Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Countdown to Operation: Cat

Or cat operation, whichever you prefer.

This is the cat.


Doesn't he look nice? He's not. He can be, but he can also go from purring to slashing in a second. Whoever feeds or pets him has to have really fast reflexes to avoid the claws. He also sprays - the house, the shrubs, the patio furniture. Everything.

He is not an adoptable cat because of this aggressive behavior, so we wouldn't take him to the SPCA even if we could catch him, which we can't. We've tried. He is very wary of cages; in fact, he is wary of everything. Any sudden move or noise and he takes off like a shot. He did come in the house one time (there was food involved), and he was fine until I closed the door.

The neighbors across the street call him Tom, not because he is a tom cat, but from the cartoon Tom.
 
Hubby wanted to name him Socks and still calls him Socks sometimes. I call him the cat when I'm talking to other people, but I call him Kitty to his face. Tomorrow, the cat will probably call himself the victim.

Not that he cares what anyone calls him; he doesn't come to any of those names. He comes to KittyKittyKittyKittyKitty using a hyena-like voice. That means food. He comes to food and nothing else.

He's really a pretty worthless cat. Won't catch rats, mice, or birds. I saw him watch a rabbit hop by him and while he looked with interest, he didn't move. He doesn't play with leaves, or strings, or crickets, or any of the things other cats normally chase. He's just lazy. I don't know how he survived so long on his own until we started feeding him. He was much thinner then too.

So, that brings me to Operation: Cat

I called the vet last week, told him of our failure to catch said cat, and asked for Plan B. This vet always has a Plan B. This is the plan.

Today, at 1700, I pick up a cat tranquilizer from the vet.
Tomorrow, at 0700, I start the kitty call.
At 0800, I crush the pill and mix it with a teaspoon of tuna.
At 0805, I pet the cat (so he won't leave) until he falls asleep.
At 0900, I slip the unconscious cat into a pet carrier and take him to the vet.
At 1100, the vet gives him a rabies shot, and a quick snip, snip.
At 1400, I pick up the cat and take him home and get him out of the carrier before he awakes.
At 1500, the cat stops spraying and starts singing soprano.

The success of Plan B hinges on the reliability of a stray cat to show up in the morning.

Wish us luck.

Until next time, may you have blessings and sweet kitties,
Marti

(Part Two of this story here.)

4 comments:

  1. Marti, I really do wish you were my neighbor :-) I enjoy your posts so much. I think Kitty looks suspicous in the picture. I wish you the best of luck and the strongest of tranquilizers!

    Don't forget to let us know how this all turned out!

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  2. Thank you! Yes, he is giving me the evil eye. He didn't like me pointing the camera at him and started to run off. But I guess he didn't want to get too far from the food, so he sat under the table and glared at me.

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  3. He is really pretty! His personality sounds like Shadow, the "golden cat" post his exploratory surgery! He will bite like a wild cat at a moment's notice, but is an inside cat because my son and husband wisely had me de-claw him (with the vet's blessing) at the age of about 9 weeks. I hope this stops the spraying and makes him a little more gentle. Didn't do much for Shadow, but then at least he never learned to spray. He just bites. Love nips???

    I am so glad you are doing the right thing by him and getting the quick clips and the rabies shot.

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  4. That cat is beautiful! I love the gray ones...

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