborhood cats.

He sure is a sweetheart. He talks to me and he rolls over happily to let me rub his belly. He's such an affectionate cat, which means he must have been treated well prior to this. Tomorrow I need to get out, pick up a local paper and check the local store for "lost cat" posters and so on. I should also put up a "found cat" poster, come to think of it.

Bast has decreed I shall never go very long without acquiring another cat. It was early twilight, around 8 pm. I was watching the big orange and white feral, Bowie, through the front window as he came by for his evening meal. I saw him react to something, then hiss at what had to be another cat coming around the corner of the porch.

I went outside to maintain law and order. I saw a sweet little gray face peer around the corner. Bowie ran off. A small, fluffy silver-gray cat with yellow eyes immediately ran right up to me and demanded love. I petted him up and showed him to the food, then called for Randy. The gray boy (as I determined he was) was extremely hungry, but he wasn't the least bit bothered by Randy and me petting him as he ate. This is clearly a very tame cat, not at all feral. He's not terribly skinny, so if he's lost, it hasn't been for too long. He does have some grass and seeds stuck in his fluffy tail. His fur is exquisitely soft.

We're having a cold snap, so we decided we'd better hold onto him in case he didn't return. I don't know how well a cat this tame could fend for himself, plus he seems rather young. I'm guessing maybe 8-10 months, since he's still pretty small. Or he could just be a small cat.

He was totally relaxed when I picked him up and carried him to the office. He's not thrilled about being in the Cave. There's been a growl-fest going on. After about 20 minutes, he somehow got out and I had spats breaking out. I was able to catch him and pick him up with no trouble, further indicating how tame he is. He's back in the Cave with the narrow slot on the side blocked up, which is the only way I can figure he escaped.

I'm hoping he has people who are looking for him. I put the word out to Lolette and a few other local pet rescue people in case they get inquiries. I'll keep an eye out around the neighborhood and make some inquiries myself. He sure is a sweetheart.

I'm in major crunch mode finishing up a large, complex book project, so I haven't had time to write about moggies. They're all fine and dandy and keeping us entertained. Puck has had a few too many Naughty Moments when he was picking on Ariel or Saffy or Diva or whoever. I haven't found the time to finish the Theseus Shearing Epic, but I definitely need to.

As I was driving up to my house, I saw a cat that was almost a twin of Sapphire. Extremely similar tortie markings and somewhat similar in shape and size. I figure if it wasn't her mother, it's a half-sister.

Speaking of Saffy, she just finished a long session in my lap. When she vacated a minute ago, Zoe moved in and has her chin resting on my right arm, apparently unfazed by her head being constantly jiggled as I type.

Randy was a happy, happy man earlier this evening when both Opal and Pippin climbed into his lap. They rarely do that any more, preferring that only one of them have the entire lap rather than sharing.

Zoe wanted an extended play session of Fetch the Fishie which would have been fine, but she discovered she could bat the fishie beneath the plastic filing box that holds my monitor. The box has feet so that it sits an inch off the desk. This meant that Zoe had to sprawl her body across my keyboard to go reaching for the fishie she had just batted out of reach. This in turn meant my keyboard was pushed into my lap over and over again. She gets away with this because she is so blasted cute.

I didn't get a chance to finish the Great Denuding job on Theseus. It's probably better to give him more time to decompress anyway. Here's how he looks at the moment, with half his back shaved.

I tortured poor Theseus today, though he did his share of torturing, too. I knew this would be difficult, so I gave him a trank ahead of time. It didn't help much. I cut off the worst of the matted hair with scissors, then I got out the heavy-duty shaver. Trying to hold onto him is a feat. With most cats, there's plenty of loose skin at the back of the neck where you can get a good grip. Not Theseus. He's so grossly fat, it's nearly impossible to get a grip on anything. It's like he has no neck. I managed to get a good portion of him shaved and some of the worst stuff off his butt area, but there is more yet to do. I'll have to work on him again tomorrow. He got very pissed off toward the end, so I want to give him time to cool off.

