My Baby ~~ Winston

This is Winston. He's my only male among three females ~ all fixed and he's my Baby!

He is also quite a unique character...
 
 






Winston and his mother, Molly...
when she isn't reproving him with a bat to the ear or a whack on the head for some imagined offense or just because its Tuesday.

A winter days slumber on the old rocking chair.

This, I have no explanation for! 


He's just 'Winston'

 
Is it morning yet?  Or... What do you mean its Monday, what happened to my day off, Sunday?

Winter's day nap.

Back in March, we had a nice day and this was as far as Winnie was going to enjoy the great outdoors ~ and that, was that!

So, how many cats to you know who habitually lay like this?

 Winston, inquiring after butter for his morning toast. Where's my Toast??

 Winston strongly suspects someone, who is not a family member, is on top of the fridge...

I have a plastic covering over the window so Winston can't climb up. Instead he's investigating an unusually bright orb in the night sky. Oh, what can it be???

These are only a few reason as to why he's my baby!

Catspaw

The Value and Importance of Adopting Rescue Cats - Part 2

Sasha's story:

Sasha, rescued in the street from an on-rushing car

'Here is Sasha. He just loves everyone. He is 2 years old now, neutered and has all his shots up to-date. I call him my Christmas Surprise because I was on my way downtown 2 years ago when I heard a kitten screaming just ahead of me. To my horror I saw this tiny kitten, no more than 5 weeks old, in the middle of the street just as a car drove right over him. I quickly ran over to this terrified little kitten thinking that I better rush him to the vet when he gazed up at me with those big saucer eyes and seemed to say: I’m lost, please take me home?

As I looked him over to make sure he was ok I realized I had something of a problem. I already had Xena and I wasn’t looking to get another cat. But then again, Xena was just turning one year old at the time and she did seem quite lonely when I had to go out. There was no one in sight and it was getting dark and very cold. I had a choice to make. My heart wouldn’t let me just toss this helpless kitten aside in a snow bank where he would freeze to death or land back on the road and get squashed by a car for sure or a dog may get a hold of him or someone may find him and be cruel.

But as I was holding this tiny kitten in my arms he started to purr and crawl inside my coat where it was warm. Suddenly it came to me that it was Christmas Eve!! All my life, growing up as a child, I had always wished for my very own kitten in a basket with a big red bow, just for me! Never got it. I realized then that if I had not gone downtown that night, I would have never found this kitten and the outcome for Sasha would have terrible – he would not have survived and would have died a hideous death. But I brought him home and in a few days Xena accepted him and now they have bonded.

But all I can say is: an Angel must have been watching over this tiny, helpless kitten that night and brought me there to save him and bring him home on Christmas Eve --- of all nights! Sasha found a home that night.

Hey, who says: miracles never happen and a child’s wish was fulfilled!'

Next is Maya's story

Catspaw

 

2.5 Growlers, A Screamer and A Beggar!

Of my four cats, three of which are female, I have two and a half Growlers, a Screamer and the beggar is usually two of the four.

When was the last time you heard a cat scream?  There really isn't a sound like it and it can't be mimicked by human vocal cords. If I absolutely had to part with any of them, only Winston could relocate and there is no way I'm parting with him!

Wondering which are which yet?

Winston is my male tabby and he's the biggest darling you will ever meet.

Sassy, on the other hand...

She's my Screamer! No cat screams like Sassy!  She sets the entire household on edge with her screams and she screams when any cat, other then ours are around. Yesterday she didn't realize that she was laying beside a grey barncat in the office, when he moved and touched her, she screamed. She is also one of my growlers. Poor Winston, he's surrounded with moody females, each with a temper and he's always getting snapped at or a whack on the nose for no reason. He always exits the room as fast as catly possible and with as much dignity as he can keep intact.

You would look at Emerald, sitting on the chair and think to yourself, what a beautiful cat!  Well...

Depends how you like your cat personalities.

She is my Chief growler.

She absolutely HATES to be picked up and will growl at you for it! Come to think of it, she hates a lot of things. She growls if you pet her when she doesn't want it, she growls if you pick her up, she growls if you don't give in to her demands, she growls if you let other cats into the house, if you've touched an alien cat and then have the audacity to pet her... Ya, well, you get the picture. Emmy will not only beg food from you, she will down right take it off your plate if you're not watching. We love her anyway ~ we kinda have no choice!

