Homeless Cat -- Now Spotacus' Legacy

After losing Czarny, and then Spousal Unit having one medical issue after another, we were not planning on adopting another cat(s) until after his hip replacement. The cat distribution system had other plans.

While working at the library on 17 Oct, a librarian asked if anyone within hearing range wanted a cat. Seems a cat was in the butterfly garden, approaching humans and being very, very friendly. The librarians, having experienced this often, figured the cat had been abandoned in the library vicinity. No one took her up on the offer, but several offered to feed the cat and put up adoption/foster notices on social media.

At library close, I headed out to my pickup. I heard a cat talking long before I got there. Sure enough, a ginger kitten of about 8 months was sitting under a tree near my pickup. And I made an enormous mistake.

I opened a passenger side door to put some stuff inside, then turned and found kitty close enough to touch. He insisted on being petted, rolling on my feet and talking incessantly. I got distracted and didn’t close the door. After a bit of quality kitty time, I turned back to the truck, and now there was a cat inside. Okay, then — looks like I've been adopted.

When I closed the door, he looked like he might have regretted being in the pickup. He panicked and started zooming all around the inside. I gave him a few minutes, until he slowed down, then quickly got inside. Soon as I started the engine, he stopped zooming and parked on the back seat. He stayed there, yakking all the way home.

I called Spousal Unit to advise him we’ve been adopted. He had the front door open, ready to quickly close it as soon as I got Kitty inside. I pulled up right beside the porch, so there would be as little transfer time as possible. I slipped out the door and went around to the passenger side, but Kitty decided to decamp to the driver’s side, under the pedals. Sigh.

A few treats and pleasant talk, and I finally got a good grip. Upon being released in the house, Kitty dashed behind the love seat, still talking. He eagerly came out for an entire can of wet food, then discovered the dry food. He talked to us off and on (mostly on) until we went to bed, first from behind the love seat, then from under our bed.

He showed absolutely no interest in the outside world. He would not go near an outside door, staying pretty much in the center of the house.

He does like to talk, and loves him some pettins. Not real big on being held and doesn’t quite understand being in a lap, although he’s showing a lot of interest there.

So one kitty makes himself home with us on 16 Oct. He named himself Ian, after he perked up and answered when we mentioned a friend by name.

On 28 Oct, I headed to Petsmart for kitten food, a toy or two, and some litter. Came home with all that, a new carrier and a kitten.

Yep, the cat distribution system thought we needed yet another ginger kitten. The 8-week-old little thing got washed out of a pickup’s under carriage in a car wash. The employees caught the terrified little bit, wrapped him in a tee shirt, then didn’t know what to do. They needed to get back to work, and so were going to release him in the field next to the car wash.

A customer said give him to her, and she promptly went to Petsmart. The vet clinic there checked him out, and other than covered in fleas and car wash muck, he was okay. Lee Ann (pretty name) walked around the store, getting a few folks interested in either fostering or adopting the kitten.

Then I wheeled my cart by and the kitten made its decision. Well, crap, I’m going home with another one. Bought a smaller carrier for a one-pound kitten and brought him home. Even though he’d chosen, he was still right spicy and hissy.

Drowning fleas on a wiggly little acrobat was interesting, but I managed. Then we put him into a big cage in the great room. Ian noticed him a couple hours later. They sniffed each other pretty thoroughly, silently, and Ian gently reached through the bars to touch Baby on the head. Then Ian laid beside the cage for several hours. No issues at all.

Next day, Baby got his first shots and a drop of flea/tick/mosquito killer. He spent several days in the cage, where he could safely watch us and Ian, and get over being all hissy with the humans. When we finally let him out, he proved to be a real gymnast, so that became his name, Gym.

He’s nearly trebled his weight since arrival, climbed all over everything he can reach, and shredded the dryer vent hose connection to the outside vent. I’ll need help moving the dryer out to fix that, so I’m drying the laundry outside.  He adores Ian, who is the most patient cat I've ever had.  He tolerates everything Gym tries with him.

At the moment, Gym is trying to nap on my arm. Makes typing a challenge.

Here they are, Ian on the left and Gym on the right: