Two Rescued Cats Join a Happy Family

My brother and his wife have had two cats, Bonnie and Clyde, for eight years.  In addition, they have always put out food for any strays who venture into the yard.  One of those had such remarkable coloring that they gave him a name – Pierre, after Pierre Bezukhov (“earless”), a character in “War and Peace.”  Pierre the cat, while mostly white, had what looked almost like a black beret over one ear.  He stopped by every day for quite a while, and then suddenly disappeared for a few days. Alarmed, my brother scoured the neighborhood, but Pierre was nowhere to be seen.  One day, his wife heard someone softly knocking on the door. She opened the door, and there was Pierre, his mouth and the white ear covered in blood, knocking – not scratching, but knocking! – on the door with a bloody paw.

They picked him up and rushed him to a vet. Poor Pierre, denizen of the garbage dumps, has caught an infection so serious, that he had to have major mouth surgery, in addition to treatments on all four paws and the ear.  He weighed 3 lbs, and had to have special diet and a medication regimen.  He is well now, a respectable 12,5 lbs, and has become a part of the family. Bonnie and Clyde, who at first shied away from a poor sick kitty, finally accepted him.  The white ear, though, has somewhat lost its shape, so now, unfortunately, he does justify the name.

Pierre has a loud, demanding voice. My brother claims that the cat actually curses in Russian. A couple of days after hurricane Sandy hit New York, Pierre was taking a nap on the coach, when suddenly he jumped on the window sill and started frantically hitting the window while loudly cursing – in Russian, according to my brother.  They looked out the window, and there was a fur ball, so tiny that he could barely be seen in the twilight. Of course, they ran out, picked him up, and rushed him to the vet. The little kitten who must have been no more than four weeks old, was probably lost from his house after the hurricane and spent those two or three days desperately looking for a home. He was starving and barely alive. My brother pasted flyers all over the neighborhood, but no one responded. So the little one, named Kiryusha, joined the happy family.

Now Kiryusha is a gorgeous, lively, rambunctious youngster who would race Uncle Clyde back and forth all day, given a chance. Pierre tries to discipline him, verbally and very loudly, but Auntie Bonnie always takes him under her protective motherly paw.

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Guest Star: MEAOW-DESTINY’S CHILD

Hi everyone,

Today’s guest post comes from Ranjeeta and I am afraid tissues will be required. :(:

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With my son Rhishabh under whose bed Meaow used to sleep

“Sheroo stop it.. come back!!  Don’t chase the cat…!”, I vividly remember admonishing my youngest dog Sheroo, as he used to chase ‘Meaow (a stray cat)’ across my lawn and the vegetable garden for one whole year.  But little did I know that I would end up grieving for him later.

While lazing in the shade and enjoying the few me moments with only my dog by my side, I saw the cat cross my garden, but it was limping badly. I tried to go near it but it got scared and limped away as fast its 3 legs could carry him. According to him I was not to be trusted. Here I was a dog owner, whose dogs never lost an opportunity to chase him. Why should he trust ME of all the people…?

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Then after a month it suddenly happened.  My husband had taken the elder two dogs, JW and Simba out in the garden to play and what do they find…!! A cat (Meaow) sitting bang in the centre of the garden and refusing to get up. He panicked and got the dogs inside not wanting a confrontation between both. We decided to let the feline be and took our dogs to our backyard. After that ‘Meaow’ maybe understood that we’ll not be chasing it away and started resting under the ledge of my kitchen window. I would find him there every day. With the mercury rising to 42 degrees, I decided to keep some water/milk for him to drink, thus started our bonding. Now he wouldn’t run away… either he decided to trust me or he was in lot of pain… either way it suited me fine as I could now feed him food as he had visibly reduced to half of his former self.

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Meaow & Me

After 3 days he allowed me to stroke him and reciprocated back with deep purring, a raised tail and rubbing himself against my legs and back. Gradually I had the courage to cuddle him in my lap and he fitted in purrfectly, as if he belonged there. He was old…! Very old. Must have been somewhere between 15-17 yrs. He had only three incisors left, and his claws were either missing or broken at base. A combination of white, black and vandyke brown, light as a feather and beautiful as hell, he was very unique stray cat in appearance and had longish hair, like a Persian cat with flowing tail… He must have been an extremely majestic and handsome cat in his younger days, and to have survived so many years on streets  as a stray is a wonder… A stray doesn’t normally live up to being this old…!!

