Friends, this week has been one big chunk of interruptions to our normal schedule, and I'm afraid today is no acception. This tortureshell I'm afraid, is another one of those that leaves the human terribly upset. It involves the story and the fate of one of the ones who came before. I met her only briefly, and if I'm honest with you, I didn't like what I saw. What I saw was all claws and teeth and hissing and spiting and thwapping and growling and chasing, mind you, and the human says she does have a softer side. As I'm probably biased, I'm going to let the human tell the rest of the story.
Anna was my first ever pedigree cat, and the first I'd owned totally on my own. I'd had others around, but they were always family cats. I thought long and hard before I bought a Russian, and researched all the breed thoroughly. She looked as though she would meet what I wanted in a cat. Sweet tempered, quiet, content to be an indoor cat, not destructive, intelligent, people oriented, high tolerance for dogs. I searched for a long time before I found the right kitten, and when I did, it was love at first sight. This kitten went from being one who didn't readily cuddle to one who climbed on my knee and began purring on our first meeting. Needless to say, I kept her.
That next year was to bring many changes, however. Anna's whole personality was beautiful for about a month or so, then seemed to change overnight. She refused to be handled, bit and swiped at me when I tried to pick her up or even move her to sit down, and that's not all. She began to poo outside the tray, but for the longest time, she wasn't consistent with where she did it. Can you imagine trying to find poo when you can't see it and you live in a big house? Nightmare is not the word. Sometimes I'd go days before coming across it, and that was less than hygienic. Still, I loved her, so persisted.
Next came the scratching. My carpets suffered. The bath pannel's protective covering was ripped to pieces. The lino in the bathroom was shredded. She scratched the back of the sofa so much that she pulled the staples out. Every time the door was opened, she'd dart out and do her best to escape outside. Still, I couldn't give up. I thought she needed more stimulation. I thought she might be upset. I thought she might be injured... I thought and thought and thought, and for months on end, attempted to help her overcome her problems. As a final resort, and already appreciating the inevitable at this time, I thought maybe she needed company. That's when I took Tia into my home, but from the first sight of her right up until the day she left, Anna showed nothing but hostility towards her.
Things had reached an all-time low. I was living with a cat who was destroying my house, putting me at risk of all sorts of nasties from poo, terrorising other cats, escaping every time I tried to enter or exit my house, and above all, who wouldn't allow me to touch her for any prolonged period. I might have been able to cope with her if I could have seen her, but I couldn't. Essentially, I was getting nothing out of keeping her only misery, huge bills, and the profound heartache of deeply loving a cat who seemed not to care for me in return. She didn't seem happy here (that's what I put her destructive behaviour, inappropriate toileting etc down to), and obviously had a great yearning for the outside which, living in a flat, I couldn't satisfy. Reluctantly, I realised that I needed to find a home who could better provide for Anna.
But this posed a problem. I didn't want her to go to any old home. Despite the problems, she'd lived with me for a year. I loved her deeply. I knew she wouldn't be an easy cat, and I didn't want her being shipped from home to home because they couldn't cope with her. I knew I needed to choose carefully, and decided to keep her for as long as it took to find the right forever home, despite the damage she was doing to my home and heart. I would have kept her till the end of her life if I had to, and would have loved her despite it all.
Her original breeder had offered, or more honestly, demanded, to take her back. however, this was an older lady who was quite frankly struggling to look after the million or so cats she had both physically and financially, and I didn't want Anna to go back to that. She said that she would actively seek a home for her, but that she wouldn't tell me where my cat ended up. Again, this wasn't acceptable for me. I wanted, no needed, to know who she ended up living with.
A few weeks later, I had two phone calls, one from a family who were interested, but a little worried about her problems, and one from another Russian breeder who just happened to be a friend of the original one. Although I was suspicious of intent, I decided to interview the latter. She bred Russians, so would be more equipped to cope with inappropriate toileting, cat aggression, damage to propperty etc. Anna loved to go outside, and the breeder had a large secure area where she could go and be safe. This woman is so professional that she even has a boarding cattery. She seemed perfect, but with that one little hitch of being friends with the original lady.