I was also hissed at by Ariel. She was in the box she likes to sleep in and I pushed a bit too hard on trying to reach in and pet her. She let me know it in no uncertain terms. Touch me and die, human!

At least the rest of my moggies are sweet and adorable, though Puck kept trying to push the keyboard into my lap while I was playing an on-line game.

Theseus' fur is totally out of control again. It's a hideous, matted mess beyond the help of any comb or brush. And his butt is...I will spare you the description, but he stinks. I must break out the scissors and see what I can do. I actually had it under control for a while there. Sigh...

It appears Saffy has inherited the paper-eating gene as well. I found her sitting inside a cardboard box tearing off bite-sized chunks from the edges.

We saw Smokey the Siamese and Bowie this afternoon. The outside food is disappearing rapidly, so I'd say our ferals are coming around on a regular basis now. We haven't seen the lovely tabby again though.

Pippin and Jetta are not much alike in temperament, and only similar in coloring (black with hints of white), but they both inherited the paper-eating gene. Pippin loves to play in cardboard boxes which he then tears apart in bite-sized pieces. Jetta has a taste for paper of any kind -- the papers on my desk, my file folders, cardboard boxes...she's an office menace!

We were visited by a new feral last night, a young tabby. I'm guessing six to eight months old. He/she has a beautiful face, quite elegant, that reminds me of Zoe. I was coming into the house around 11 pm from my office, noticed the outside bowl was empty and knelt down to add some food when I saw the feral. He was only about five feet away near the corner of the porch and didn't run off. After he ate, Randy went onto the porch and talked to him and he tolerated that, so he's fairly bold. With luck he'll keep coming by and we can nab him to be fixed.

We had a brief and unexpected thunderstorm pass through our valley this afternoon, bringing rain, thunder and lightning. It was delightful and cooled down the day. The moglets, however, were not happy. They hadn't experienced thunder before and they weren't sure they liked it at all.

I have to admit, the rest of my moggies are a great deal more relaxed and happy with Gizmo gone. Let's see, currently I have Puck to my left, Zoe in my lap, Kate across the top of the keyboard and Tosca to the right of the keyboard. Earlier, Puck decided that one of the keys was made of catnip and wanted to make love to it or eat it, he couldn't decide which.

Bowie is coming by regularly again. It may be pure coincidence, but he only started showing up again after the neighbor's cats were gone.

Gizmo has gone home with his people. They came by again today and definitely wanted him back, so amidst much pleasantry and many thanks for taking care of him, off he went. He's rejoining the rest of his familiar cat family, so it may be for the better. He wasn't all that thrilled about my cats.

Opal is such a burrower. Maybe it's a tortie thing. She did just what Nefreet used to do and burrowed under the green blanket on the bed. She'll burrow under the extra pillows on the sofa, and she'll burrow into Randy's back. Such a funny girl.

There's a new wrinkle in the neighbor cat situation. They didn't actually go off and abandon the cats. They've been coming back to get them and have now taken Salem, Duncan and Tom to whatever new home they have. And they're looking for Gizmo (as I heard from a neighbor), though why the hell they haven't come to see me is a mystery. If there's anyone they should have come to, it would be me, yet they haven't come by or said a word. Salem and Gizmo practically lived in my yard. They know we petted them, fed them and enjoyed their company. Wouldn't it be logical to inquire here first?

Which places me in an ethical quandry. I don't have the right to hold onto a cat that belongs to someone else when they're making an honest effort to find him. I don't know how to contact them, either. All I can do at this point is wait and see if they show up here again.

Meanwhile, Gizmo has been doing fine. I let him out of the Cave first thing this morning and he's been napping in the same spot on top of some boxes. He continues to avoid or hiss at the other cats. I've managed to keep Puck away from him, so things have been quiet. At the moment, he's exploring the communal food bowls, which is rather brave of him. He hissed at Kate, silly boy. Kate, most harmless of moggies.

Very sad that Salem is no longer around. I hope they take good care of him. We haven't seen Duncan either, so we don't know whether he's still here.

