a gentle place

Posted By Harry on July 11, 2010

Tobi about to curl up next to son Thomas

A gloved little finger inserted up a feral cat’s rear end is not the recommended way to tame a feral cat but that’s how Tobi – currently curled up on the bed between my legs – and I became mates.

Tobi’s the daughter of Tabatha,  Avondale’s original feral cat. The cat that taught Sue and I that environmentalism and animal advocacy aren’t always practiced comfortably together.  The usual shades of black and white that environmental and animal rights activists tend to live by collide in a kaleidoscope of shades of grey when introduced animals are considered, and felus catus, having had a calamitous impact on Australia’s native ground-dwelling birds and marsupials since her introduction, is a prime catalyst for fervent debate. This neighbourhood debate was had but animal advocacy always wins out at Avondale: Sue and I set about feeding Tabatha in preparation for trapping her and de-sexing her.  That was the well-thought out plan … Tobi is the product of that failed plan.  Even worse, 10 weeks before I donned that surgical glove Tobi herself had given birth to 3 kittens, although this time Sue had been quick off the mark and tamed the 2 surviving kittens, Thomas and Jerry, and had them neutered and spayed respectively. It was now Tobi’s turn for the same fate but her taming was proving somewhat harder.

Kittens Jerry, Thomas & Sylvester

As D-day for Tobi’s capture (taming could wait) and trip to the vet approached we noticed a marked change in her behaviour: she no longer seemed to be leaving the hay shed and she’d also developed a strange gait.  On investigating we found the top hay bales polka-dotted with rock-hard feline excrement and the sweet hay smell of the shed replaced by the acrid odour of cat urine.  Tobi was also more willing to get close to us, but every time we approached her she swung her hind end around and lifted her tail.

An a-ha moment followed (fortunately) and with Sue lightly holding her I studied her rear end – Tobi was constipated to the point of faecal impaction; she would not be able to relieve herself no matter how hard she tried.  Hence the repeated rear end swings pleading for our help.  Daily small manual faecal disimpactions followed.  Tobi would come down to me from off the top hay bales as I entered the shed.  She’d allow me two “retrievals” (apologies to those of you who have a visual way of relating to what you read!) and on the third attempt would release a gentle meow and scamper back up the bales.  No biting, no scratching, no hissing. Feral?

Tobi a fortnight before her spinal injury

When spaying Tobi the vet diagnosed a low spinal injury – hence the strange gait and faecal impaction. We assured the vet we could care for her and took her home to Avondale; her gait improved, and laxatives and enemas soon became unnecessary. Tobi was back to being a normal cat, albeit with feral traits that stopped her from following her son Thomas through the dog flap and onto Plato and Chelsea’s mats!

Her health problems had unfortunately just begun though: a year later she was diagnosed with feline leprosy and rapidly developed growths all over, including inside her mouth.  After 4 weeks of twice daily medicating her (she still lived in the shed at this time and could easily have avoided me), with her lesions getting larger and more numerous, we considered the intervention not to be in her best interests and I stopped the twice daily ritual.  We promised each other we’d take her to the vet when it was time.

But after 2 weeks of worsening Tobi’s lesions suddenly lessened in size.  By 3 months only 2 small lesions remained and the vet requested we bring her in for photos as he was writing up her “miraculous” recovery.  But again the relief was short-lived …

Less than a year passed and Sue and I found Tobi cold and listless in the hay shed.  The vet proclaimed there was little hope but assured us he’d do all he could.  We did not expect her back.  24 hours later we were convinced of that.  But at 48 hours Tobi was stealing the hearts of the veterinary staff with her head rubs and rumbling purrs.  And 9 days later she returned home. This time with a diagnosis of chronic renal failure!

Tobi & Thomas sleeping between my legs

Our lives have changed a lot in the year and a bit since: Tobi has become expert at the dog flap and spends every night (and every cold, rainy day) inside, either on our bed or on Plato’s mat.  She’s perfected her head rubs and takes every opportunity to get the same back from Plato, Chelsea, Sue or I. And three times a week she knows I’ll give her subcutaneous fluid to compensate for her renal failure; she sits patiently on the desk while I give her 50 ml, refill the syringe, and give her another 50. And me? I’ve learnt to sleep with legs open wide enough to fit 2 cats at mid-thigh level. I’ve learnt how to contort my body so that my upper half rolls over while my lower half fails to disturb these slumbering cats. And I’ve learnt that Tobi will go when she’s ready. She’s just not ready now.

(PS This is a great site for anyone who looks after a cat with chronic renal failure.)

Categories: Animals & us
Tags: Animal advocacy, Cats, Environmentalism, Feral cats, Introduced species