To cut a long story short, she came to the house, looked at Anna, and seemed very genuine. After a very, very long chat with her, I decided that Anna would be quite happy with her, but made the breeder promise that she was not taking anna for the express purpose of rehoming her at a later date, as breeder a had said she would. She promised she wouldn't, said she loved Russians so much that a neuter who wasn't contributing to the breeding programme would be considered as a person to be treasured rather than an inconvenience, and assured me that she thought Anna would end up being good company for her other cats. I reaffirmed this quite a few times, but in the end, was satisfied.
I missed Anna dreadfully when she left. The poor breeder got an email begging for a new update about every second for that first week, and at least twice a day for a good few weeks after. I was struggling to let go. Eventually though, over months, my concern grew less. Anna was happy. I could start letting go and healing the hurt left behind in her absence. On a lighter note, I could also start healing my damaged carpets, lino and sofa. This I began to do.
Today, I received an email in my inbox from a mutual friend telling me that Anna had been rehomed at the beginning of January. She lives with a couple now, and her little brother and a puppy. This hit me with the equivalent force of a punch in the stomach by a championship boxer. I was devastated. Now I didn't know where my cat was, what kind of people she was with, or how to get in contact. The cat is only 21 months old, well, almost 22, and she's already had four homes in her short life. It was to avoid this exact thing happening that I agreed to keep her until I found a permanent home. The breeder had promised me she would keep her, and yet, she'd gone back on her word. I don't know why. I don't know a lot, but what I do know, I wish I didn't. I was told casually that the new owners use a radio controlled wire fence and a collar on the cats and dog which makes sure that they stay within the boundary when outside. My research tells me that those collars enforce the boundary conditioning by means of an electric shock as aversion to crossing the line. If any of you know of collars which condition in a different way, please tell me, as the thought of her being shocked, even if only mildly, has me so upset and heart broken that I feel physically sick with the misery of it.,/p>
p>I have sent the breeder an email demanding an explannation of why she went back on her word, and why I had to find out about it through a mutual friend rather than hearing it from her direct. I trusted her. I have no legal standing as far as I'm aware to demand the return of Anna, and as I don't even know who has her, I have no way of tracing her to find out if she's happy or not. This has taught me something though. It has taught me never to take anyone on face value, no matter how genuine and nice seeming they are. Never trust word alone. Ensure that it is written, signed and verified, and then when something like this happens, there is some recourse.
Through my tears this afternoon, anger has boiled, and done so fiercely. I have used it as my drive to create what I see as an absolutely water-tight contract which will now be signed by the purchaser before any kittens go off to their forever homes. If people are genuine, they shouldn't mind doing this, as it states in brief that the kitten is a pet, is not to be bred from, is to be fed propperly and given all vet care as needed. If conditions fail to be met, the breder, i.e, me, can repossess the cat at any time. This means that I can be certain my kittens are going to be looked after. I've also put a condition in there that says that a cat of my breeding can never be rehomed without my prior knowledge and consent, and that in such circumstances, I can also take the cat back if no agreement as to a suitable new home can be made. I'm damned if I'm going to let a repeat of Anna's sorry case happen to me again.
A word to the wise. Always write it down. If you make an agreement of any kind, commit it to paper. For any novice breeders, don't sell a kitten until you have a good contract. I'm happy to provide mine if anyone wants to see it. If anyone wants the name of the Russian Blue breeder in the UK whose word is not to be trusted, I'm also happy to provide that.
Now I can only hope that my Anna is happy wherever she is, that the breeder is decent enough to at least put me in contact with the new owners (not holding my breath on that one), and that a radio controlled wire fence and collar doesn't mean electric shocks. My Anna, for all your trouble, I miss you like crazy. Be well, sweet, crazy, naughty, infuriating, once cuddly little lady. You'll always have a very special place in my heart.
Tuesday, 1 February 2011
Monday, 31 January 2011
Mr Softee Needs Your Help!