Bowie is back!!! He's the feral that we trapped and neutered, who has the blue eye and gold eye. Long haired orange and white cat. We didn't see him all winter and all spring until finally today he showed up again today. We also got a visit the other night from Smokey, the Siamese feral we TNR. Spring is bringing them back out, it would seem.

I decided to let Gizmo out of the Cave today. I left the door open this morning, so he could come out when he was ready. He didn't wait long. He began cautiously to explore, with the occasional hiss. As I feared, within five mintues Puck jumped him and was chasing him around the office. I broke that up quickly as Gizmo went into hiding. Then I gave Puck a trank and let him mellow out for the rest of the day. That worked pretty well. Gizmo explored much of the office, though he avoided the other cats and they avoided him. Gizmo answered me when I called him to check on him during the day. He talks. He likes to give head butts, too. I think I'll let him spend the nights in the Cave until I'm sure there won't be too many fights going on when I'm not here to mediate.

I was very pleased to see Duncan on our porch eating late last night when I came into the house from my office. He ran off when I approached, but at least he knows the food and water is there.

On less happy news, the crazoids returned to haul a bunch more stuff they'd left behind in the garage, with the manager of the property standing watch. Randy said the male half was trying to catch Salem. We don't know whether he succeeded, but we haven't seen Salem since. I'm not at all happy and Randy is even more upset, because he was building such a nice relationship with Salem. It's now hours later with no sign of Salem, so we must assume he's been taken away.

I had a nice love session with Gizmo, who is a sweet, affectionate cat. He rolled onto his back so I could scritch his belly and he purred a little. When he was an outdoors cat, he was the friendliest of the bunch, always ready to be petted, unlike Salem who is extremely skittish. Gizmo continues with the hissing, but I think there was slightly less of it today.

After two days with no sign of Duncan, he finally showed up across the street late this afternoon. I grabbed some chicken scraps and a cat carrier and went over there hoping to catch him. He wouldn't let me get close, nor did he show interest in the chicken. He finally got tired of me and wandered to the next house down the street, where he may be hanging out.

About fifteen minutes later, he was back at the old house. I took over some dry food to try again. Salem showed up. Then Tom and Harley showed up. I haven't mentioned her other cat, Harley, because my dog lady neighbor (who seems to know every bit of gossip about the neighborhood) said Harley had gone off and adopted some other people. I was relieved to hear that because there's no way I could take in Harley. He's a gorgeous cat. I think his crazy owner said he was an F2 Bengal or something like that. At any rate, he's huge. And dominant. With the rest of the cats showing up, I was unable once again to get near Duncan. He seems okay, though rather dirty. I'd still like to catch him and let him be an indoor cat. Based on what the crazy owner told me, he must be around 13 and that's getting up there. What I probably should do is go to that house where Harley and Duncan seem to be hanging out and find out whether the people there have adopted them.

My other next door neighbor came by this morning when she heard me calling for Salem and Duncan. She wondered if one of the cats I was looking for was orange because an orange cat was just killed by a car down the street. The crazy neighbor did have an indoor orange cat called Nugget. My dog lady neighbor said that Nugget got out and ran away. I don't know any more than that, but it's a possibility that it was Nugget who was killed. Sigh...

The crazy neighbors also had two enormous Great Dane puppies (about 8-9 months old now) and one of them escaped from the yard and was killed by a car only a week or so ago. Obviously, responsibility for animals was not their strong suit.

I haven't seen Duncan at all since he was abandoned, though my next door neighbor said she saw him. I really hope he comes around for food. I've petted him in the past, but not any time recently.

This morning I heard a cat fight, so I ran outside and had to rescue Salem from Tom. Tom had him cornered. He ran off when I came up. Tom may have a deformed paw, but he's still a tough guy. It doesn't slow him down one bit. Salem then ran back to the house with me. We're slowly drawing him into a closer orbit. Tom, however, may end up going his own way. I don't think there's much we can do with him.

Gizmo is not calming down much. He continues to growl, snarl, hiss and bat at the other cats through a hole in the Cave if they get too close. He sure loved getting a bit of canned food tonight, though. He inhaled it. He's eating well now and has finally used the cat box. I took off his collar, which had a large annoying tag (the info on which is defunct), so that the wounds under his chin wouldn't be aggravated and could heal better.

