So imagine the situation, we've got a 7 year old cat, Alex, who since being with us has never laid a paw outside, and his only experience with other cats were his litter mates, and the random strays that go bird hunting on our back deck. And now, we had one them in the guest bathroom.
While outside making several calls to my wife, we had tried to find either no-kill shelters or volunteer groups to take in strays with absolutely no luck. I like to think that the volunteers were driving around looking for strays with the cold weather, and taking them back to the shelter to thaw the cat-cicles. We got a hold of a shelter, but unfortunately it was the county, and they couldn't guarantee his safety. My parents chimed in, and offered to take him in if there were no other options. For the moment, he'd at least spend a night, warm, in our house.
When the feeling returned to my hands, I focused on the necessities.
Food, water, litter, would have to suffice until a more permanent plan
could be put in place. Of course this led to finding an old bed that Alex didn't use anymore, and putting it in there as well. On the last exit from the bathroom, Alex was definitely in a "inquisitively bewildered" state, he wanted to know what the heck was going on and what on earth that smell coming from the bathroom. He also appeared to be about 2-3 times his size, as a giant ball of guard-kitty fluff.
Exhausted from the ordeal, i took a seat on the couch and waited for my wife to get home.
When she finally did, of course she had to meet the new arrival; we thought it best to handle him with a towel, in case he was dirty, and also to protect us from his needled-tip, outdoor kitty claws. This kitty wanted nothing in this world save for 2 things: food and having his head rubbed CONSTANTLY. If you were sitting there in the bathroom to be with him, he would jump up on your lap, or stand up to your knee and either claw or try to bite your hand so that he could get his rubbing. Absolutely insane! Occasionally, he would calm long enough to be pet, but it never lasted. Exiting the bathroom was always the same, crying, meowing, probably translated " Come back and pet my head!"
We discussed our options, and made plans for the next morning to take him to our regular vet, and check to see if he was micro-chipped. Being so friendly, we really hoped that someone had loved him and that maybe he was just rambunctious enough to have gotten out a back door without being noticed. If he had a chip, he wouldn't be ours for long, but then again he'd be home.
The next morning we went together, and to our partial disappointment, no chip. As another surprise, the vet tech informed us that not only was he a little boy, he was also special, having only one testicle descended. He was also heavily infested with ear mites, which completely explained his whole "pet my head" obsession, as it turn out it was more of a "my ears are ITCHY" obsession. The vet was very flexible, and was able to see him that evening.
The day was nerve racking, there were plenty of phone calls with my wife and parents. Deciding his ultimate fate, my folks reiterating that they are more than happy to take him, my wife sharing the pictures we had snapped the night before with everybody involved.
The hardest question to consider, was how Alex would respond to a new kitty, if we decided to keep with. He'd been with us for 7 years, our baby, and now we'd ask him to accept a sibling. I'd seen us getting a little girl kitty at some time in the future ( orange tabby preferably ), and I wasn't sure if we'd have a territorial battle on our hands
Story of Parker, 3 to continue....
