Six Little Gems

I'd like to introduce you to Marina and her 5 little girls, Garnet, Amethyst, Emerald, Topaz and Quartz. Garnet is completely black, the others are like feline Dalmations and I have no idea how I'll ever tell them apart when they get older!

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The reason I have them is quite a sad one really. The Little Miss kittens were ready to be rehomed, and the RSPCA, knowing how much I am longing to see kittens being born again, asked if I'd like to look after a Persian cat who was about to give birth.

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Because the previous kits had had a cold, my fostering room had to be disinfected and left for 48 hours before she could come to me. Unfortunately that very night she went into early labour and the kittens were stillborn. I'm very, very grateful that this happened at the RSPCA centre as she was in the best place possible and she would quite likely have lost her own life if she had been at my home.

But she has survived and she will now be neutered and rehomed. And as my home was ready and waiting, Marina arrived on Thursday along with her lovely 4 day old babies. She is a very gentle loving mum who very rarely leaves the kittens, and I think we will have lots of fun bringing them up together over the next 8 weeks.

Snotty Noses

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The kittens are still recovering from their colds. I have never seen cats with proper snotty noses before, but I've felt like I've had 5 two year olds this week. Trouble is when you wipe kittens' noses you can't tell them to blow, they just look at you as if you've gone even madder than normal!


I felt really bad for them as they have had a really bad dose of it, and I resorted to putting Vicks on towels on the radiators to try and clear their noses. The illness hasn't affected their eating or playing though, and my poor old curtains which have lasted through multitudes of kittens have really suffered through the clambouring and climbing!
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Because they have colds they are not able to go back to the RSPCA to be rehomed in case they pass their germs on. This means they are much later going back than they should be.

Because it's only the beginning of the kitten season they will still find homes really quickly as anything under a year is snatched up at this time of year. But I do feel as though their future owner is missing out on the very best of times.

I don't think you can beat the feeling you get when you are walking in from a hard day at work and open the door to be greeted by 5 eager little faces all absolutely ecstatic to see you and the melody of purrs when you sit with them to play. Who can be stressed in the midst of simple pleasures like these?
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History of Cats - The Black Death

Due to my love of all things feline, I decided to do a bit of research on the history of cats. I am no historian and rely on the internet for my facts - please forgive me if I've made any glaring mistakes :)

I hope you find the results interesting.

1. Cats and the Black Death

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The Black Death or Bubonic Plague raged throughout Europe during the early 14^th Century and hung around until the 19^th Century. Around a third of the population of Europe died..

Before this time, cats had been associated with Satan and witches, many seeing their aloof nature and the fact that they were independent, not subservient, as proof that they were in league with the Devil. Pope Gregory the IX had stated that cats were "diabolical" in the early 13th Century and it became a very popular pastime for cats to be killed en masse. Their population levels dropped significantly.

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When infected rats started to arrive in grain cargo from Asia, they flourished due to the lack of predators, infecting more rats and increasing in population. This is considered by some to be a large factor in the spread of the disease.
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As the plague gained strength, the cat started to be associated with God’s wrath against sin, and even more were killed in the hope of appeasing God and stopping the plague. Dogs were not safe during this time either, and they also started to dwindle in number. Ironically, the very creatures that could have helped contain the disease were blamed and killed.

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The Old and the New

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It's been a very busy week in the JoeyGrey household. The mum cat started sneezing last week, the day after my last blog post, and it gathered momentum until she was constantly sneezing by the evening. She had no runny nose or eyes, so I wondered if perhaps she was reacting to my automatic air spray rather than getting cold or the dreaded cat flu. So the air spray was demoted to front room duty, but by the next morning one of the kittens was sneezing too.

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A quick call to the RSPCA and they came to fetch them and zoomed them off to the vet. The vet allayed my fears of cat flu and said mum just had a bit of cold and need antibiotics. The kittens would get the treatment through mum's milk, so nothing too terrible.

