origin stories

'splain! 'splain!

the how and the why of Meerakai and Wicket! ok, but first, a memorial blogbit for my first three- Mittens, Rajah and Brat.

Enter Mittens-

My first foray into the weird and wonderful world of Catdom- I was small, maybe 9 or 10, and it was raining buckets outside. Something drew me to the back door, where I could juuust peer over the bottom half of the screen door. And there, so pathetic that my heart writhed in my chest, was a little black and white baby looking up at me and wanting to get in.

What this did to me! I begged my mom to let me bring Mittens into the house but she refused. Worried about infestations or cleaning cat poop? I cried myself to sleep that night, worried sick about that little guy (girl?) in the rain.

The sun woke me the next morning. Would Mittens still be there? But I never made it to the back door. A card table had been placed on its side at the top of the steps leading to the basement. and there, at the bottom of the steps, was Mittens, warm and dry.

That's where my memory ends. We must have sent Mittens on his way later that day, and that is a sad thing. But mostly what this memory evokes is gratefulness and affection for my mom, who always tries to do the right thing.

Enter Rajah-

Rajah was another too quick blip in the life of me. He entered our lives, he got ear mites, he left our lives. This memory is frustration, anger, powerlessness. I don't know what happened to Rajah, but I can still smell the ear medication we gave him for a few days, and ten years later his litter box is still in my mom's garage. Sad.

Enter Brat-

Brat arrived in time for my 16th birthday. He was pure black, my first familiar, two years old, sheltered by a priest along with his good buddy, a black long-haired girl named Broccoli.

When he was younger, Brat was in an accident (with a car?) and then in a full-body cast. Forever after he walked with a limp in his front left paw. He was declawed when he came to us.

I have never known a more sweet-natured or people-loving cat. He just wanted to be in my presence. He'd follow me from room to room, like Kai does now. if I was lying on the couch reading, he'd climb onto my chest and lick my earlobe. Maybe he was flashing back to being a baby nursing kitteh.

He would greet me at the back door when I came home from high school, and we'd touch noses in greeting. He'd cuddle under my blankets at night. I'd wake up in the morning on my back, my face turned to the wall and my chin to my chest, Brat curled into the warm space between my ear and shoulder. He had the sweetest smell.

We'd let him out in the backyard, shut the gate, and let him wander in the wild green leafiness for an hour or two. When I went to bring him back inside, I'd scan the backyard, and more likely than not, I'd see nothing. I'd make a kiss-kiss sound, and a shadow would detach itself from beneath the lilac bush. He'd come running to me. I miss him- he passed away more than a year ago.

Enter Jen:

And now we have caught up to my present bebbies. In the late fall of 2005, Jen espied a mama cat, her grown daughter Miranda, and a litter of at least three kittens near her apartment complex. First she gathered in nameless boy-kitten #1, had him spayed, and took him to the Amazing Toledo Animal Shelter where he was found a home within a few days (yay!).

Then she went back and gathered in boy-kitten #2, christened "Little Boy" and girl-kitten, christened "Little Girl". Little Girl lived under Jen's bed; Little Boy (now Seven) lived at Lizzie's and then 922cats' grandhooman's place until a permanent home could be found (with moi!).

Enter Moi:

It was a cold day when I drove to Jen's to pick them up. I brought two little plastic carriers and blankets to cover them. Seven was easy to capture and slide in. Little Girl though- no. Sweet talk, treats, friendly faces, cooing- no. Dire threats- of course not. Eventually Jen donned her heavy duty winter gloves and dragged Little Girl out, tucked her away in the carrier, and that was the beginning of us.

It took awhile for names to make themselves known. Seven was a water baby right from the start. We cycled through (with varying degrees of seriousness) Lyndon, Narcissus, Energizer Bunny, Caspian, Jojen, Sugar, Jackie, Joe, Muhammad, and then finally, finally, for no good reason except that it fit, we settled on Kai.

Later i discovered "Kai" means the sea in Hawaiian, how fitting. It also means (do you trust the internets?) the earth in Japanese. In Latin 'Kai' is rooted in the word 'gaius,' which also means earth. In Welsh and Scottish it means 'keeper of the keys.' Kai means food or to gather food in Maori, and plentiful in Chinese. It can also mean spirit or dragon, or love in Swahili. In Dutch it means king, in Creole it means house. I love the flexibility and strength of the name.

Meera's name means Meera. [Update: it's also the name of an Iranian rock band based in Tehran.] Her name came right out of George R.R. Martin's series, 'A Song of Ice and Fire.' Meera Reed is one of my favorite characters- steady, practical, a green-eyed huntress. My Meera is also a green-eyed huntress, but she's UNstable and how many indie film star wannabees do you know who are practical, and she's drifted more towards Bella the beautiful than Meera these days, but as Lizzie says, every cat has at least three names. Probably more.

Enter Jen again:

But let us go back to Jen. After finding homes for the litter of three, she went back for the grown daughter Miranda. A neighbor had been feeding these strays and managed to lure Miranda into her apartment in March 2006.

In Jen's words:

"I got her and took her to the vet to get spayed. They called me at work and told me she was FIV positive. I had no idea what to do; I pretty much freaked out. I told them to go ahead with the surgery and asked if they could keep her there until I could figure something out.