Friends, I don't normally feature rescue cats on my blog for a few reasons. Firstly, there are so many of my poor counterparts just waiting for peoples like my human to come along that, if i was to feature them all, that's all the blog would be about. Secondly, it makes the human upset when we write about them, cuz she feels so bad that they're still waiting for a forever home, and she wants to go and get them and take them all in. Thirdly, it makes me feel more than a little guilty for complaining the way I do about the shoddy service in this place, the lack of a constant supply of tuna and stinky goodness, and the fact that the human gets annoyed when I play ping pong with my gajillion and sixteen ping pong balls in the middle of the night. I don't do feelings of guilt very well... I'm a cat, after all.
Every now and then though, a story comes along that I just have to do something about, and this is one of those times. I'd appreciate it if you other readers could either post something about it, or tell friends that you might have in the UK. We found a home for Sparkles, let's do it for Mr Softee!
So, who is he and what is he like? Well, he's a 13-year-young brown spotted Bengal boy, a pure breed as far as me and the human know. He was rescued about six months ago, but sadly, nothing is known about his history. We don't know if he was an indoor or outdoor kind of boy, but the ladypeople who is fostering him would like him to be an indoor only cat. We don't know how well he gets along with other cats. The fosterer would like him to go to a single cat home, but I wonder. If he's a softee, then he may well get along with others. The problem is, nobody can say he does because we just don't know. Now to the most important part; personality. This boy was not called Mr Softee when he was rescued, but the foster ladypeople gave him that name. Why? Because that's exactly what he is. He loves peoples, and he loves with only the strength that a cat can muster! That means he loves biiiiiig!
This boy has no health problems that we've been told about. Bengals are a lovely breed of cat who promise hours of fun to the ones they own. Mr Softee is just waiting to interview his next trainee slaves. Will you be one of them? He's been in rescue for six months now. Apparently nobody wants him because of his age. A lot of peoples say that a cat ages seven years for every one human one. Can you imagine being uprooted from the only home you've ever known at an age of 91? All you want to do is get comfy, stay warm and have a cuddle, yet nobody will offer to be your forever cuddle buddy because you're too old. It's horrible. No wonder Mr Softee is searching for his forever person. Please give him a chance. Older cats can live healthily for years. Why not find out of friend Softee is one of them?
If you think you can offer a home to this lovely boy, please either leave a comment or send my human an email. He is in Woking, Surrey.
Every now and then though, a story comes along that I just have to do something about, and this is one of those times. I'd appreciate it if you other readers could either post something about it, or tell friends that you might have in the UK. We found a home for Sparkles, let's do it for Mr Softee!
So, who is he and what is he like? Well, he's a 13-year-young brown spotted Bengal boy, a pure breed as far as me and the human know. He was rescued about six months ago, but sadly, nothing is known about his history. We don't know if he was an indoor or outdoor kind of boy, but the ladypeople who is fostering him would like him to be an indoor only cat. We don't know how well he gets along with other cats. The fosterer would like him to go to a single cat home, but I wonder. If he's a softee, then he may well get along with others. The problem is, nobody can say he does because we just don't know. Now to the most important part; personality. This boy was not called Mr Softee when he was rescued, but the foster ladypeople gave him that name. Why? Because that's exactly what he is. He loves peoples, and he loves with only the strength that a cat can muster! That means he loves biiiiiig!
This boy has no health problems that we've been told about. Bengals are a lovely breed of cat who promise hours of fun to the ones they own. Mr Softee is just waiting to interview his next trainee slaves. Will you be one of them? He's been in rescue for six months now. Apparently nobody wants him because of his age. A lot of peoples say that a cat ages seven years for every one human one. Can you imagine being uprooted from the only home you've ever known at an age of 91? All you want to do is get comfy, stay warm and have a cuddle, yet nobody will offer to be your forever cuddle buddy because you're too old. It's horrible. No wonder Mr Softee is searching for his forever person. Please give him a chance. Older cats can live healthily for years. Why not find out of friend Softee is one of them?
If you think you can offer a home to this lovely boy, please either leave a comment or send my human an email. He is in Woking, Surrey.
Not-So-Sage Sunday: Why Do We Stop?
Hello again to one and all. The first thing I want to do is apologize for the lateness of this posting; Gregg has been out all day, and came back smelling of both cats and dogs, so he's only just now available to act as my secretary. I'm going to let him say a few words himself later on, too, and I promise you that this post will be a good piece shorter than my last.