Molly and Winston are pictured here ~ Mom and son, though half the time you wouldn't think so. 

Molly comes in a close second in the growler department but with something added ~ a Real Catattuide! Molly is one of those cats who believes the world and more importantly, that we in particular, owe her a living. She is the principal one to give Winston a cuff, a slap, a whack, a growl whenever she sees fit. She is very Moody and a very particular beggar. There are only certain things she demands and she demands them, incessantly. Molly is also very animated, she will come and ask to be let outside and will ask persistently if you don't do it right away.

That leaves my Winston...

Gifted with the sweetest disposition that the females lack, he's become far more vocal since he's been neutered. He 'puts up with' his mother ~ Molly, Sassy and her daughter Emerald. He's a strategist though, when they start with the growling, screaming or bopping ~ he's OUTTA HERE! He will only growl if the barn cats come too close.

As you can well imagine there is seldom a dull or reasonably quiet moment to be had in this house, especially with the constant invasion of about four barncats who like to spend the day inside sleeping and out of the cold and wet where they usually spend their nights. Its been a slow process but my cats have learnt toleration. That, of course, does not mean always acceptance of the rule of sharing what they consider their exclusive territory. Oh well.

Catspaw

The Barn Cats Call This Home

At this moment, 7:30 in the am on the Island, I have three barn cats in the house along side my four. The three, two greys and a black, are playing with each other around the rocking chair. Usually there is a fourth grey but he decided he'd be outside this morning. So the others are playing, hissing and snipeing at each other while my own are sitting somewhere and watching the entertainment. The fourth grey is a male, he asks to come the same way Winston and Emerald do, pawing at the window. The little grey cat is a female that I was able to get Cat Action to fix; her friend, the black one is a female too, while the two other greys are males. 

These two females are great friends, they finally discovered they could get up into the cat tree box and nothing bad would happen. That, of course, was just before we had to put it out on the patio. 

It took quite a long time for these girls to trust me. I had to make friends with them using food and coaxing, then manage to catch them and bring them in. Finally they decided I really was their friend and one day, each came in on her own.

When I took her in and the Vet spayed her, she made no difficulties at all. She is so small that I think if she did have kittens, it would be a risk to her life. She's been quite happy since and the fur on her belly is starting to grow back.

I call her Blackie. This is where the cat tree has ended it days for now.

Blackie is curious about the new addition to the back porch.

All the barn cats play on it and in it. Over the weeks it has rained some so I had to remove the boxes when they got soggy and flatten out. 

My hubby is now saying that he will reuse this same tree, shaped different (without the limbs) and with a sturdy stand to make another one. 

Recycle. Reuse. 

How many cats can you see?

Bet you can't pick out which are mine?

Once we actually get a hint of spring, the barn cats will be outside, permanently and they will go back to their hunting. 

Catspaw

Post Surgery; Sassy and Winston

A newly spayed Sassy at home, note her eyes are fixed & dilated from the sedative

A phone call on the night of February 23rd sent me on the road or rather on a snowy highway by seven, the morning of February 24th with two cats in two cat carriers. One for neutering, the other to spay. Sassy has been in her second heat of the late winter, early spring and has been mated several times by one or two of the barn cats. It is totally impossible to keep her indoors once she gets started but I already knew she'd be going in for this fairly soon, so I let her out. Reason being that Winston, who was still in his 'kitten' mode until her first heat, began to realize that he was growing up. Though he had no clue as to what to do when Sassy came round him he started in with his annoying 'yowling' around the house and demanding to go out.

Sassy goes into her 'flip-flop' routine and he serenades her and that as far as it goes because of her rejection of him. So the idea that indoor cats, especially related ones, will mate for the sake of, is completely untrue. He's also started this continual serenading at night, just at bedtime of course.

For the trip down they were quiet and calm in their carriers seeming to enjoy the ride; they were the same when I left them at the vets. Upon collecting them, they were awake and quiet for the ride home too. Only on getting them in the door and settled in again at home did I notice Sassy could hardly stand and walked drunkenly about; at times she plain fell right over!  

