Do You Know Your Cats' History?

tarasgirl06

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tabbytom tabbytom As cute as he is now, he was equally cute then! LOVE a big-eared, big-eyed tabby boy. Our beloved Samuda was both. Everyone remarked about what big eyes he had, throughout his life.
And Sonatine Sonatine , I wish the same about all of my beloved cats who have come to me as adults. Elvis must have been an adorable little blue/cream kitten, a "character" as his dad described him, even then.
 

kittyluv387

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I really enjoyed reading everyone's stories! So sweet..

Benny - I adopted him from the local no-kill shelter when he was 4.5 months. My first kitty as an adult. He was brought in with his other 2 siblings by a lady at 3 months. He had to deal with being sick with a URI and getting neutered before he could he ready for adoption. He was the last kitty left. His siblings were non-black and they were scooped up first. Lucky for me I say! He is intensely attached to just me and has silky fur.

Nemo - He was an abandoned cat living in the bushes at my previous apartment. Cautious but friendly enough to get some food from residents. I know he was abandoned because I took him to Animal Services and they already had him on file and he was a little over 2 years old! He was already neutered and everything. I gave his original owner a chance to claim him but they never did. His personality at the time wasn't what I was looking for but I adopted him out of duty. He ended up being a giant cuddly teddy bear so I'm glad I adopted him.

Skye aka Kitty - I adopted her from a neighbor at the same apartment. She lived upstairs and was an indoor cat for a while but they suddenly started making her an outdoor cat which she did not want. She's a people cat and wants to be where her person is. I suspect neighbor pushed her out because she was pregnant or something. Her and her husband were living in a 1 bed apartment with a large dog. She kept that dog though. The dog was hers and not her husband's. Skye was 5 when we adopted her. Again, we feel so lucky to have her. She loves people and is super cute.
 

jefferd18

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I know nothing of Jeff's past. She came into my back yard seven years ago and when I questioned my neighbors, nobody seemed to know a thing about her. It was like she fell out of the sky one day and landed in my yard.

When I first met Jeff she was up there in age, petrified of humans, and appeared to be tired of life. The person who had Jeff TNR lost out in meeting one of the kindest, gentlest and most loving soul, who had ever walked on this planet.

I am considering sending off a blood sample to see if somebody can at least identify what breed she may have been.
 
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tabbytom

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Eeeee little January! He was so cute and angry when he was tiny. And he's grown into a beautiful cat!

I wish I'd seen my cats as kittens. I wonder if I can get kitten pictures of Mischief through the rescue, since they were probably involved with her from the time she was born... I'd hate to waste their time but I'm really curious.
Yes, he's a cute l'il fella and great to see him grown from a scrawny kitten.

If you can, take lots of photos of Mischief as kittens grow up pretty fast.

tabbytom tabbytom As cute as he is now, he was equally cute then! LOVE a big-eared, big-eyed tabby boy. Our beloved Samuda was both. Everyone remarked about what big eyes he had, throughout his life.
And Sonatine Sonatine , I wish the same about all of my beloved cats who have come to me as adults. Elvis must have been an adorable little blue/cream kitten, a "character" as his dad described him, even then.
Yea, I love his big eyes and missed his big ears when he was a kitten and sometimes he just impersonate a Savannah cat :lol:
 
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jefferd18

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My boy is a rescue and he was double dumped :( :angryfire:

First he was found all alone and was rescued by someone and was dumped again the minute he was brought home.

He was around 3-5 weeks old at that time, scrawny and hungry with a big open wound near his bum.

History of first dumping no one knows. Could have been dumped and abandoned by humans because of the open wound or he was born feral and got bitten or attacked when he was a kitten and was abandoned by the momma cat.

Second dumping history is I'm sure because he was discovered that he has an open wound and he was scrawny and dirty looking due to his color and the home he's supposed to be in already has a beautiful white cat and he was not allowed in :agree:

I was told that there's a kitten at the stairs landing which he was left out overnight after he was rescued and dumped again and when I approached him, he saw me and he started to meow and in his weakness, he climbed over the box and greet me as in 'My Savior and My Slave'! :lol:

I carried him and I saw the big gash and I said, you have to go to the vet and I took him in the very next day. At the clinic, the vet then asked me, "So, what are you going to do with this kitty, I told her I'm keeping him and that put a big smile on the vet's face as she supports people who rescue cats.

This is him (in protest) about to go to the vet.
View attachment 300506

Home after the coming back from the vet
View attachment 300507

This was taken a month back at 3 years 8 months old
View attachment 300508

I'm so glad that I took him in and now he is a very happy cat :hearthrob: :redheartpump:
WHAT A CUTIE! He grew into those ears. :)
 

Rhall

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All 3 are from my local cat rescue.

Ellie - was rescued from a barn cat who had kittens.

Ollie - found malnurished as a 7 week on kitten found on a rainy night under a car in our city's south end. He still darts when frightened, probably the behaviour that kept him alive.

George - found with his siblings on our Indigenous reserve in the country.
 

Purr-fect

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We adopted Greg and Arnold from a family who had advertised them on kijiji.