Fair warning to one and all: what follows is definitely sombre in character, so if discussion of being old and the ending of life bothers you overmuch, I apologize in advance. Next week's entry will be far less depressing, I promise!
I'm a fairly old cat...Gregg says I'm eleven, as I may or may not have said. I mostly have good days, but sometimes I'm a little slow to wake or a little hesitant to jump. It sometimes occurs to me that as days pass, I'll get slower and slower, and one day I'll just...stop. I don't quite know what to make of this, since I've never actually been present when something else stops that way...but it's a little unsettling. I've heard of other animals who have stopped for one reason or other, and get the idea that you don't have to slow down until you simply run dry...you can sometimes stop outright, and that's a little more scary. I hope I don't do that anytime soon.
I post today, and on this subject, because I want to understand a little more of what it's all about. Why does it happen? Why can't people and cats and dogs and birds just keep going? Why do we have to even get old? I would've loved to stay a kitten forever, even if getting older means I know things I didn't back then. Better still, if there is no answer to these questions, why does it make us so upset? Why aren't we able to just be happy with what we have and live as long as we can before stopping? I've seen many humans, Gregg among them, who have gotten extremely upset because a person or animal they knew stopped this way. I guess it means that they don't have their friend or mate or companion around anymore, which is sad, but sometimes that sadness confuses me, and it makes me sad too. It's just not something I can fully wrap my head around, and if anyone else has any more information, I'd be glad to hear it.
I said that I never actually saw anyone or anything stop, but that's not quite true. I was in a house where a human stopped, even though I think I was probably asleep at the time. I only found out afterword, and this brings me to Gregg's contribution.
The reason I was out today is that it was my brother's 25th birthday. It was my brother to whom Kara makes reference, an incident that occurred in 2005 when Gary was only nineteen. Our family tries to make a point of getting together and having a little fun on Gary's birthday, even if it only means going to one another's house for a little while or having dinner at a restaurant someplace. It's simple, it's unassuming, it's informal and it's usually full of laughs. Today was spent at my aunt's house, where I ate a lot of food, watched a few movies and mostly just spent the day in my family's assorted company. Not many were there, but I was glad of those who were. That's why I didn't post this morning...I was awakened and told to be ready to be picked up in twenty minutes, which left me precious little time to post on the blog. Today is both a happy and a contemplatively sad day for me, and Kara's musings and questions probably reflect it quite clearly. I'll turn it over to kara to finish.
Gregg may have had fun, but he still came back smelling of other cats that weren't me. Was he petting them and not me? Why didn't he take me with him? Why did he leave me alone? It can make a lady a little jealous, I tell ya. That's all right...he'll probably love the present I left on his kitchen floor. And whether he loves it or not, I'll definitely make myself more than just available for copious quantities of cuddles tonight.
Fair warning to one and all: what follows is definitely sombre in character, so if discussion of being old and the ending of life bothers you overmuch, I apologize in advance. Next week's entry will be far less depressing, I promise!
I'm a fairly old cat...Gregg says I'm eleven, as I may or may not have said. I mostly have good days, but sometimes I'm a little slow to wake or a little hesitant to jump. It sometimes occurs to me that as days pass, I'll get slower and slower, and one day I'll just...stop. I don't quite know what to make of this, since I've never actually been present when something else stops that way...but it's a little unsettling. I've heard of other animals who have stopped for one reason or other, and get the idea that you don't have to slow down until you simply run dry...you can sometimes stop outright, and that's a little more scary. I hope I don't do that anytime soon.
I post today, and on this subject, because I want to understand a little more of what it's all about. Why does it happen? Why can't people and cats and dogs and birds just keep going? Why do we have to even get old? I would've loved to stay a kitten forever, even if getting older means I know things I didn't back then. Better still, if there is no answer to these questions, why does it make us so upset? Why aren't we able to just be happy with what we have and live as long as we can before stopping? I've seen many humans, Gregg among them, who have gotten extremely upset because a person or animal they knew stopped this way. I guess it means that they don't have their friend or mate or companion around anymore, which is sad, but sometimes that sadness confuses me, and it makes me sad too. It's just not something I can fully wrap my head around, and if anyone else has any more information, I'd be glad to hear it.