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But there was a big problem….!! His leg had started to rot, and he had stopped grooming himself. With a cat it is bad news as cats are obsessive self groomers. He had lost control of bladder and bowels. Old age can be torturous for animals, specifically if they are strays. I took him to vet but his condition only worsened… though only silver lining was  that he would recognize my voice and respond to his name ‘Meaow’, (that I had given him in our 20 days of friendship.) He had placed his full trust in me which was phenomenal, and learnt to ignore my dogs (who in turn had accepted him and had learnt to let him be)… Right from cleaning his wounds, to injections at the vet and having a bath he never objected and let me take care of him. In the mornings he used to rest inside the house and evenings he used to roam my lawn.

Going…Going… Gone

Then suddenly he started disappearing and I had to hunt him out for hours only to find him hiding in drains, or resting under bushed hiding away. His voice has become feeble and it was three days since he had eaten anything, not even water. He would go up till the water bowl, make a herculean attempt, and then walk away deciding not to drink.  He had started to waste away. He couldn’t even walk now, and his leg had rotted refusing to heal. And now came the hardest part… euthanizing him….!! He definitely did not deserve to die in a gutter like an unloved and a forgotten stray…! He deserved better. With all the love and trust between us, he deserved to die with dignity of a much loved pet, cuddled in the arms of his humans whom he loved and trusted in his final moments. And that’s what he got. He crossed the rainbow bridge at 6:30 pm, on the Maha-Ashtami day, on 14th April 2016, cuddled safely in my arms, leaving us all in tears. He’s at peace now and lies buried in my garden’s flower bed, where he often used to sit in his last days, as if he had chosen that spot for himself.

However small was our association (hardly 20days)but you’re being missed terribly Meaow…

If I ever have a cat again, then I want it to be you, so that I could love you more.
Rest in Peace ‘Meaow’.. You deserve it.

Don’t forget out to check Purrfectpawesomefurrytales for more stories.

P.S: Not yet subscribed for our Newsletter? Click here!

Thanks,

Marc

Two Red Cats 14 – Princess of the fort

One of the favorite games of Lily and Vitali is the fort” where they basically compete for the right to stay under a large inverted pot. Vitali has dug an entrance, but Lily does not grant him NEVER to enter the fort.

Video bonus: Lily and Vitaly playing the fort game.


Want to see more adventures (and photos!) of the Two Red Cats? Follow them on Facebook! Every day new photos and every week new comic strips!

Cat Travel: Maison de Moggy – The Bengal Brothers

Hi everyone,

They had 2 lovely Bengal Brothers in the cat cafe. We are just not too sure if we actually managed to take photos of one or both of them! 😮

Can you help us identify which of the two we took photos of? 🙂

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Surely the floor isn’t the most comfiest place to sleep on?

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I love my two black / black and white cats but there is just something about the coat of the Bengal cats that’s stunning!

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At last someone has found a far better place to nap! A bed high up near the ceiling. 😉

Now using the info on their website here can you help us guess if we took photos of Marcel or his brother Philippe?

I hope you enjoyed today’s post and are looking forward to finding out more about the other cats that live at Maison de Moggy. 😀

Missed our initial post? No problem it can be found here!

To find out more about Maison de Moggy visit their website or Facebook page. Already made up your mind? You can book a slot here!

And please don’t forget to sign up to our Newsletter.

Thanks,

Marc

Ni-Cat ™ Chapter One of Three

Miss Nickel Catmium, who has appeared here from time to time, has even more of a story than most cats. I keep promising to tell it.

What happened was, as I was heading into the gym one cold icy January morning, a little grey streak detached itself from the long, sharp winter shadows in the car park and squirted off into the jumbled scrub behind the HVAC plant. The gym is the only non-Asian business in a middle-sized village of Vietnamese and Cambodian shops, supermarkets and restaurants, whose management has had to shave the shrubbery repeatedly to thwart rat harborage, so if I were a cat I would hang out there for the pickings.