The family was moving to Florida and didnt think the cats would fare well with their long fur and large size in floridas hot humid climate.

The boys were already a year and a half old when we met them, so I never knew them as they grew up.

The cats hadnt been named and the owners simply called them the boys. We named them greg and arnold.

I WISH I had pictures of them as kittens. I would also like to know the cats breeds. The owners said they were a mix of blue russian and another breed, but couldnt remember the second breed.

We invited the owners to stay in contact with the cats, gave our email, offered to send pictures and invited them to visit if they were back in town. We never heard from them again.

I would have liked them to know how happy greg and arnold have made us, how happy the boys are, how well they are cared for and the great lives they have.

20190728_080237-1.jpg
 
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Sonatine

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If you can, take lots of photos of Mischief as kittens grow up pretty fast.
I think the ship's sailed on that one:lol:. Mischief was already pretty grown when she came home with me!

IMG_2214.JPG


She's still as cute as any kitten even though she's about 1.5 years old and has a really weird lanky build.
 

jcat

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When we adopted Mowgli at 9 months, the only info we had was that he'd been surrendered because he didn't get along with the resident cat in his first home, and that he'd originally been adopted from that shelter. His records had been misplaced.

When his file was finally found, we learned that he'd been found in an empty rain barrel on a property adjacent to a feral colony. Two other motherless black kittens of the same age were nearby. Two (Mowgli and Ben) were socialized and adopted out, but the third, Willie, remained feral and was integrated into the shelter's feral colony. He died of kidney failure nearly two years ago.
 

Boris Diamond

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Diamond was left on the desk at the office of the vet I used to use. Someone put him on the counter and said, "Someone dropped off this cat outside," and quickly left. No one could catch her before she was gone. One employee took him home and another paid for his neutering. I adopted him about a month later. He does not get along with other cats, though he is devoted to me.

Seal is an ex-feral born in the barn next to my house. I felt a bond with him even though he would not get closer than ten feet. When he was eight months old, I trapped him, had him neutered, vaccinated and dewormed. He is sweet but shy and a special cat.

Leonid is a Siberian. He was given to me by the breeder when my first Siberian passed young. She said he was big and dominant. He is all that, and a very affectionate and handsome kitty, too. And I belong to him, of course. :p
 

Winchester

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Amber Louise was found in town when she was a five week old kitten. The lady was worried that she'd never make it through the winter, so she asked me if I'd take her. She brought her over to me (in the trunk of her car!) at work, I took her down to the vet for a check-up and her kitten shots and she's been here ever since.

Mollipop and her siblings were born at the local animal hospital. We had taken Boo and Pepe in for their physical and the receptionist mentioned that they had kittens. She took me back, I saw Molli and the rest is history. I met her when she was four weeks old and went down to the hospital three times a week at night to be with her; the staff would bring her out to waiting room where I'd talk to her while she was nuzzling my neck and ear. It got to where she started fussing at the time I usually came down, so one night the hospital called to tell me that I could pick her up the next day, a week early.

Tabitha (Tabby) was about five weeks old when she showed up in our neighbor's driveway. The neighbor called me and asked what to do about her. I immediately took food over to the kitten and she was starving. She happily jumped into my lap and started gobbling away. When I took her supper over that night, the neighbor came out and said, "You can't feed her anymore. I don't want her here and I'm getting rid of her." I looked at Tabby and said, "Guess it's you and me, kid!" She said, "OK! The food is good!" And on the way over to our house, she said, "You can call me Tabitha! Tabby is good, too." WW III erupted when the two of us went into the basement where Rick was working on a project. I promised Rick I'd find a good home for her. And I did. She became our seventh RugCat. FWIW, Rick adores that cat. She can do no wrong in his eyes. (We found out later that, had we not taken Tabby in, the neighbor was going to take her for a ride out somewhere and then throw her out the window. His wife actually told Rick that.)

Muffin was my mother's cat. She was found, abandoned in a house as a kitten. A woman was walking by and heard her meowing. The door was unlocked, so she walked in and there was Muffin, huddled in an empty room. Picked her up, took care of her, and when Mom decided she absolutely needed a cat, she gave her to Mom. When Mom went into a nursing home, Muffin needed a new home. My brother outright refused to take her (they were not getting a cat, so he said). My sister already had a houseful. Muffin became our eighth and final RugCat.

So that's our current four.
 

Purr-fect

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As i read these stories, I find part of the joy and love we share with our cats is often due to the circumstances in which they came into our lives. What greater bond can there be when one has literally saved the live of their companion.
 

ezwriter

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I know the history of 4 of my 5 cats, because they were born under my bed!

Their mama, my 1st cat, I only know that she was owned by some people in my apartment complex who never got her spayed (obviously!) and abandoned her. I know which apartment they lived in. I know as a kitten she played with their neighbor's dog Tiny, although by the time I got her, she was no longer dog-friendly. I know after she was left behind she lived outside for a time, but I don't know for how long. I know some of the neighbors referred to her as "Stachey" because of her moustache. I was told by neighbors she had two prior litters before she had the litter under my bed. That's about all I know.
 