Of all people, it was the vet's attorney who reached out to me and convinced me that there was somebody somewhere who would take her, and that my cats were at almost zero risk. So I took her home. She stayed in my bedroom for a month, and I blocked every little opening around the door so she had no contact with my other two. Probably unnecesary, but I was paranoid, especially since mine weren't up on their vaccinations.

Anyway, I finally found Crash's Landing in Grand Rapids at the end of April, and they agreed to give her a home in their sanctuary, and post her on their Petfinder page indefinitely. I was really impressed with how clean and comfy the place is (it's really just a converted 2-story house). The cats I met were very sweet and friendly, and each one wears a collar and a name tag. They are all FIV-positive, and most are available for adoption. It was both heartwarming and heartbreaking. But even if Miranda lives out the rest of her life there, I'll know she's cared for and among friends."

Did Jen stop there? No! She went back for MAMA cat:

"The mama kitty was really tough to get. Even the woman who had been feeding her for over a year couldn't get close to her. But I was really concerned that she would get pregnant yet again, and I couldn't be sure if Miranda got the FIV from her or a bite wound.

Long story short, I borrowed a live trap and put smelly food in it for 5 straight days. She didn't fall for it once--STINKER! But this also meant she wasn't eating, at least not from us. So one day the neighbor propped open the building door and lured Mama in with grilled chicken breast (srsly). She closed the door behind her and I came in the other way and threw a big towel on top of her. She was not happy, to say the least.

Through all my emails and phone calls about a home for Miranda, I had made a contact who dealt with feral cats, and I figured Mama was as close as you could get. I never did touch her. Mama stayed in the carrier in my car for a few hours while I made the arrangements. I dropped her off at a vet's office near the Oakland Mall.

All I know is that she got her basic vet care and went to live in a rural area where she would have food, shelter, and a chance to get socialized, if she was so inclined. It was an act of faith on my part, but I just had to trust my instincts, and these people struck me as OK.

I found out later that Mama wasn't FIV-positive, so either Miranda got it from a wound or she wasn't actually related to the rest."

Enter twice-rescued Wicket:

Twice-rescued Wicket- does this remind anyone else of twice-baked potatoes?

Around about the time Jen gathered in Miranda but before mama cat was caught, mama cat had another litter of six boys: Tink, Angel, Spitfire, Mr. Mitten, Xena and Mini. They came to be known as the Library Kitten Sanctuary and Finishing School.

Jen (who else?) gathered them in, in May 2007, and for a few lovely days the six boys resided in an unused office in the library and were visited several times a day by their doting hoomans, who dreamed of cats in the stacks, cat mascots, cats at the reference desk, etc.

But one day evil management cited OSHA regulations or something like that and three had to go home with Lizzie, three with Jen. Fun and games and fevers and vet visits and deep attachment ensued.

Mr. Mitten, Angel and Spitfire all tested FIV-positive, like their big sis Miranda. But (and this is not uncommon, sez Jen) these were false positives ("But we all had to wait about a month to find that out!"). Five bebbies, probably six, do have cerebellar hypoplasia (watch "This is Charley"). They're wobblers. Their mama was probably malnourished during her pregnancy or suffered an infection or some other kind of trauma.

What happened to the Library 6? Well, Lizzie never let go of Angel and Spitfire (now Aretoo), bringing her count to nine hundred twenty-hzmmr. Mr. Mitten (now Trouble) found a home with Kathy. Xena (now Tigger- oops! those are boy bits!) found a home with a family from beyond. Mini (now called...?) starred in a TV commercial and was adopted within days from the Amazing Toledo Animal Shelter. Jen still entertains thoughts of tracking that adopting fam down to compare notes, exchange pictures, and find out if Mini wobbles like his brothers. And Tink (now Dunc) lives with Jen.

All good, all safe, all loved...

...UNTIL, months later, Jen got a call from Tigger's hooman, who said "my fam is moving to an apartment that doesn't accept cats, I've abandoned Tigger and his friend Midnight in the middle of the city. K thx bai."

Jen hung up and said, "@#%$*&@!" hopped in her car, drove to where these people used to live, parked, opened a can of tuna, and who does she see but Tigger and Midnight strolling down teh street. Pop! Into the car they go. much consternation and time and phone calls later, Midnight went to live with Pat (Mama to Lizzie's Petunnia's brother Joshua), and Tigger (now Wicket) came home with me.

Two or three things i know for sure:

1. People like Jen and Lizzie have hearts that humble me, and inspire me to participate;
2. Bob Barker (now Drew Carey) got it right when he sez, "Help control the pet population. have your pet spayed or neutered;" and
3. Three cats are so much more fun than two.

Wicket's the dash of cayenne in our household...

But wherefore his name, i hear TPC ask? Thx to Mike for his deep abiding interest in all things Star Wars, and his knowledge of the arcane. Wicket W. Warrick is the loyal, curious and adventurous young Ewok scout who finds and helps Princess Leia after her speeder bike accident. Their friendship led to the alliance that helped overthrow the Empire.

(Wickers, auntie Jen wants to know which empire you're seeking to overthrow now?)

And so it is.