After a few more sightings I was watching the cat shoot past the front windows one day when Lowry, one of the older trainers, materialized behind me. Lowry’s hair is grey-brown, his voice gravelly; he has thighs for arms and a slight bay window, convex but solid, like the top of a hand packed quart of ice cream.

“Look at that poor little guy freezing out there,” he said. “I wish we could get him in.”

“Me too, but I can’t get close,” I said.

“I always see him when I’m opening up at five.”

“If I bring food and a dish, will you feed him when you see him?”

“Sure, I’ll keep it in the office…” Lowry looked over his shoulder at the day manager, who was obliviously on the phone.

“I’ll put a carrier in the car if you can catch him.”

I sat on the recumbent bike and thought about names. The cat looked like it maybe weighed all of five pounds, which is a nickel in gym terms (as in, “Put a couple more nickels on the bar and see if I can break my PR”), and was about the color of a nickel coin against that day’s snow, at least from a distance. When a cat practically names itself you are in trouble and have to swim with the current. Nonetheless, I really didn’t think Lowry was going to have much luck.

We were both there once at the same time as the cat was, and dished up a whole can of human grade meat onto a picnic plate left over from my past political shenanigans (it was the deep forest green used on the campaign posters and concealed well in the shrubbery). Tabby stripes showed up on the tail as Mr. or Ms. Cat tiptoed cautiously down and gobbled every crumb, but stayed resolutely out of our reach.

Around the middle of March, on a crisp sunny day, I pulled into the lot to find the cat bounding and prancing back and forth in front of the picture window, a little like one of those young folk so hungry for employment that they’ll take a job twirling and brandishing a business sign on the sidewalk, possibly in costume. I dropped my bag and hied back to the office. “Cat food? Plate?” I said.

“Is he out front again?” said Lowry. “Let’s get him.”

“I don’t think we have his confidence yet…” I said while the cat inhaled half a can of food. I stepped out, the cat retreated, I put out more food. Gulp, prance, up on the hood of the nearest pickup truck, down again to the pavement. Lowry lunged. The cat zinged across the parking lot. I scrambled to the back of the Sledmobile and got out the carrier, a shallow suitcase-like affair with a hinged lid. I still didn’t think anything was going to happen. The cat darted back toward the dish and then, as it saw Lowry hovering, under a large SUV with off-road clearance. Lowry hit the dirt like a Marine staying below covering fire, scrambled under the SUV until only his legs were showing, then slowly began to back out; first his head and shoulders, then his stevedore’s arms, and finally the dumbfounded and, for the moment, paralyzed cat came into view, rump first. I swung up the carrier lid, he crammed the cat in, I shut it, and said “Aack! Now what?!”

“You got a cat,” he said.

There is a special place in Heaven for a man who will dive under a vehicle, bare-armed, to grab a cat he knows nothing about, even by the rear end. Lowry is kind of private and doesn’t usually talk or even meet your eyes much, but at that moment, he could have asked me to marry him.

I gather the day manager never did notice any of this. Some people see so little, as the saying goes, they could referee wrestling.

I started to drive direct to the vet, then caught my breath and turned home. The spare bedroom had already done service as something of a cat triage area. There was already a litter box in there and a water dish. I could close two doors between it and the rest of the feline household.

I set the carrier on the bed and opened it. The cat shot under the bed and stayed there all night. In the morning, this is what I found I had.

to be continued…

The Cat House

The featured image and the one below shows our latest rescue from Bulgaria. She is the 9th cat we have adopted from Eastern Europe and we haven’t regretted a single one. They are all intelligent, incredibly loving and they get on together like a house on fire. We just bring them home, open the cat basket and have no problems at all.

I spotted Marta on Facebook – a short video from a friend of a friend. It was obvious she only had three legs and one remaining eye and clearly wouldn’t survive on the street. A pack of dogs took her leg some time ago. She had a home once, but after her “Dad” died, the daughter got workmen in to empty the house and everything was thrown by the side of a busy road, with Marta the cat on top. She must have gone to a neighbour for food and he hit her with a large stick (the Bulgarian translation was a pole). It damaged her eye beyond repair.