Not sure whether I mentioned it before, but Gizmo is young. I think he's barely two years old at best, so he should have enough time to calm down. I hope.

The other cats don't get what Gizmo's problem is. They're perplexed and agitated. I've had a couple of Cat Grenades go off just because they're all so twitchy at the moment.

Working late, exhausted, so quick update. One of the neighbors spotted Duncan, the older white and black cat, so he's around. I've gone looking for him a couple of times and keep calling him, but I haven't seen him yet. He's friendly, but shy.

Randy said Tom the Limping Tabby (he has a deformed front paw) came around for food last night. Tom is very friendly, but quite independent, so I'm not worrying about him too much.

Salem is becoming a real lover-boy. Randy can even get him to drool!

In the house, Pippin has taken to perching in the front window to watch Salem.

I got into the Cave a couple of times today to comfort Gizmo, who is hiding in the deepest, darkest corner and is not a happy camper. Late this afternoon, I went to give him a scratch under the chin and discovered he has an injury there. It looks like he must have been in a fight in the past couple of days and has bites under his chin. I got out the cotton balls, peroxide & water solution and the Neosporin. He let me know when it hurt, and it did, but he didn't try to do anything about it. He was a very good boy. I cleaned it up and put on the Neosporin. Poor little guy. No wonder he's in such a bad mood. I don't think it will abscess, thank Bast.

The other moggies wander over to the Cave occasionally, get hissed at, look confused and wander off.

Laboring under a heavy deadline, so this must be quick. Evidently the owners of the house across from us were deadly serious about the neighbors being out. At 10:30 am, the owners showed up with two Sheriff's deputies, but the neighbors had pulled away with an apparently final truckload a half hour earlier. I told the owners about the cats and that we would take care of them. They seemed fine with that.

The dog, I noticed, was gone. But it looks like we've inherited Salem, Gizmo and Duncan. I haven't seen Tom, the limping tabby, for a while now, so I don't know whether he's still around. Salem has been sticking close to us and soaking up every bit of affection he can get.

I last saw Duncan, the older black and white cat, this morning. I'm hoping he shows up for food soon. Poor little Gizmo was hanging out at their front door, lost and alone. I set up the Cave and brought him over. He wasn't at all happy about being brought inside with a bunch of new cats. There was growing and hissing. The other cats are circling the Cave at some distance, going "what the hell?" I have no idea whether Gizmo can be absorbed into the Horde. I can but try. If not, he becomes an outdoor at again.

The neighbors have to be out by tomorrow and I hear through the grapevine that their stuff is going into storage and they'll probably be living in a motel until they find a new place. I can't see any motel accepting a Great Dane and four cats. The woman is so crazy that nobody can deal with her right now, so I have no idea what will happen to the lovely animals. Will she simply abandon them?

I'm in regular contact with the neighbor to one side of us who is a serious dog lover (she has three) and we've agreed that if the Dane, who is tethered, is left there tomorrow, we will have to take some kind of action. She can't tell whether the poor thing has been fed for the past few days. The cats are able to come here for food, so they're less of a worry. I have to say, I'm growing heartily sick of having to worry about other people's pets.

Zoe is perched on the monitor staring at invisible Zweerdles in the air above her. Zweerdles are those little invisible things flittering in the air that only cats can see.

The crazy neighbors are moving out. Poor Salem has been desperate for attention. He even let me pick him up and cuddle him today, for the first time. I haven't seen any sign of Gizmo or her other cats. The poor Dane puppy is utterly ignored. People like that have no business having animals. I could just go over and ask the woman what she intends to do about her animals, but she becomes irrational and unpleasant at the drop of a whisker, so I prefer to avoid her.

Opal and Sapphire are losing interest in playing fetch. They still do a bit here and there, but not with the enthusiasm of a kitten.