I said that I never actually saw anyone or anything stop, but that's not quite true. I was in a house where a human stopped, even though I think I was probably asleep at the time. I only found out afterword, and this brings me to Gregg's contribution.
The reason I was out today is that it was my brother's 25th birthday. It was my brother to whom Kara makes reference, an incident that occurred in 2005 when Gary was only nineteen. Our family tries to make a point of getting together and having a little fun on Gary's birthday, even if it only means going to one another's house for a little while or having dinner at a restaurant someplace. It's simple, it's unassuming, it's informal and it's usually full of laughs. Today was spent at my aunt's house, where I ate a lot of food, watched a few movies and mostly just spent the day in my family's assorted company. Not many were there, but I was glad of those who were. That's why I didn't post this morning...I was awakened and told to be ready to be picked up in twenty minutes, which left me precious little time to post on the blog. Today is both a happy and a contemplatively sad day for me, and Kara's musings and questions probably reflect it quite clearly. I'll turn it over to kara to finish.
Gregg may have had fun, but he still came back smelling of other cats that weren't me. Was he petting them and not me? Why didn't he take me with him? Why did he leave me alone? It can make a lady a little jealous, I tell ya. That's all right...he'll probably love the present I left on his kitchen floor. And whether he loves it or not, I'll definitely make myself more than just available for copious quantities of cuddles tonight.
Saturday, 29 January 2011
Pens and Birdies
Ok, I think my silence has lasted long enough. I didn't write for a few days cuz I wanted to ensure that the poor baby sphynx kitten had as much coverage as possible, and I didn't want to detract from it, but after events this morning, I just had to write. You see, I've got a bit of a problem. I've also got some exciting news, so let's start with that first.
The good news is about pens; not the type peoples use to write with, but the kittening type. The human, of course, has one of these already, but it's not very big and it doesn't have the right kind of opening in the top. It's about three and a half feet long by two and a half wide, and that simply isn't enough room for a mummycat and her growing kittens, if you ask me. It'll be enough when they're tiny and aren't doing much other than cuddling me, but when they start wanting to play, it's gonna be a nightmare.
This pen that we have is designed so that the top comes apart in two halves. You can leave these both closed, both open, or fold one of them back. It's important for a mummycat to have an escape from the kittens. As lovely as they are, we do need time away from them too. But that poses a problem. With the current design, the kittens could potentially follow me out onto the carpet by crawling and climbing up the side of the wire and then falling over the top. If I leave the pen, it's cuz I want a breather from the kittens, and if they follow me, it only means more work for me picking them up and dropping them back inside. Ideally, a kittening pen has a small door in the middle of the top so that I, with my super strong mummycat legs, can jump up and out but the kittens are stuck even if they do manage to climb the wire.
My human was looking at pens on the internet, but they're so, sooooo expensive. The cheapest good one is £400! I just couldn't afford to let her pay that. She doesn't have the moneys, and even if she did, it would mean less foods for me. That wasn't an option. She put an ad up at her work hunt place, asking if anyone could make her up one for super cheap. She got replies back from two peoples who said they could help. One came this morning to look at the current pen, and he even scratched my chin! He smelled strange though, of chicken, but not dead, ready to eat chicken. They had still been alive. He keeps them for their eggs, he says. I wonder if he'd give me one for a pet? At least it'd be fresh meat!
Anyway, my human gave him the spec of what she wanted, and he says he'll go away and cost it up for her. She has the second people coming to look tomorrow. Unless it's very cheap, she won't be buying any pens, thanks to my humungus vet bills that she's still battling with, but if it's manageable, she says she really needs to get it. When we move to Oxford, things will be a whole lot more expensive, you see. They think they're posh up there, and charge accordingly, and as she's taking a pay cut in this new job, it'll be even more difficult. So we'll just have to wait and see the figures that they come back with.
Now to my naughty little problem. Friends, this is another one of those shame moments, I'm afraid. Let me tell you the story from the beginning.