I had to pick her up and carry her

Sassy can't walk straight

Sassy keeled over

She's a skinny, light-weight little thing and the sedative affected her more. So back into the carrier she went for what was left of the day and into the evening. 

Resting

Emmy

 As I typed this blog last night she was in her carrier resting quietly while Winston, who recovered just fine and Emerald took turns checking on her by peering through the cage door and sitting on top of it. They'd sit/sleep right beside the door where Sassy can see them so she didn't feel caged and alone. 

She's not alone with family

She's still pretty dopey in this pic

Before I drove out yesterday  to collect them in the late afternoon, I rummaged through the linen cupboard to find several slightly worn towels, then I rummaged again through the kitchen and came up with a few cans of cat food to take along with me. A nice and helpful way to say an added thank you.

A special 'Hi' from Winston who is doing great

Today, February 25th, Sassy has made a full recovery and both are doing fine. 


Food for thought; please remember that the SPCA and other Vet Clinics really need whatever supplies and food, even Canadian Tire money, that you can spare. Say thanks to them this way too.  

Catspaw

Mr Sneakers, the Newfoundland Mouse, meets Moggy

Mr Sneakers had free run of the house when the human wasn't looking of course. He'd been silly enough to be seen the last time when he had paused from his mad dash about the place to clean his paws and she spotted him, commenting to her friend that he was cute she dubbed him: Mr Sneakers.
Miss Z’s confidant warned that where there was one, others would follow. How do they know these things? After that the conversation turned frightful; the companion suggested a CAT and knew a neighbor who had one to spare. ‘No’ came the answer, then she'd have to look after kitty!
When Mrs X visited again a week later, she found Miss Z hiding little traps all over the house. A few in the basement, a couple upstairs, several in the attic. Mr Sneaker found them all and cautioned is mates to avoid them.

“What on earth...” stammered Mrs X.

A troupe of mice were rampaging full tilt across the attic floor.

“Oh, state the obvious.” Miss Z remarked at the doleful expression of her cohort. “The traps are humane and I’m sure to collect them all and put them back outside where they belong very soon now.”

Looking doubtful, Mrs X suggested again that a small furred animal was the answer to the herd now amassing in the attic and mumbled again, ‘Where there was one...’

A loud knock came to the door and Miss Z responded. ‘Hello to the neighbor’, at least it would have been if he hadn’t brought Moggy with him. As it was cold outside and he couldn’t very well stand in the doorway allowing a draft to invade so she shooed him in.

“I heard you had mice so I brought Mog over to help out, he’s an awful good mouser.”

Ears attentive to the small scuttling coming from overhead, Moggy hit the floor and bounded straight up the stairs in a flash. Silence ensued. The three in the living room followed the sound of the creaking floor boards as the rodents were hunted. The wait seemed interminable until that wily tabby came slinking down into the room again as if nothing had happened. Indeed, there was some confusion as to whether anything was amiss in the attic so Mr. Neighbor volunteered to take a peek for the sake of the ladies wits. Cautiously he crept the narrow stairwell that led to the dimly lit chamber above and hesitated at the top. In the distance, toward the back of the alcove, an army of dormice were gathered. There seemed to be at least ten. Mr Neighbor duly informed the ladies.

Mr Neighbor positively insisted to Miss Z that it was absolutely no trouble at all for him to part with Moggy, then he was gone. Mrs X smiled in satisfaction.

After that Moggy was always about the house hunting Mr Sneaker and his accomplices; the tabby had a habit of lurking that would startle Miss Z every time she walked into a room. It was a deadly game of old fashioned cat and mouse but Mr Sneakers was clever; when the cat was searching the attic, he would led them into the basement and when Mog padded into the furnace room, the gang would sprint to the upper story. This continued, to the discomfiture of Miss Z, for over a week until she could not tell where the two parties actually were and at times both mice and cat seemed very confused themselves. Then one afternoon a series of wild little squeaks resounded from the cellar.

