Part three…

After a long debate, I had decided to adopt a shelter cat as a playmate for young Panther, which would give Yeti the peace an elderly cat deserves.

A fine plan, except that I soon discovered I had managed to choose an individual that detested all other cats. In fact, I hadn’t chosen Annie. The shelter volunteer had misunderstood me, I suppose, but I’d already decided to leave it in the hands of Fate.

Fate has a sense of humour, it seems!

Newly introduced cats are often stand-offish or even hostile to each other, yet given a few days they adjust and live together harmoniously. Often they become friends.

It was clear by the end of the first evening, Annie would never adjust.

She wished to be an only cat.

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The way she looked at me and clung to me made it seem she took me for the person who’d gone off and left her. I went to bed that night to toss and turn. The shelter would take Annie back, but I couldn’t bear the thought of doing it to this sweet cat. No. No way..

So now I had two cats that wished to be left in peace and one boisterous boy that was determined to make them play. I can’t remember what I did when I went to work, but I imagine I must have shut Annie in a room by herself, or maybe it was Panther I enclosed, although he would have made a fuss. Panther did not tolerate closed doors.

As I fretted about this pretty problem, a solution (of sorts) presented itself.

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A phone call announced itself. It was the lady who had asked me to foster Panther. If you rescue animals, there is never enough cash to go around. She had taken in a kitten that had been attacked by another animal and had to have its tail amputated, but there was no money to pay the bill.

Conveniently, the little lad was at the vet I was then using and it was soon sorted out.

“But,” I’d asked, “what will happen to the kitten?”

Next day, I drove to Covington to pick him up which is when I got a view of the premises in which the cat rescue was housed. There were cats literally hanging from the rafters. The owner was not a hoarder since she was obviously willing to give her rescues up for fostering or adoption, but she had far, far too many.

Keeping the numbers manageable is one of the hardest challenges in this sort of enterprise. The moment people become aware of your shelter or foster home, you are deluged with calls begging you to accept an animal they have rescued, – or wish to abandon, though they will never put it that way.

How do you say no to sad tales of woe if you are a soft-hearted animal lover?

In addition, a fair number of cats turn up on your doorstep of their own accord, as if they know they can hit you up for room and board.

Yet it does animals no favour to keep them in over-crowded facilities. Seeing the place that Panther and Cisco came from was a valuable lesson.

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Driving the new kitten home, I got behind a Sysco truck. I remembered that in my favourite film Dances with Wolves, Lt Dunbar’s beautiful horse was called Cisco. Perfect. At the time, my Cisco was all white but as he grew up he turned the same colour as that horse.

Panther was delighted! So too, therefore, were Yeti and Annie.

Now I had four cats. Hm. But that was fine. It was under control.

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A friend had adopted a kitten as company for her other cat, but whereas the resident cat was short-haired, the new one was fluffy and my friend’s allergies flared up.

So a work colleague was urged to take the kitten. In the end I suspect he might have caved, but by then I’d set eyes on the lovely little creature.

And she became number 5.

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Yeti was very laid back. She shrugged: “Another one?”

Panther swooned. It was love at first sight.

Annie was alright, because they all knew to leave her alone and Cisco was an agreeable little chap, so he was fine with the new headcount.

Looking back, I chastise myself. Adding all these cats to the household when Yeti had had me to herself for so many years was not fair. People used to ask me if she wasn’t lonely and maybe that was why I agreed to take Panther, which led to Annie, then to Cisco.

Taking Grisabel was self-indulgent. Deep down I suspect I was building a defense against the time fast approaching when I would lose Yeti. Not that I thought for a minute one animal ever replaces another.

When all those other cats came to join us, I purchased a small television for my bedroom and after supper Yeti and I retreated there alone so we could have quality time together.

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At the beginning of 2003, Yeti was diagnosed with kidney disease and before long I was giving her daily IV fluid. Not many cats will put up with being poked every day but she was such a trooper. She tolerated the treatment for about six months but she was growing weaker and one morning in November I knew she had had enough. I took her one last time to the vet and said goodbye to my dearest friend who had been with me for 17 years.

I came home to the the other 4 cats and the place felt so empty.

The loss hit me hard. I was a mess and once again caring colleagues came to my rescue.

Which is the next part of the story…

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