#i think their sibling dynamic could be sooo fucking funny its insane

[madscientistenthusiast]

Personally I think that Azula should have been redeemed simply so that she can become Zuko's horrible little advisor who whispers evil little plans to him so that he can do the exact opposite

[terminalsonata]

Read my mistakes, so hopefully you won’t make them, too.

Specifically about my ten cats at present, but also others along the way,  It wasn’t supposed to be like this, but it ended up this way.

We came to this place with three:  Mine from when I was able to live on my own before my body crippled me, which counts at two. and the one they got when i was a teenager.  She passed away shortly after, so we were down one.

And then it began.

Warning:  I will be talking about sick cats that were unable to be made healthy, but I think it’s important to know.

To start, I want it known that, while I have lifelong experience with animals, this was the first time any of us dealt with cats from outside in this manner.  Most our animals were rescues--a cat that had all its bones broken, a Shih Tzu whose one eye was poked out, another dog that was beaten, one that was thrown out a moving car and then starved and beaten by the people who picked it up, another that was also but in a duct taped box with its litter, etc--but we got them from vets and rescue groups, with the one that was thrown out of a moving car and then beaten/starved by the people who took it, we ordered her to be given to us when we found out (it was extended family, so the dynamics were different)--but never animals we plucked out from the wild, so we had to learn.  Certain people in my life had to learn more than others.

First, a litter of motherless kittens was found by a family friend, and we fell in love with one of them.  So she brought us to three: a tabby, a tortie and now a... we don’t know what she is, but she has some siamese in her.  At this time, certain people in the household still believed in declawing.  I begged for her not to be declawed, and tried to explain what it was, and I was told that I was being stupid, that every cat they have had was declawed, and it’s not what I’m saying it is.

Yeah, guess what?  The declaw went bad, and she has bits of bone fragments that scrape inside her skin, and cause infections, and the surgery to fix it runs a risk of actually making it worse.

Declawing is now a thing no one in this household does any longer, thank fucking God.

Then, a grey and white kitten showed up on our patio one night.  He was a juvenile, not a kitten, and friendly as could be right out the gate.  It was clear he was thrown out of an abusive household based on his behaviors (afraid of getting on furniture, acting like he was about to be hit even though we were just coming in to pet him), so we took him in.

From here, we had an onslaught of unhealthy kitties that were either thrown out or were ferals that decided we were okay.

We had a set of brothers who had birth defects that had their stomachs and lungs filling with fluid, so we had to put them down.  (No, it wasn’t mega esophagus.  I was raised with a dog with that, and back then, the life span was 1 year for those animals, and we kept her alive 4 years.)  The most tragic part of this was our single neighbor had promised a woman she would take them in and keep them safe, and then just tossed them outside, so they migrated over to us where we were kind to them.

The other was a tuxedo that had been feral all his life.  Our one neighbor we have said he was sooo vicious.  He had a head injury though, so we caught him and took him to the vet.  He was nasty af right until we dumped him out of the cage, at which point he looked around and then sniffed us and it was like a light turned on, and he became hyper affectionate, so we took him in.  This rugged, scarred up cat that had clawed the shit out of our neighbor acted like he’d been a housepet his whole life.  Then, we learned that the vet didn’t test him for diseases, and when he fell ill, the vet ACTUALLY tested him and revealed he had feline leukemia.  We had to put him down.

All three are buried on our property with headstones, because they were the best cats.

After this, we adopted a black cat I named Ezio, because he’s such a ladies man with human ladies and just a huge charmer.  We’re a big fan of black cats.  When I was a child, my grandmother (an insane ol’ coot) found a polydactyl Bombay with a broken leg at like two in the morning, and we drive two hours at that time of night to get him, and he was so funny.  And fat.  My sister, who was a cop at the time, won a bet over who knew the fattest cat.  It was a disservice to him, but he loved his life.  Ezio is much sleeker and healthier, and sweet as pie.

After that, another lifelong feral became a porch cat when I finally befriended him after years of trying.  He was gentle, and sweet, and loving.  The moment it clicked for him that we were there for him was when I heard a cat scream on the property on the other side of us from our one neighbor.  No one lives there, and the owner allows us on there freely.  I loped my crippled self over, and he’d gotten into a tiff with another cat.  I coaxed him to come with me, and he walked all the way back to the patio, and from that point on, he was Sweet One, because he was a sweet, sweet, sweet boy.  He was always so skinny, and would get attacked because, as I learned along the way, he wasn’t a fighter.  He was a defender, and often lost fights.  These injuries would get so horrifically infected and I did everything I could to help him.  He eventually learned to stay on and around the patio, and the injuries stopped.  But then, one day, he got a nose bleed.  And it wouldn’t stop.  It kept going through the night, and into the next day.  He was bleeding everywhere, so we took him in.

He had feline HIV, and an infection in his nose was causing the bleeding.  So, we had to put him down, and he was buried with the other three and a Shih Tzu.

After this, things were pretty normal for a while.  We had a couple ferals that I saw here and there that would eat from the food dishes out for Sweet One, so we kept them out after he was gone.