Today was hoover day. The human usually does this on the weekends cuz she has more time to do it all. When I first started owning her, I was so scared of the roary hoover that I used to run and hide every time it came out. Now though, I just walk off out of its way until it's done eating the dirt off the carpet. Because it hoovered up Dogface hair for such a long time, it still stinks of Dogface when it's used, so the human likes to open all the windows and doors for a few minutes to air the place out. In our living room, we have two big French doors which open onto a pretend balcony. I say it's pretend cuz it's basically just a set of pretty railings in front of the doors to stop you walking off the edge. There's nowhere to stand out there or anything.
Anyway, when she opens these doors, I like to go and have a peep outside. She has a screen up so that I can't fall through the railings or escape, but she needn't worry. When I first came here, there was no screen, and even though she was careful, I never went anywhere near those doors. This morning I went for my usual look outside, but, as the human was right by them, I felt brave and actually stayed for a little bit. I was being careful though. I'd take a quick, sneaky look outside, then turn my head round quick as a flash so that all I could see was the living room. I always had the human there so that I could rub my face for reassurance, but every time I looked away, I had the horrible fear that she'd leave me. The breeze in my fur made me keep looking back though. It smelled so, well, interesting.
It was on one of those fertive glances that I spotted it. A bird! A big flappy thing in the sky that made lots of noise! Friends, a war started in me. on the one hand, it was fascinating, so much so in fact that I could hardly take my eyes off it. But on the other, it was a bird and it was flying and the only thing between me and it was this flimsy little screen. I tried to make a dash for it, but my human wasn't having any of it. She knows I take pleasure in sniffing the outside air, and she knows I like to watch the birdies when the doors are safely shut. But it's different then. I can't smell them. I can't really hear them. And there's glass between us. It's safe. It's familiar.
The human scooped me up, plonked me back on the sill in front of the open door, and talked and scritched me like nothing at all had happened. I was a bit confused. Why was she not showing fear? I always associate strokings with good things. Could the birdie be a good thing? I teatered, half poised for flight, half absorbed in what her hands were doing to my chin and yummy tummy. It felt so good, but the risk! And the birdies were so interesting. I had to keep looking back at them, cuz there was now more than one.
the next time I moved, I just stepped off the sill and crept behind the human for a bit, but she coaxed me out with wiggling fingers. Again, I couldn't resist. I know they mean more rubbing, and I really like that. Very, very slowly, I came out. My eyes flicked between the human and the birdies, but I just couldn't help it. She made me follow those fingers back to the sill.
She sat with me a long time there, but I was still a bit nervous. Then she got the idea of picking me up. She held me close to her, stood on the sill and gave me some loving, just as she does when the door is closed. Now I could watch the birdies and only occasionally have to look at her. She couldn't sneak off when she was holding me, after all. I snuggled down for a good watch. I was still feeling uneasy, but they were interesting to look at, and the human was right there for all the comfort I needed. A win win situation, if you ask me!
After a time, the human put me down again on the sill and moved away a bit, but that was too much for me to handle. I cried and cried and begged her to come back to the door with me, but she said that I needed to be brave now and do it on my own. She knew I could do it. She was going to do more hoovering, but I miaowed so pitifully that she relented. "All right, " she said in people talk noise, "I'll sit on the sofa so that you can still see me and watch them. But only for ten minutes!" As soon as she sat down, I ran to her, climbed up on her knee, but then moved right to the end of it and crouched. From here, I could still see the birdies you see.