I did a huge amount of cleaning up the papers on my desk, which meant a lot of filing afterwards. I was heaving the heavy file drawers open and shut before I stopped to think about Ariel, who spends most of her time in a box on top of the filing cabinet. It's her bed and hideout. I looked up there and she was squinting madly at me, a sure sign that she was stressed out about the noise and movement, not to mention having a human being way too close to her. She took off a minute later and hid somewhere else. But now she's happily curled up in a cat bed off to my right, not all that far away, so it couldn't have too traumatic.

Puck was having fits about getting outside this morning. I couldn't blame him as it was a gorgeous morning -- sunny and warm, but with the perfect touch of coolness. Randy was doing a spot of yardwork, so it seemed like a good opportunity to let Puck have some time in the great outdoors (or rather minor outdoors, in this case). I stayed out there with them and spent ten or fifteen minutes pulling weeds. The weeds are already rampant.

Puck was in heaven. Dirt baths! Grass to eat! He was very good about staying in the yard and close to us. Then it happened. Exactly the thing we were afraid of. We're the second home to Salem and Gizmo, our neighbor's black cats (both fixed males) and they hang out on our front porch much of the time. Puck spotted Salem on the porch and in a heartbeat he raced forward and attacked. They went at it with fur flying everywhere. It's impossible to handle Puck at all when he's in that state, so I wasn't having much luck breaking it up. Finally Salem sprinted across the yard, over the fence, across the road to home. Puck, thank Bast, stopped at the fence. Then he retreated under the front porch. We had to let him calm down for a while before he was safe to handle again. Once he had calmed down and come out on his own, I took him back into the office, making sure he didn't turn around and attack another cat as soon as he got there.

I checked him over thoroughly a short time later, looking for bite or claw marks that could cause an abscess. He purred like a diesel engine. This is a cat that never purrs. At least, not audibly. Sometimes you can feel a purr deep inside, but not that you can hear. This was the loudest purr I've ever heard from him.

So let me get this straight -- to get an audible purr out of Puck, I have to let him beat up another cat. Yeah, right.

Getting back to Salem and Gizmo, I got disturbing news this afternoon. These neighbors are being evicted and have to be out by Mon. It's bad enough that they have three young kids being evicted with them, but then there are the animals. They have a huge Great Dane puppy not yet a year old, four outside cats and at least one inside cat. We love Salem and Gizmo. They're sweet, affectionate cats that we've been feeding and petting for the past couple of years. Her older cat, Duncan, and a tabby with a malformed paw named Tom are also very nice cats who visit us from time to time. I'm worried about what will happen to their cats. Since they're already outside cats, we could continue to feed them and take care of them, but I'm equally worried about taking on the extra responsibility.

Salem was on the porch when I came out to my office this evening. He wanted lots and lots of attention, which I gave him. He isn't hurt, I'm happy to say. He stayed underfoot up to my office door. "You wouldn't want to go in there!" I warned him. Puck must have had a bad experience with a black cat when he was a kitten, because he has a nasty attitude toward black cats now. If it weren't for that, I'd seriously consider letting Salem and Gizmo inside to join the Horde.

What a sucky situation.

Zoe went crazy over my hair today. She has the same Pantene-obsession that Puck does. There's something myterious in that shampoo.

Theseus' fur has reached that concrete mat stage again where no comb or brush in the known universe is of any use. I fear about the only solution when it gets like is plain old scissors. Just cut it off. He looks grotty for a while afterwards, but it's either that or the Dreadlocks from Hell.

Happy unofficial Birthday to Zoe! She is now one year old, but as much of a kitten as ever. I was scanning a huge stack of documents yesterday, which meant having to grab a piece of paper from a pile, put it in the scanner, remove it from scanner and put it into the completed pile. Zoe just wanted top play fetch. It became a pattern of throw toy, pick up paper, put in scanner, Zoe returns with toy, throw toy, scan document, throw toy, remove paper from scanner and put in new page, throw toy...etc. She's such delightful, bouncing bit of furry joy that I don't really mind.

Ah, Ariel is curled up in a cat bed right behind me. As a good friend said in email yesterday, "Ariel is slowly sneaking up on you." {g}

Or go to Archive Index Page