Miss Z took an awful start at the unexpected sound, hurried to the stair and snapped on the light. As she carefully descended Mog was right behind her tiptoeing all the way. There, in the corner, where she had left two open traps were the mice. Five in each humane trap, very agitated and jumping at the sides. They quieted at the stealthy approach of Moggy.

Miss Z stooped and raising the cages remarked, “Well, that’s that then. Outside you go.” And outside they went.

That very day Miss Z proudly announced to both Mr Neighbor and Mrs X when they came by to check on the situation, that the little rodents were decamped from her home. Moggy boastfully entwined all their legs as they listened intently to Miss Z’s telling of her story. She gave the impression that both factions had become baffled concerning who was where in the house in their efforts to either avoid altogether or to catch and eat; Miss Z summed up her tail expressing her sentiment that Mr Sneaker had become so confused that he led the rest to enter the traps by mistake to the happy conclusion of the whole episode.

Catspaw

Molly's Introduction

Cat Friend One

There’s this noise that becomes a scratching, then a weight against my back; my cats are up before I am again this morning and are unobtrusively demanding that I rise to greet the day with them. What does it mean when Emerald sits on top of me, batting my nose at 6 am? Is it a ‘get up already and feed me!’ or a ‘good morning, I clicked the button and the coffee is on.’ You can almost hear the sing-song in her meow, almost.

I’m up. Sassy wants outside, Molly wants to be left alone, Emerald is demanding her treat and laid back Winston is just waiting for something to happen; another typical day in the Stewart household. All four have completely different personalities that clash, rather loudly and dramatically at times. Molly is my drama queen, Emerald is a very moody princess; if there was a cat click, she’d be the one dominating it!  Sassy is the ever practical wise mother/matron and Winston, my schoolboy, just seems confused most of the time about what the big deal is between these three girls. So that’s our warm and fuzzy family. 

I will introduce Molly first. Merrill surprised me with this little bundle of delight just after we lost one of our beloved males one night to a car on the dirt road outside our trailer in Alberta. She was a tiny black and white kitten that grew up with Boo, our remaining male. Boo looked over his whiskers at an over- enthusiastic, bouncy kitten who had moved in just when he’d just lost his brother Greymalk but by the time she was half grown they were inseparable; buddies to the end!  Molly turned out to be rather too clever for her own good at times, even as a baby she’d get herself into trouble with her escapades. Oh the tribulations! 

She was originally raised to be an indoor cat; safety, longer life, health issues and all that. But she would jealously watch whenever Boo was let outside then she’d send up a pitiful wail all full of ‘Life’s just not fair!’ and hammer at the door until it was showing signs of being shredded, after that she dashed from window to window trying to see where Boo was outside. I remember her silently and resolutely plotting my downfall as she sat and scornfully glared at me; seeing I was unmoved by this expression of harrumph she adopted another scheme and would follow me from room to room as I opened the windows early on hot days to cool the trailer. Somewhere in her mind’s eye a strategy was forming.  

Maybe, just maybe if she pushed hard enough on the mesh that covered the open window, she could tear a hole in it and get outside. I became suspicious of her designs on my window screens too late when I realized she was suddenly and unusually too quiet, I went to check on her. Yep, that’s exactly what she did. Now a lovely cool breeze was coming through the flapping mesh along with every flying bug in the neighborhood to take up residence in my spare room. Arrrg!

One Saturday morning when Merrill was working on adjusting the pipes from the hot water heater to the underground tubing under the trailer, Molly found this a fascinating occupation to watch. She also found that she could just squeeze her little body through the opening and the great outdoors awaited. Unfortunately, it was later in the evening while I was wondering where she’d gotten herself to that I realized she might have gotten outside again. That sent hubby out the door, at my express command to crawl under the trailer with a flash light to find her, sitting rather uncertainly, on the end of the pipe at 10 o’clock at night and mount a rescue operation.

Eventually I just gave up and let her go out on supervised excursions when I was working in the garden. She quickly improved her techniques for avoiding capture when it was time to come in but Boo usually knew where she was and kept an eye on her. How she loved being outdoors exploring every nook and cranny of her environment.  

Thus started many an adventure with our new companion and family member that would eventually take us all on a cross Canada road trip from Penhold, AB to Prince Edward Island and to new, more bizarre adventures. 

Catspaw