I turned to the only person who could help, my friend Bistra Datzova, who runs a rescue called the Cat House. She collected Marta for me early the next morning and took her straight to the vet. She stayed there for three weeks being treated, before moving in to the Cat House. Bistra rents space where all her rescues can live with a certain amount of freedom, surrounded by beds and cat toys. The sad truth is that most rescuers in Eastern Europe are only able to house their cats in cages at the vet. I’m used to it now and while they wait for their new homes it keeps them off the streets, where they would otherwise be killed by dogs, shot or poisoned. The Cat House is a vast improvement on that though.

It houses up to 55 cats at any one time, but can only keep running on donations from supporters, who are always thin on the ground. There is the monthly rent, cat food, litter, worming and flea treatments, not to mention the massive vet bills. Bistra takes on cats that others can’t afford to fund. There are losses, but also small miracles. Just take a look at this video of Leon who was passed to the Cat House from another rescuer earlier this year. It’s a tough watch at the beginning, but the transformation at the end is heart-warming. He wouldn’t be alive now had it not been for my dear friend.

The Cat House is run by just three girls and one who helps out at weekends when she can. If you would like to offer support (and even the smallest amount would help), then why not follow the Cat House on Facebook? https://www.facebook.com/Cat-house-521267061344013/ Please don’t be put off by the language barrier. Facebook translates (badly sometimes) from the original Bulgarian, but Bistra speaks perfect English and German as well I believe. There are always wonderful cats and kittens needing new homes. There will be a home check and a contract to complete. The rescuers will do all the paperwork on your behalf and also arrange transport. The cats will have FIV/FeLV tests, be vaccinated, wormed, chipped and have their passports. To Germany the adoption fee is 150 Euros in total. For the UK, there is no adoption fee, but you pay £170 for the transport. It’s easy and not much to pay to give a cat another chance at a new life – like little Francie in the photograph below. She was going to be put to sleep because her owners didn’t want her any more. She is patiently waiting for another home.

Francie

For those who feel they aren’t up to donating or adopting, I have created a Red Bubble shop where 100% of the profit will go straight to the Cat House. Orders can be taken anywhere in the world except, Iran, Cuba, Sudan, North Korea, Syria and the Crimea. If even this is too much, then please help by sharing. Thank you. https://www.redbubble.com/people/Zooey1/shop?asc=u

Guest Star: Sebastian The Broken Tailed Cat and his Forever Home story

Hi everyone,

Today’s guest post comes from Sebastian!

Sebastian came into our lives one brutally cold, and snowy winter. The year was 2013; and I was sitting on Facebook wasting time, when I noticed a picture of this adorable little kitten. A friend of mine had shared a post of this little black kitten, which had been posted on a local buy and sell group.

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At this time, I had no idea that buy and sells existed on Facebook. So I had to rely on her to relay my information to the people who had advertised the kitten. Arrangements were made, but a blizzard hit the night before. Which left us scrambling to find a way to get the kitten.

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Luckily the couple offered to bring the kitten to us. So my fiancé met them at the gas station in town to pick the little guy up. Once my fiancé got home he set the carrier down, opened the door, and out popped this little black broken tailed fluff ball. That started squeaking up a storm after, basically rolling out of the cat carrier. I dubbed him Sebastian Michaelis Hatter; after one of my favourite anime characters at the time.

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When we had made the arrangements to adopt him there had been no mention of any physical issues or deformities. So it was kind of a shock when we first saw his tail, which was dislocated at the base of the spine, the tip of the tail had previously been broken and healed had that way.  My main concern at the time, was for his wellbeing and comfort. He quickly proved that I was worrying too much and making mountains out of mole hills.

As soon as I picked him up he became my light in the darkness and I became his chosen one. Since then he has filled our lives with joy, laughter, happiness, and love. It was for some of those reasons that I decided to create a Youtube channel for all of our cats, and to create social media accounts for Sebastian. I hope that everyone continues to find Sebastian just as spell binding as I do.

We hope you enjoyed her story and don’t forget to subscribe to our Newsletter!

Thanks,

Marc