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The RSPCA close at 4.30pm and I work till 5.30pm, so couldn't meet them at home, therefore they brought the cat and kits to my work. I had to leave the office for 20 minutes so left them in my colleague's capable hands, safely in their cat baskets but with lots of attention. When I came back into the office, there were 5 other people laid, sat and crammed into different nooks and crannies in my office, all with a kitten on their various laps and chests and mum cat strolling round the office desks and laying happily on my work!

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Everyone spent a very pleasant hour doing absolutely no work whatsoever and the kittens got more attention than they've had in their whole 6 weeks!

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When I got them home I got another call from the RSPCA to let me know that Thomas had been reserved and was off to his new home the next morning. I was a little choked up but so very pleased for him that he had been picked out so quickly and was off to his new life. It makes it all worthwhile.

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A Pile of Kits

So, I've had the kittens for a full day and they really are the cutest little things. They are quite small for their age - they will be 6 weeks old on Thursday - but what they lack in size they make up for in energy. They are just at that age where they are chasing things and tumbling over each other and doing the sideways crab-walk attack on their mum's tail.
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For all their energy though, they are very chilled out kittens, just like their mum. It's the first time I've seen this many kittens happily take feeding time in shifts. When I go into them, there are often just two feeding and the others are either happily playing or sleeping in a pile until it is their time.

Whenever I get new kittens to look after I bring down the basket of toys for them. They get a couple of days to explore it and decide which are their favourite and then it gets reduced to a smaller more manageable basket. Their favourites this time are a piece of netting that they pounce on and hide under and the tunnel, nicely modelled by the little cherub above, at the moment named Kitten number 2.

They are great at climbing - here is Kitten Number 1 looking very proud after climbing Mount Cat Basket. And below is the Pile of Kits after a hard hour's play.

Out of the Frying Pan

So I went to see Thomas today. It was 5 days since I last saw him and I felt a lot calmer about the whole thing - I was pretty sure that Thomas would be settled and hopefully someone would have fallen in love with him and reserved him already.

When I got to his chalet there were people in with him. Thomas was in the corner being stroked and purring his head off. Once they came out I went in and sat with him. He wasn't clingy or needy like he was last week. I played with him and tickled his tummy and he came and sat on my knee. But then he wandered off and sat in the corner cleaning himself. I quickly realised that he wasn't going to be upset when I went, if he noticed at all. The people who had been looking at him before came back after 10 minutes so I left him and he didn't give me so much as a glance.

I had very mixed feelings as I'm sure you can imagine. I want him to forget me and to settle with someone new, but at the same time I did feel a little bit snubbed.

When I got back to the reception and told them what had happened they laughed and sympathised, and generally made me feel better.

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Then they asked how soon I would be ready to foster again. To cut a long story short, I left half an hour later with a young mum and her five x 5 week old kittens!!!!!

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Goodbye Thomas

Thomas went back to the RSPCA to be rehomed last Thursday lunchtime. I have been trying to prepare myself for this - it is always a wrench when you have had a cat or kitten for a while, but I bonded with Thomas as soon as I met him, and because of his injuries I've had him for longer then normal. So I knew this time it was going to be particularly difficult.

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The RSPCA driver knows me well by now. He left me alone to say goodbye and stayed at the side of his van while I gave Thomas a last cuddle. I had the biggest lump in my throat as I took Thomas out to him, but managed to hold the tears back.

I stayed remarkably upbeat about it all for the rest of the day, and only got upset when I got back home and he wasn't on the windowsill to greet me. The RSPCA had asked if I would like to visit him on the Saturday to help him settle in and I jumped at the chance. When I got there I was so excited I actually felt quite embarassed at myself!

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He was hissing and spitting at everyone - possibly because that is the first place he went after being found injured and he associates it with the pain he was in at the time. His picture is now the screensaver on all of the pcs at the shelter as an example of when NOT to approach a cat!

Within a minute he was back to the big purry tractor that I know so well, we were both so glad to see each other. I spent 20 minutes with him and then I went back again on Sunday and this time spent nearly an hour with him. He never stopped purring the whole time I was there. I hope it helped him to start associating the place with nicer feelings. I really want possible new families to see him as a big purry cat, not as a scary demon cat!