And that's how we stayed until it was time to have the door closed again. as soon as it was, I was happy to go and sit by the door and watch. But that's my problem, friends. I don't know what to make of birdies when the door is open. I feel a bit ashamed because I'm a cat. Birdies shouldn't scare us. But they're just so unfamiliar. The human doesn't think I ever got to see them from an open window in my old home. It's unsettling now when I'm faced with it. Although I'm an outgoing kind of cat, I've attached deeply enough with this human that I like her to be there when I experience a new situation, and there's another problem. I shouldn't be dependent on such a feeble-minded thing as her. It's not healthy. And yet, I know that she offers safety, warmth, and a love that understands when I'm frightened and supports me through it. I don't know what to do about this. I want to be used to birdies, but without the human around, I don't know how to make myself face them. I want to be less dependent on the human, but again, I don't know how to be. It really does pain me to admit it. I used to chide mummycat for being ascared of everything. She did take it to huge levels, mind you, cuz you could only be scared of my human for about five seconds. That's all the time it takes to realise that she only wants to love you instead of hurting you, but Mummycat could never even master that side of her fear totally. Peoples were always an unknown. She never completely trusted them, even the ones who were nothing but nice to her. I can understand a little better now how hard it is to face a fear.
The human is going to use the old kittening pen to put me in the garden in the summer, to let me have some outside time but without the risk of me getting lost, so I'll need to learn that birdies aren't scary before I do go out. It's such a worry. I mean, whoever heard of a ladycat ascared of birds! It's ridiculous!
So, there you have it. I don't mind sharing my dirty little secrets with you all, cuz friends are sposed to understand your weaknesses too, right? At least, I hope they are!
The good news is about pens; not the type peoples use to write with, but the kittening type. The human, of course, has one of these already, but it's not very big and it doesn't have the right kind of opening in the top. It's about three and a half feet long by two and a half wide, and that simply isn't enough room for a mummycat and her growing kittens, if you ask me. It'll be enough when they're tiny and aren't doing much other than cuddling me, but when they start wanting to play, it's gonna be a nightmare.
This pen that we have is designed so that the top comes apart in two halves. You can leave these both closed, both open, or fold one of them back. It's important for a mummycat to have an escape from the kittens. As lovely as they are, we do need time away from them too. But that poses a problem. With the current design, the kittens could potentially follow me out onto the carpet by crawling and climbing up the side of the wire and then falling over the top. If I leave the pen, it's cuz I want a breather from the kittens, and if they follow me, it only means more work for me picking them up and dropping them back inside. Ideally, a kittening pen has a small door in the middle of the top so that I, with my super strong mummycat legs, can jump up and out but the kittens are stuck even if they do manage to climb the wire.
My human was looking at pens on the internet, but they're so, sooooo expensive. The cheapest good one is £400! I just couldn't afford to let her pay that. She doesn't have the moneys, and even if she did, it would mean less foods for me. That wasn't an option. She put an ad up at her work hunt place, asking if anyone could make her up one for super cheap. She got replies back from two peoples who said they could help. One came this morning to look at the current pen, and he even scratched my chin! He smelled strange though, of chicken, but not dead, ready to eat chicken. They had still been alive. He keeps them for their eggs, he says. I wonder if he'd give me one for a pet? At least it'd be fresh meat!
Anyway, my human gave him the spec of what she wanted, and he says he'll go away and cost it up for her. She has the second people coming to look tomorrow. Unless it's very cheap, she won't be buying any pens, thanks to my humungus vet bills that she's still battling with, but if it's manageable, she says she really needs to get it. When we move to Oxford, things will be a whole lot more expensive, you see. They think they're posh up there, and charge accordingly, and as she's taking a pay cut in this new job, it'll be even more difficult. So we'll just have to wait and see the figures that they come back with.
Now to my naughty little problem. Friends, this is another one of those shame moments, I'm afraid. Let me tell you the story from the beginning.
Today was hoover day. The human usually does this on the weekends cuz she has more time to do it all. When I first started owning her, I was so scared of the roary hoover that I used to run and hide every time it came out. Now though, I just walk off out of its way until it's done eating the dirt off the carpet. Because it hoovered up Dogface hair for such a long time, it still stinks of Dogface when it's used, so the human likes to open all the windows and doors for a few minutes to air the place out. In our living room, we have two big French doors which open onto a pretend balcony. I say it's pretend cuz it's basically just a set of pretty railings in front of the doors to stop you walking off the edge. There's nowhere to stand out there or anything.
