Sometimes things go right!

I’ve been so lucky in this rescue endeavor that I used to think “sometimes things do go wrong.” But it’s been such a challenging year so far, with the death of Mocha, the mite infestation and “gut problems” with Pokey, the presumed death of Grace (now gone 5 weeks) and the appearance of a gruesomely wounded Big Mike, that I had to invert that statement a bit. Were things ever going to go RIGHT again?

So when I finally caught Mike, almost two weeks after he first appeared, it was a happy affirmation. Nothing had been working – not traditional traps, not coaxing him into a carrier. I finally used the drop trap – that venerable Wile E. Coyote trick whose success depends on a stick, a string, and a good yank at the proper moment. Mike had clearly never seen one before, and walked right under it. When it came down around him, trapping him, he just gave me a look. Well, you got me.

I took him straight to Dr. Sue, who kept him all day, doing two surgeries – on his leg and neutering him – and treating him for a terrible mite infestation that had him covered with scabs. She also tested him for FIV (he’s poz, dammit) and gave him fluids, as he was badly dehydrated. I was fully freaked, imagining the price tag for his restoration could be close to $1000. When I got the bill, it was only $400. I was overwhelmed with gratitude.

He spent the first week at my house, in the big dog crate in my garage, and has been a very mannerly guest. Granted, he’s been all but at death’s door, so bad was his condition – and all he did for days was sleep hard (verging on unconscious) and eat when food was waved under his nose. After 4-5 days he began to perk up, and would meow-hiss when I appeared. (Kind of a hello thing that strays do.) And he’s never, ever, tried to scratch or bite me, and not only accepted my pets to his head, he rolled his head to the side in a display of affection. No purring yet, but this is a badly neglected kitty and it could take some time.

(Incidentally, I surmised that Mike could have belonged to someone – he has not been like a feral in that he’s let me pet him almost from day one. But whomever took care of him did such a shite job that I’m not even going to try to find his owner.)

He will not be an easy placement (hey, how about a kitty who walks with a limp and has FIV?) but he is going to be a love, I can just feel it. And I took him on and won’t give up on him until he has a life free of pain and abandonment.

I’m in Mexico now for a week, and before I left I took him to stay at Dr. Sue’s. His wounds are still not cleared up, and I didn’t want to put that on my petsitter. I miss him and feel anxious for his progress while I’m gone. St. Francis, take care of my new charge and let him continue to heal, so that he can know the power of love and devotion.