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I'm going back tomorrow and feel like I'm visiting an old friend. I hope when I get there he is happy and doesn't need me anymore. But I'll be gutted if he doesn't.

A Stressful Night

The birth of the first kittens was something I was living in great anticipation for. Cats are pregnant for less than 3 months, so not long really, but I felt as though Fudge was pregnant for years! She is a very slight cat, so it was very obvious that she was pregnant, especially when she had been laying on her side and got up but her tummy stayed suspended in midair for a few minutes!

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She used to lie at the side of me and I would put my hand on her tummy and feel the babies moving. It was almost as exciting as if I had been having a baby!

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One night, about 2am, I was awoken with what sounded like a loud alarm clock from downstairs. I then realised it was an animal of some kind and thought the cats had brought something in with them. I crept downstairs very carefully in case it was a rather vocal mouse (I know!! But I was half asleep!), and there was Fudge at the bottom of the stairs walking backwards and forwards, and Scribble stood over something licking it. It was the “something” that was making the noise.

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I shooed Scribble away and realised it was a kitten. Fudge was totally disinterested in her baby and Scribble had taken on the "uncle-ly" duties of cleaning it up. It was obviously distressed and Fudge was just walking around purring, so I got a clean towel and picked the poor creature up and started rubbing it. I was in shock and had tears streaming down my face as I thought it was going to die. Then Fudge started to give birth to another baby, so I encouraged her towards the big box with sheets in that I had ready for her. She ignored it and just continued to walk around the room while giving birth. I put the first baby in the box and waited. The second baby dropped out and Fudge walked away without a second glance.

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I picked this baby up and rubbed it with the towel. It was about 3am and I finally started to think logically and came to the decision that there was no way I could care for these babies myself and that if Fudge wasn’t going to look after them I would have to let nature take its course. So I put the kittens into the box, shut Fudge in the dining room with them and went up to bed to cry my eyes out.

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I lasted an hour, then came back down. There was Fudge in the box with 3, and later 4, beautiful kittens, all feeding. She was looking at me with a calm face, lots of purrs and a look of “see, I knew what I was doing, you stresshead!”

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The Pitter Patter

Scribble

Fudge

I still thought at this point that Scribble was a girl and Fudge a boy. I had no idea about the number of kittens that go homeless and the fight the RSPCA has to get cats neutered at this point. I had decided that Scribble would be allowed to have a litter or two of kittens, whereas Fudge would be neutered to stop "him" wandering. I dreamed of a house full of tiny long haired grey kittens.

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Scribble and Fudge

My first trip to the vet with them changed my ideas slightly. He told me I had them the wrong way round, and Scribble was the boy. (Thankfully their names weren't sex dependent). And he was very negative about my idea of Fudge having kittens. He was the first person who mentioned to me the problem there are with so many unwanted cats. But I thought he was just being a misery, and I wanted kittens so much that I stuck to my guns.

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I thought that as Fudge was Scribble’s sister there was still a chance of long haired kittens from her gene pool, but as it happened Fudge obviously didn't pass either that gene or the grey gene to her kittens. She had two litters, all of them black and white, or just solid black.

Once the first ones were born, I really didn't care what colour they were. They were the most amazing thing that had happened. I was literally awe inspired by them. I would race home at lunchtime and eat my food as quickly as possible and then sit on the floor at the side of Fudge and the babies just watching them. I took hours of video of them just moving around, feeding and sleeping. I am a very sad case!!!

The Long Journey Home

I almost turned round and took Scribble back within 10 minutes of driving away from the farm. My sister had come with me and we had them both snuggled in a blanket in a box in the back of the car. But Scribble was crying. And crying. And crying. So my sister picked him up and he laid on his back while she tickled him and stroked him and he purred. But she felt sorry for Fudge on her own in the back, all quiet and scared, so she swapped them over. And Scribble cried and cried and cried. I did discuss with my sister the wisdom of having a cry baby cat, and wondered if we should take him back and swap him. But I couldn't change my mind now, I'd have always regretted it if I had.