And then one night, a kitten was spotted.

It took me months of chasing these four kittens and baby talking them, and tossing food out, then putting food in bowls, then migrating the bowls towards the patio, then onto the patio, but I was able to FINALLY earn their trust.

Two boys, two girls.  By nature, girls are usually less friendly, and the household fell in love with the boys, who were brought in and named Woody and Noctis.  They’re pudgy (particularly the glutton Noctis) and happy.

I begged for help to catch the sisters to get them spayed through the spay/neuter program for strays, and never got it.  It’s a lot of bullshit, but eventually the two got pregnant.  I told them that had they helped me, this wouldn’t have happened.  (Because I’m crippled and they’re old, it’s a case of we can’t do it alone, but we can do it together, but all they heard was, “YOU have to do this.”)

One sister, who I named Lady (because she has two eye colors like Lady from Devil May Cry) was starting to get close, and her sister (Princess, because she acts like one) was not far behind.  When they started acting uncomfortable, they allowed me to give them pets and rubs, and this solidified me as a Good Human.  Still, the household was in denial about the pregnancies until Lady gave birth to three kittens.  THEN they were invested.  THEN they helped me trap Princess.  But instead of allowing her to give birth as she was so close to doing, they shipped her off for it ‘all to be handled’.  She’s back with us now, and seems no worse for wear.  The vet who worked on her did a beautiful job on her incision.

Unfortunately, the chaos of catching her scared Lady, who hauled off back to the place on the property with no one next door with her babies, where her mother raised her, Woody, Noctis and Lady.  So I figure okay... ten weeks, and I can start trying.

Ten weeks is the normal amount of time for a cat to have weened her kittens.

Lady is different, however, the little brat.  She is the equivalent of a helicopter mom.  After it was all through and like 16 weeks later, even after she was spayed, she was still allowing them to nurse on her despite her not producing milk.

But I’m getting a bit ahead of myself.

We had a kitten trap by this time, and I was able to get close to one of the kittens--a tuxedo just like Lady and Noctis--and discovered it had a massive eye infection.  So, trapping commenced, and it was decided that he can’t go back out.  (”Trap and Release” is the name of the game with most ferals to try to control the population of cats out here.)  His eye was left damaged from the infection.  He was named Jax.

Then we got his siblings, and his mom.  They were in massive dog cages, and Lady was taken and spayed and FUCK her vet, because they did such a hack job on her compared to Princess.  I had to keep her in and on antibiotics for a week after.  Didn’t help that she liked to lay in her litter box, but...

But then we learned it was going to take f o r e v e r to get the siblings in for their fixing.  Too long for kittens that are only 17-18 weeks old at this point to handle getting released again, so it’s decided they’re staying in.

We have Jax, the one-eyed tuxedo; a solid black girl I’m thinking of naming Iris, but idk yet; and their gigantic brother I’m tentatively calling Gladio because he dwarfs his siblings in size.  He’s a gentle giant, and disturbingly really close to looking like his uncle, Woody, and his aunt, Princess, giving some haunting implications, but he’s healthy and happy and had someone just listened and helped me in the first place...

So, there you go.  I’ll leave you with a summary of advice:

- If you see a cat with a single cropped ear outside, it means they’re a feral that was taken in and spayed/neutered, then released

- If you find a feral/stray without this, then call animal/cat rescues in our area to ask about trap/fix/release programs (usually called SNIP afaik). These programs will fix cats for little to no cost and

- if the cats have good demeanors, they may bring them into the fostering programs they have to find forever homes

- If you have a feral you interact with that gets injured and immediately suffers horrific infections, you need to trap/catch them and get them somewhere so they can be tested for autoimmune diseases.  Yes, unless someone takes them in because they’re nice, this means they’ll need to be put down, but you’re saving them the pain of living with it, and saving numerous other ferals/strays from the same fate

- Never assume ferals won’t be able to turn it around and become good cats for inside the home, but don’t assume all ferals can turn it around.  Give them time to learn you and show what kind of cat they are, and

- Make damn certain if you do bring them in, you have them tested for everything if you have other cats, and make SURE the results get shown to you

Learn from my mistakes, y’all.  Tumblr’s the land of cat people, so I want to give my wisdom to those who might need it.

And a summary of cat names: Mama Bear, Ophelia, Kana, Brutus, Ezio, Noctis, Woody, Jax, tentatively Gladio, tentatively Iris

Honorary cats in the household: Two chihuahuas.

Not cats in the household:  Two dogs who are not like cats and dogs had babies.

Cats outside the household: Lady, Princess, Beeper (who is a feral I befriended over the course of four months and is also polydactyl--she has five distinguished toes on each foot, and is named Beeper because her meows are short bursts like beeps) (her ear is docked, so we know she’s spayed)

Not cats outside:  Chickens, a donkey that caused me to have surgery (and made the surgeon laugh his ass off), two horses, a mini horse, and a goat (who was also a rescue).  Two steers.

Animals. Everywhere.