Waiting in a hot car with a gassy cat

No pictures of this, thank goodness! Sir Thomas went to the vet today for a checkup and shots. Because he's a stray, the staff asked me to wait with him outside until they got a room ready, and we would be ushered right in. That's understandable, since there's no way of knowing what he might have and they don't want to run the risk of infecting other cats who may be in the waiting room.

Of course all the shady parking spots were taken, so we had to sit in the car in the hot sun with the air conditioner running. Still, it would get a bit warm after a while, so I'd crack the driver's side window a few inches every few minutes to let in some fresh air. Sir Thomas stood on my lap and tried to squeeze himself through the crack in an attempt to escape (he was very unhappy in the carrier and since we had to wait so long, I let him come out until it was time to go inside).

Since he's been eating regular meals, of prepared cat food instead of fresh kill, his little tummy has just bloated up and he's had terrible gas. (The vet did assure me that this would pass--pardon the pun--as he got used to his new diet.) So I'm sitting in this hot car with the sun beating down, and a cat standing on my lap farting frequently. It seemed like forever before a vet tech came out and got us. I'm not sure whether Sir Thomas or I was more relieved!

Sir Thomas needs a home

My name is Sir Thomas, the title stemming from my courtly visits to a fair kitten named Emily, before she was fixed (though she did not appear to be broken). I myself have since been fixed (though I was not aware of being broken either). I now find myself enjoying domestic life as an indoor cat after having lived about two years on my own in the wild. I carry at least three BBs in my body as a reminder of those tough times.

Although I'm very happy with my foster family, my foster mom already has five cats to care for, and not wishing to impose on her, I feel compelled to look for a family less generously endowed with felines. I enjoy both human and feline companionshi9p, though, as well as lots of affection and play. I've had all my shots (besides the BBs), and my indoor manners are impeccable. However, I confess I do still yearn for the outdoors, and need to be vigilantly watched to prevent my escape until I adjust completely to an indoor lifestyle. Petting and playtime have proven helpful diversions for the "call of the wild."

If you would like to have a gentleman such as myself in your home, please leave a contact number or e-mail address in the comments. God bless you!

Sir Thomas

The latest addition

The phone rang as I was about to leave home to pick up a mama cat and her seven (!) newborn kittens that I was going to foster. The woman who had found the little family said a new kitten, about four weeks old, had just wandered up. The lady knew all the neighborhood cats, and this baby didn't belong to anyone, so she seemed to have been dumped. The woman asked if I would take this one too, and I said, "Sure, why not?"

Fostering the mama, Sassafras, and her seven boys is a trip, but this little girl just stole my heart from the get-go. I called her Spot, because of her speckled belly, for the first couple of weeks until I realized I was going to keep her. Then she became Emily. She's pictured here at 6 weeks old.

My boyfriend teases me because I've nicknamed her "The World's Most Perfect Kitten" -- even though she doesn't always quite make it to the litter box in time! She's incredibly sweet and snuggly, and has made friends with all my other cats -- even my curmudgeonly 17 1/2-year-old, Shugi.

Full house

Lots of excitement in our household these days. A few weeks ago, a woman who said she was referred to me by my vet called and asked if I could foster and/or adopt a pregnant cat who was about to have kittens any day. Her neighbors had moved and abandoned the cat, she couldn't afford to take of it, and with winter coming on she was worried about the babies.

So what could I do? I couldn't let the little ones freeze to death. So I agreed to go pick them up on Nov. 1.

The woman called that morning, and said Sassafras, the mom, had her babies the night before. There were SEVEN of them, all boys. One was a runt, which she had bottle-fed through the night because the mom kept pushing it away. So I was getting a lot more than I had bargained for. I would have to keep them until they were old enough to be adopted, and then find homes for seven kittens--if the littlest one, which the woman had optimistically named Hercules, survived.

Sassy, as my boyfriend and I call Sassafras, and her boys are keeping me extremely busy. Sometimes I feel like it's just too much, especially with the holidays coming up and so much to do, and my cats are rather put out by all the commotion.

But these guys are so sweet, and little Hercules is fighting so hard to get stronger, I feel blessed to be able to care for them a little while. I have to watch Herc all the time to be sure he's getting enough to eat, since his brothers tend to push him away from the "dining table," and Mom ignores him much of the time. I'm supplementing his mother's milk with several bottle feedings a day, which seem to be helping him put on a little weight. He's unbelievably tiny. He loves to be cuddled up against my chest, and will just stick like Velcro while I walk around the house, doing chores or whatever. I pray all the time that he will survive and thrive.