Do They Really Need to Use THAT Word?

Tomorrow morning I will get up early (well "early" is a relative term...early during the school year is anything before 5 am, and early during the summer is anything before 9 am!). Oliver needs to be at the vet's office around 7:30 for his neutering.

When we were there two weeks ago, they gave me an estimate for the procedure and right there in black and white was the word. I know what neutering means for a cat or a dog, but do they really need to be so blunt about it? When I read it, I immediately squeezed my legs together (even though I'm female, I can still have compassion for male organs) and thought, "OW!" Yes, right there it was...CASTRATION.

Apparently Oliver got wind of what's going on because after spending most of his time inside the past several days, he saw a very slight opportunity for escape this evening, and OUT HE WENT!

Backing up a little, we've been keeping him inside so that he will be used to it after his neutering tomorrow. We've been letting him out at night, but last night we kept him inside. We've been trying to get him to use the litter box, but so far either he hasn't gone potty or we've missed seeing him use it. We haven't discovered any "accidents" so we're just not sure if he's going or not. We put him in there, and he immediately jumps out. This afternoon he went in on his own and Joey and I noticed but we wouldn't look at him directly because we thought it might make him jump back out if he knew he was being watched. However, out of the corner of my eye I could see that he was just sniffing around (hey, that's a start at least) and then he got out.

We let him outside this afternoon to see if he would go potty, but he only lasted almost 2 minutes out there. It's been in the 90s here the past few days and the humidity is really bad too. It's been fairly miserable. I was reluctant to let him out because the alfalfa field on one side of us was cut the other day and the hawks are flying around. Today they were baling it. On the other side of us, work is beginning on Ted's sister's new house. They have the basement dug out and I couldn't see what all they were doing down there today. So I didn't want Oliver to be in any danger, but I knew he needed to relieve himself. If he constantly holds it in, well, that can mean trouble for him and we certainly don't want that to happen.

So he stayed out for almost 2 minutes, then meowed at the door to be let back in.

Early this evening, right after dinner, we gave him a bath, so that when he gets home from the vet tomorrow he'll be clean and it will be fine to let him hang out on the bed and stuff, even though we've pretty much been doing it anyway.

He was NOT crazy about his bath. Find me a cat who is. Afterwards he just let me hold him in a towel (that we naturally warmed up in the dryer first) for a little while.

After he decided he'd had enough of being held, he got down and Ted said he was going to walk out to get the mail.

WHOOSH!!

Oliver was out the door and GONE! He only stopped for a few seconds to roll around on the grass, then he disappeared around the corner of the house.

Ted went after him and even tried to crawl under a truck over at his brother's house to reach Oliver, but as soon as he got close, Oliver ran out the other side. He walked quickly along the buildings on the farm and over toward some other homes. Ted lost sight of him and came back pretty upset. We were out back looking for him and Ted said, "You should have seen him. He was so happy to be out in the grass. He's an outside cat and we shouldn't be trying to make him an inside cat. He's gone for good. I just know he is. Don't be shocked when he doesn't come back."

This is Ted's way of dealing with things. He's a pessimist for the most part. I said that he would come back like he has been every night since he first showed up, and that he could be trained to be an indoor cat. I know that's the safest thing for him too.

Joey was at class tonight (yea for summer classes, yeah, right) but Alex, Ted, and I kept checking the doors for him, and listening for him to meow. Eventually Ted went to bed and Alex went to his bedroom. I was in the living room watching TV, but we all kept going to different doors looking for him. Joey had come home and he was concerned about Oliver too.

I felt pretty strongly that he would show up in the morning.

Suddenly I heard Ted get out of bed and open the door in our bedroom. I thought he was just looking for Oliver yet again, but then I heard a meow. Ted walked out with Oliver and didn't say a word, but put him on my lap.

I really think Ted wasn't able to say anything. He's much more attached to Oliver than he wants to let on.

But the important thing is that Oliver is back home now, and unbeknownst to him, is about to castrated tomorrow.

I hate that word.

Oliver

Almost two weeks ago, a cat showed up at the family farm. Apparently that cat took a real shining to Alex. However, we have two indoor cats, both female, and do not NEED another one. Therefore, I tried to find it a good home. If we just let it "hang out" around here, it would surely get hit by a car and killed.

Within about an hour this cat had a name. Oliver. In fact, Oliver Douglas; which may ring a bell for those of you oldtimers who remember the old "Green Acres" television show.