TobiDaDog

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Sirvester-Many, many years ago, my boyfriend (long before he met me) found himself hiding in the garage to catch whatever was getting into the dog food. He heard a noise and stood, only to find that the dog food container was knocked open but empty. After a look under the car, he found a scrawny little black and white cat with big, frightened green eyes.

He was quite unusual looking with a massive neck, broad head, flat face and big eyes. He looked exactly like one of the neighbor's cats, a massive black tom named Scrapper. (He has since become his carbon copy...we assume that this was his father.)

He coaxed the little cat out and made friends with him, then got him something to eat. For about two years after that, the little cat (who got bigger and more muscular by the day) would come back every couple of weeks with new battle scars and new girlfriends.

He always seemed to come back when he needed help. Once he nearly lost his tail due to a raging infection, and he came back 'home' and sat still every day to have antibiotics shot into his tail.

He was a scrapper to end all scrappers, which was part of the reason he wasn't allowed inside. Bf's housecat was very soft hearted and got beat up on more than one occasion by this big tom cat. He is known to have flat out killed two strays at different times for getting in his way. It couldn't be risked.

Sometime around then I came along, just in time to witness him become 'our' housecat. The other housecat had recently passed away, but Sir was gone. He hadn't shown up for weeks. Everyone thought he was dead.

One winter he came hobbling down the street with his paw the size and shape of a pancake. It was completely nonfunctional, cold, and black. He was rushed to a vet, who determined from the shape of the wound that he had likely been caught in a fox trap. The only thing that saved him was frostbite...some of the toes had fallen off and let him go free.

The vet was going to amputate, but decided to test him for FIV first. He tested positive. The vet came back and just...flat said that he was about to put him down. Needle in hand.

Of course that didn't fly. He was disgusted that we allowed the cat to live with his disease and said that he would likely soon die anyway. He said that he would NOT amputate or even treat him beyond that point. Essentially he was kicked out of the office.

Over the next few days, the paw fell off on its own, leaving a clean, healed stump. It only hurts him during cold weather and he still uses it to stand and walk.

We eventually found a second vet that was much more compassionate and gave Sir a clean bill of health otherwise. He has since lived with us indoors for about eleven years and he is the best housecat anyone could ask for.

To this day, no cat can even pass by the screen doors without him lunging, trying to break the screens out to go kill the intruder. The only cat that he has EVER accepted is Reese. We don't know why. The moment I brought her home he ran to the screen door, calling for her like a mama cat. When she was outside, they used to sleep back to back through the door. He just...decided that she was his.

Reese-Last July, my dog was begging to go outside at midnight for some reason...I got up and let her out, and she started barking at something in the parking lot across the street. I could hear a tiny kitten screaming its head off, as if it was desperately trying to call for help. It was relentless.

I ran over with some ham in hand and found her there, huddled under a street lamp shrieking at the top of her lungs. I managed to coax her over with some ham, which was hard at first because she was absolutely terrified. But the moment I grabbed her and scooped her up, the screaming stopped and she started to purr.

I didn't realize how sick she was at that time, so after she calmed down I put her back on the ground and started to walk home to grab some things. (I was going to make her a bed with food and water and hope that she'd find her way back to her own home)

After a few steps a heard her screaming again. I turned and saw her stumbling across the parking lot after me. She couldn't even stand straight. I knew then that I could not leave her. She spent the night warm in my garage. I stayed up most of the night with her because every time I left she would scream again. She couldn't even eat a meal without crying through every mouthful.

Come morning I realized just how sick she really was. One of her eyes was completely crusted shut, you could feel every bone in her body, and her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth and swollen from dehydration, she could not move one back leg correctly, her female parts were leaking white puss, and every time she tried to pee, only blood came out. She was also filthy and absolutely COVERED in cockleburrs. Which is strange because we live in the city?

The first day I wasn't even sure what color she was because she was so dirty. I dipped her in a bath to try to rehydrate her and the water turned grey. She had black and brown paws before...after they were light cream.

I rushed her to a vet, at which point she started losing control of her bowels completely. They said that her organs were shutting down from starvation. I could not afford overnight care and she was going to be put down if I left her, so I was sent home with a box of supplies. A can of wet food, a feeding syringe, a bag of sub Q fluids, and a syringe longer than her entire body.

I spent the next week force feeding a limp, nearly lifeless kitten, pumping her body full of fluids, and wiping her little bum when she pooped on herself. Just when I thought that she was a lost cause, I came out the garage to prepare her medicine and she just...got up and waddled over to me. I knew then that she was going to be okay.

It took months for that leg to heal, (I screamed with joy the day she finally jumped onto something on her own) and the pus leaking went on until the very day she was spayed, but I never got word on what it was. I assume pyometra.

I have no idea where she came from, but I THINK that someone left her in that parking lot in an effort to find her a home. It was a church parking lot and people are known to dump kittens there because children come out and scoop them up on Sunday...and lo and behold, it was Saturday night that I found her. No one ever came looking for her or answered my advertisements about her.
 
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