One cool October day, Mum came for a vizzie when I was still living at the River House. As we were walking out, I heard a faint meowing coming from the wood shed. Actually, it sounded more like Mmmm-OW-ing, as in rhymes with cow.
Me: What's that sound?
Mum: What sound?
Me: It sounds like a cat.
Mum: Well, don't feed it!
Scraggly & very thin, she looked like a tabby cat with no tail. She was on a log, scratching. After
the coast was clear Mum left, I took some dog food out for it. She leaped away, but when I got back onto the porch, I looked over to see her eating. We had some very cold days, so I fashioned a cat house for her on the back porch out of a dog crate.
As soon as she was on the porch, she was vying to be graduated from porch kitty to inside-the-house kitty! This, of course, was of great interest & entertainment to Maggie and Millie:
|And then they'd settle down to watch.|
And of course, it was too cold for me to insist she stay outside:
|"No it wasn't!" says Mum.|
And so in she came. I made that decision when I was talking to my friends Gareth & Lena. I hate litter boxes and Gareth said that their cat just went outside. So that's what I did. She never had an accident in the house, and I didn't have to do the litter box jig. *sigh* Those were the days!
|Snowy day & all cozy inside. :-)|
From the beginning, this was no ordinary cat:
|What you can't see from this angle is that it's a considerable drop down below!|
|It was a second story back porch.|
So she became an inside-most-of-the-time cat:
|See the notch in the right ear? That tells you she's been fixed. I didn't know this until chiro-sis said that's what they do with feral cats to identify which ones have been spayed or neutered.|
|No need for labels; all boxes & lids belong to Tabby.|
|In the middle of reorganizing, Tabby claims her spot.|
In my office, Maggie on her bed:
|"Hey! What're you doing there? Step away from my breakfast!"|
But then . . .
|Zzzzzz . . . .|
|Millie says Hullo.|
|And lets Tabby sleep on her bed.|
|Here's MAGGIE without a bed! But notice my slipper off to her side?|
One of the things a cat does best:
|Zzzzzz . . .|
Tabby at the M&M watering hole:
And whenever M&M went out, Tabby would go out, too:
|One of the characteristics of a Pixie-bob is they like to scratch wood.|
This was how Tabby told me she wanted to come in:
|*sigh* Hanging from the LR window screen.|
|I look at this pic & notice the branches behind for kindling in the wood stove.|
|And then jumping down.|
|Sitting at the top of M&M's ramp.|
|With Millie down below.|
|With Millie, around Xmas time or after. I actually kept the Fa-la-la-la-la decals up until I moved.|
|Tabby making her escape! See the girls wagging their tails at her all swishy-like?|
Spring time at the River House
|And with Maggie--as long as no food is involved!|
|Sitting by the bird feeder, up to no good!|
One sunny-springy day, Tabby decided to follow me when I was walking to the post box:
|See the dandelions all in bloom? Love that!|
|This is about as far as she came.|
|One of her favourite places; in the LR bay window.|
|"I can't be bothered to open my eyes, but Hullo."|
Summertime at the River House
|Sitting amongst the clover & plantain.|
In stealth mode:
|Ears forward, ready to spring.|
|"Should I get out of the way for Maggie? Meh. I'm a CAT."|
What is she staring at so intently?
|Oh. Run little squirrel! Run!|
|Tabby Bobcat on the porch with Millie; looks like they're both watching something intently!|
|Saying hello to Maggie when we got back from a trip out.|
By the labyrinth:
|Tabby reminded me of my cat Vixen that I had to leave behind in WV. She used to come join me in my labyrinth. And now I had Tabby to join me at the River House labyrinth. It was bittersweet. :-)|
And then we moved to
The Lake House
|First week in the new house; Tabby next to Millie, Maggie behind them.|
|On the front porch, Tabby sitting on the portable ramp.|
|Hanging out with Maggie.|
|Elder Huntzinger dubbed Tabby "Bob." Which was funny & mildly annoying because she's a girl.|
|Avoiding the snow!|
Back in my office:
|I was using this box to put stuff in.|
|Nom nom nom|
|New cardboard to chew.|
|Nom nom nom.|
Another day, another box:
|Can't leave it alone for a second!|
Oh, the places Tabby goes!
|Zzzzzzz . . . .|
In the back yard:
|A ferocious yawn!|
I walk to the post box and Tabby follows me to this spot:
Where she takes a dirt bath:
|Another day, another dirt bath.|
|Perching on the top rail. Cats have extra-large cerebellums for balance.|
Recently I gave Tabby a bath:
|I only got one scratch. ;-)|
And then came Bingo . . .
|Look at that sweet face. :-)|
|Behind the TV. Not happy. She took to climbing on every surface ABOVE Bingo.|
|But eventually she settled down.|
No pictures of it yet, but Tabby actually touch noses with Bingo today. Progress! In the meantime:
I have every excuse for not initially taking her to the vet when I first started caring for her. Going anywhere when I lived at the River House was a whole day's excursion--anyone who's been down that road, knows. After the move, it's been a whirlwind of --well, everything. It's been a year since the move, and I finally feel like I'm just catching my breath & getting settled.
So last week, I finally took Tabby to the vet to get microchipped--and to make sure she hadn't already been microchipped by a previous owner. We also got a rabies shot, etc. I told Dr. Morgan I thought Tabby was 2-3 years old.
Dr. Morgan: And she's been spayed?
Me: I think so. Her ear is marked & I've not had a surprise litter of kittens.
Dr. Morgan: That might be because this [indicating under the tail] is a boy.
Dr. Morgan: This [pointing to nether region] is where he was neutered. And see here [prodding & poking much to Tabby's displeasure] is his penis.
Dr. Morgan: She is a he.
So there you have it. Apparently, I'm unfamiliar with feline genitalia. I didn't see any testicles and had assumed Tabby was a SHE. It now makes me question the gender of Isis, another cat I had. But back to Tabby: he has not changed, but my perception of him has. The fearless warrior-princess cat I thought I had, is not that. So now it feels like I have a new cat--even tho he hasn't changed at all. One of my friends said with a twidge of sarcasm, "Now you know how Cher feels." It's taken some getting used to, but in the end, it doesn't matter. He's still my cat who trills at me as he jumps up on the sofa next to me and snuggles up.
|My sweet Bob.|