Well, Oliver is here to stay. Alex and I took him to the vet last Tuesday and had him all checked out. He's very healthy, does NOT have feline leukemia, and weighs 8 lb. 10 oz. I'm sure that close to a pound of that weight was gained since he showed up only 5 days before. When we first saw him, he was sooooooooo skinny. During one day, he ate 3 cups of dry food, a can of wet food, and drank 2 cups of water. Since then, he's slowed way down, but I think he was starved and dehydrated.

I also thought that he may have been an indoor cat. I mentioned this to the vet while we were there. I told him why I thought this, then asked him what he thought. His answer was, "I don't know. Let me ask him." It's always nice to have a vet who can be a smart a**.

Anyway, Oliver got his first set of kitten shots, even though the vet thinks he's about a year old. We made an appointment for him to get his second set in another couple of weeks. We also have an appointment for him to be neutered next Tuesday.

We've been letting him in the house on and off, but will try to have him be a total indoor cat once he's neutered. I have a feeling that's not going to be easy, but we'll give it a try. He shows up at the door off of our bedroom between 5 and 6 am each morning, meowing like crazy until we let him in.

Yesterday morning around 9:45 Alex found him on the back porch, eating a MOUSE! Alex, being a typical teenage boy, told me that there was blood all over the porch and Oliver was eating the mouse's gut, but the mouse was dead (thank goodness...I just hope the mouse didn't suffer long.). Alex went back to check on him again and Oliver was still there, but the mouse was gone. Alex hosed off the porch. I told him that "MouseBreath" was NOT coming in the house until he had something else to eat to get any mouse yuck out of his mouth.

Suffice it to say that Pepina and Marina aren't too happy with this turn of events. Pepina seems to be adjusting a little, but Marina will hiss at Oliver like crazy, then bat at him with her front paws and then growl. Pepina now just pretty much ignores him.

Last evening when Oliver was inside, he was sleeping on the floor. Ted got up off the recliner to lie down on the floor next to him so he could pet him while he slept. As soon as Ted got down there and stretched out, Oliver promptly jumped up onto the recliner and fell back to sleep. And then he slept there for a couple of hours. I guess it really wears you out to chase a mouse, catch it, and then eat it.

In my heart, I just couldn't turn Oliver away. I know I can't save the world, but at least this is one less cat that will have a rough life.

But THIS IS IT. NO MORE. I MEAN IT. I think.

A New Friend

The other evening Alex went over to AP and UT's (that's Aunt Patty and Uncle Tim for those of you who don't know...and they live off behind us a few hundred yards...and soon the family compound will be expanding, but that's a story for another time).

AP came over then and said that Alex had a new "friend." She said that someone must have dropped a cat off at the farm (part of the family compound) and Alex is the only person the male cat would let come up to him. I looked at Patty and said, "No way. NO WAY are we going to add another cat to our household!"

Patty laughed and said it may be too late. She said it was gray cat, that might only be about 6 months or so old and it seemed to be well taken care of. I told her I didn't want to see it and Alex was NOT to bring it over to our house.

Of course, the next thing I knew Alex was at the back door holding it. It looked so thin and scared.

I tried to ignore it. I really did. The last thing we need is another feline. We love Pepina and Marina dearly, but we trip over them and a third one wouldn't make things any easier. And besides, I don't like odd numbers, so we'd have to get another one to make it an even FOUR. (yeah, I know, it's a goofy quirk, but that's how I am)

Well...Alex put some water in a bowl and some dry cat food in a bowl and Oliver (okay, so we named him, sigh) ate like there was no tomorrow. Alex took an old beach towel and put it on one of the gliders on the back porch and that's where Oliver has spent most of his time.

Now here it is, two days later, and Oliver has more or less settled in on the back porch. He meows continually, and would come right in the house if we would let him, but we're not. We have no idea if he is carrying any diseases or anything and don't want him in contact with Pepina and Marina. Alex is the only one who has held him and when he comes in, I make him take his shirt off and take it straight to the laundry room, in addition to washing his hands and forearms.

"P" and "Mimi" (as we affectionately nicknamed them) have spent a lot of time at the screen door looking at Oliver and yes, even growling and hissing at him.

Since last night Oliver has eaten three cups of dry cat food and a can of Fancy Feast, in addition to drinking a couple of cups of water. I think he was starved and dehydrated.

Patty has said that if I decide to take him to the vet to have him checked out, she will split the cost with me. In my heart I know I should take him, but my common sense side says "Are you NUTS???"

We have french doors in our bedroom that lead to the back patio, and right now he's on the steps, meowing very loudly, looking inside. Pepina and Marina are out in the living room, so they are basically ignoring him.

What have I gotten myself into???