Baby Kitty

Ciji

Chevy

Thought I'd tell you a little about all three of my cats.

Ciji is my late cat Nichole's half-sister. She is about 14 years old and very shy. She was a very timid cat before Nichole passed away, but became even worse after her death last year. The other two, especially Baby Kitty, pick on her constantly. It has become so bad that Baby Kitty keeps her from eating, scaring her away from her dish and eating Ciji's as well as her own. Ciji began losing weight. So I have started feeding her in my room twice a day - a little in the morning, most of a can at night. Her teeth are getting a little sensitive, so the vet told me to feed her just canned food now. She loves it and seems to be improving every day. She doesn't mind being my "upstairs kitty" and rarely comes downstairs, except to gently remind us that it is time to eat.

Baby Kitty (real name Damienne) is about 7 or 8 years old. I've had her since she was two weeks old. She was so tiny, her eyes were barely open. My nephew David rescued her from some kids who were tossing her around. He couldn't find her mother, so he brought her to me. Here is this 7 year old boy, asking me to "help her live." I couldn't refuse. I meant only to get her to adoptable age, but by the time six weeks had passed, we were hopelessly imprinted on each other. Being a hand-raised cat, she is exceptionally affectionate - always greeting me at the door. She "murrs" - meows and purrs - at me, anxiously waiting for me to sit down so she can jump up and drape herself over my shoulder to "groom" my hair. She will not be denied & will insist I submit to this treatment for several minutes before I can get her off me.

Chevy (real name Chevalier) is about 6 years old. He is a rescue from the City Pound. I was there looking for a lost cat (Maurice - never found) when I spotted him in a cage. He was yowling to me, pawing through the cage, insisting I come over and talk to him. On checking with the desk - I found out he was scheduled for euthanasia that day. So, I adopted him on the spot. He has extra toes and really gorgeous markings. A very affectionate, vocal cat -- he is my clown. Chevy got his nickname Kittyman from my sister. It is based on his habit of throwing his whole body against a closed door to try to pop it open -- kind of like a fireman or super hero breaking down a door to enter a burning building.

Baby Kitty has been going outside lately -- running through an open door out to the parking area in our complex. All my cats are indoor cats, but she just likes to look around. Unfortunately, the parking area has cars that leak various fluids - oil, antifreeze, etc. I'm afraid she will get some on her paws, lick it, and be poisoned. So, I decided to get one of those light dog leashes on a reel so she can be hooked up, but won't realize she's on a leash, since she can walk around about 16 feet. We take her out into the courtyard out front then and she can enjoy grass and watch the birds and squirrels.

At the same time I got the leash, I got collars and tags for everybody. Baby already had one, so it wasn't a big thing for her. But Chevy and Ciji did not and you would have thought I tied a monster around Chevy's neck. He began to run all over the house, actually bucking like a horse. He would stop, back up, shake his head -- all trying to get away from that sound around his neck. My room mate and I were howling in laughter.

One thing Chevy hates more than anything is to be laughed at. With that happening, on top of the collar itself, he ignored both of us for several days. Once he got used to it, my room mate Vicki decided to see if he'd like to go on the leash outside as well. Everything was going ok until suddenly this very tiny squirrel went flying by Chevy and climbed the tree next to him.

Vicki said he just went insane. He flew back up the steps, landing on her chest and refusing to let go. She had to literally carry him back in the house, yowling in terror all the way, and she in absolute stitches with laughter at the vision of a 16+lb cat scared of a 2lb squirrel. He sulked off in indignation, refusing to even acknowledge her for days. He wouldn't even eat anything she put down that night. I had to feed him when I got home before he would eat - and for several days after as well. This cat has a very long memory when he is humiliated.

Oh - one more thing. Besides the fact that I have to feed Ciji separate from the other two, Chevy must be fed separately because he has a history of urinary problems. I have to feed him Friskies Special Diet to prevent him from blocking again. Baby Kitty gets regular food. So - Ciji gets fed upstairs in my room, Chevy gets fed on the main floor in the kitchen, and Baby gets fed in the basement. Three cats - three separate feeding places. I certainly get my exercise at dinner time.

So -- there are my "fur babies" in a nut shell.

Copyright © Sandy Heglund
August 3, 1998