Scribble continued to be a cry baby. He cried to be fed, he cried to be cuddled, he cried just for the sake of it. I loved him totally, and yet was constantly infuriated by him. He was possibly the most needy cat I had ever met! But at the same time he was the love of my life. I could pick him up and hold him in my arms like a baby and he would lie there purring his head off. He slept on my bed, curled up in my arms. He was more loyal than any man could have been.

Fudge was a totally different creature. She was shy and always bottom of the ranking when other cats were around. She never particularly needed me, but was happy enough to be cuddled if I wanted to. I love her very much, but she is an independent little creature. She is a calm, serene cat who has never scratched or bitten and rarely cries or fights. She is a terrific mouser - I've had rats, birds and a bat left for me so far as well as multitudes of live and dead mice.

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I keep telling myself it’s the thought that counts.

Scribble and Fudge

I have always had a thing about grey cats. Not sure why, but from being young at home I always longed for a grey cat. We had every colour you can imagine over the years, and loved them all, but I still looked longingly at pictures of these beautiful grey creatures.

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When I finally got my own place and a job that was close enough to home to make it possible, the first thing I did was to start looking for the grey kitten (or two) I had always wanted. After a long fruitless search I finally spotted an advert in the admag, someone on a farm in Chesterfield had a whole litter of grey kittens. My wheels hardly touched the road and I was there within the hour!

The most beautiful kittens I've ever seen were waiting for me - 2 long haired and 2 short haired. I was sorely tempted to take them all, but felt that two was enough, (if I'd known then that my house would be constantly full of cats within two years, I'd have taken them all in a heartbeat). I looked them in the eyes and picked one of each. I didn't actually know how to sex kittens at that point, so took the farmer's word that the long haired was female and the short haired male. Scribble and Fudge. The beginning of a love affair!!

Spring has Sprung

Spring is here at long last! I love snow so much, but even I have got just a little bit tired of it now. My cats usually spend a good 70% of their time out of doors throughout the year, but for the last 3 months they have become house cats. This is through their choice rather than mine!

I leave the cat flap open for them, but they have decided it is a window rather than a door. They sit in my porch looking out at the weird white stuff that has taken over the world, and nothing short of a fire would get them out of the house and even then I think they would be torn!

Even today with the sun shining brightly and not a sign of snow, they have been very wary of the big bad outdoors. What if the white stuff comes back while they are out and they can't get to their biscuits in time?



They were finally encouraged with a good firm push to take the risk, and they lasted for the whole of 3 minutes before they were back again.


This 3 minutes of the outdoor life seems to have had a drastic effect on them though. I am currently sat on my settee while 3 wild cats chase around and around the house like crazy beasts. It is amusing and annoying as I have just sat back down after cleaning up my spilt tea from the carpet. It really does feel like there is a herd of elephants chasing each other up and down stairs.


I do look forward to the time when they start to go out again - I love my cats to pieces, but enough is enough.

It seems that spring has entered the JoeyGrey household. And not a minute too soon!

In praise of the Wubba

When you get your first cat, (or your thirty-first), if you are like me, you can't wait to rush out and buy it some "essentials", like sticks with feathers on, bouncy balls that go missing after 2 minutes and vibrating and/or running mice.

I have a big box in the loft full of the many, many items that I've been sure will be loved by all my feline friends. The truth is that they show a passing interest in each item but it can never be said to be a lasting love. I bring the box down each time I get a new house guest, let them pick what they will play with and then back up it goes.

But I've at last found a toy that all three of my cats and my foster cat love. And when I say love, I mean not only the "like intensely" kind of love, I'd go as far as to say the romantic kind of love.

This fabulous item is called Kong Wubba. They lay with their faces on it, they lick it, they rub their noses on it, they fall asleep with it in their "arms". When they get tired of loving it they bite it ferociously, kick at it with their back legs, and then go back to cuddling it better again. I have to make them take turns with it now to make it feel fair!!

Here is what remains of mine and what it should look like: -

I ought to add, I have no connection with the makers of this item and simply felt the need to share my wonderful find.