Anyway, when she opens these doors, I like to go and have a peep outside. She has a screen up so that I can't fall through the railings or escape, but she needn't worry. When I first came here, there was no screen, and even though she was careful, I never went anywhere near those doors. This morning I went for my usual look outside, but, as the human was right by them, I felt brave and actually stayed for a little bit. I was being careful though. I'd take a quick, sneaky look outside, then turn my head round quick as a flash so that all I could see was the living room. I always had the human there so that I could rub my face for reassurance, but every time I looked away, I had the horrible fear that she'd leave me. The breeze in my fur made me keep looking back though. It smelled so, well, interesting.
It was on one of those fertive glances that I spotted it. A bird! A big flappy thing in the sky that made lots of noise! Friends, a war started in me. on the one hand, it was fascinating, so much so in fact that I could hardly take my eyes off it. But on the other, it was a bird and it was flying and the only thing between me and it was this flimsy little screen. I tried to make a dash for it, but my human wasn't having any of it. She knows I take pleasure in sniffing the outside air, and she knows I like to watch the birdies when the doors are safely shut. But it's different then. I can't smell them. I can't really hear them. And there's glass between us. It's safe. It's familiar.
The human scooped me up, plonked me back on the sill in front of the open door, and talked and scritched me like nothing at all had happened. I was a bit confused. Why was she not showing fear? I always associate strokings with good things. Could the birdie be a good thing? I teatered, half poised for flight, half absorbed in what her hands were doing to my chin and yummy tummy. It felt so good, but the risk! And the birdies were so interesting. I had to keep looking back at them, cuz there was now more than one.
the next time I moved, I just stepped off the sill and crept behind the human for a bit, but she coaxed me out with wiggling fingers. Again, I couldn't resist. I know they mean more rubbing, and I really like that. Very, very slowly, I came out. My eyes flicked between the human and the birdies, but I just couldn't help it. She made me follow those fingers back to the sill.
She sat with me a long time there, but I was still a bit nervous. Then she got the idea of picking me up. She held me close to her, stood on the sill and gave me some loving, just as she does when the door is closed. Now I could watch the birdies and only occasionally have to look at her. She couldn't sneak off when she was holding me, after all. I snuggled down for a good watch. I was still feeling uneasy, but they were interesting to look at, and the human was right there for all the comfort I needed. A win win situation, if you ask me!
After a time, the human put me down again on the sill and moved away a bit, but that was too much for me to handle. I cried and cried and begged her to come back to the door with me, but she said that I needed to be brave now and do it on my own. She knew I could do it. She was going to do more hoovering, but I miaowed so pitifully that she relented. "All right, " she said in people talk noise, "I'll sit on the sofa so that you can still see me and watch them. But only for ten minutes!" As soon as she sat down, I ran to her, climbed up on her knee, but then moved right to the end of it and crouched. From here, I could still see the birdies you see.
And that's how we stayed until it was time to have the door closed again. as soon as it was, I was happy to go and sit by the door and watch. But that's my problem, friends. I don't know what to make of birdies when the door is open. I feel a bit ashamed because I'm a cat. Birdies shouldn't scare us. But they're just so unfamiliar. The human doesn't think I ever got to see them from an open window in my old home. It's unsettling now when I'm faced with it. Although I'm an outgoing kind of cat, I've attached deeply enough with this human that I like her to be there when I experience a new situation, and there's another problem. I shouldn't be dependent on such a feeble-minded thing as her. It's not healthy. And yet, I know that she offers safety, warmth, and a love that understands when I'm frightened and supports me through it. I don't know what to do about this. I want to be used to birdies, but without the human around, I don't know how to make myself face them. I want to be less dependent on the human, but again, I don't know how to be. It really does pain me to admit it. I used to chide mummycat for being ascared of everything. She did take it to huge levels, mind you, cuz you could only be scared of my human for about five seconds. That's all the time it takes to realise that she only wants to love you instead of hurting you, but Mummycat could never even master that side of her fear totally. Peoples were always an unknown. She never completely trusted them, even the ones who were nothing but nice to her. I can understand a little better now how hard it is to face a fear.
The human is going to use the old kittening pen to put me in the garden in the summer, to let me have some outside time but without the risk of me getting lost, so I'll need to learn that birdies aren't scary before I do go out. It's such a worry. I mean, whoever heard of a ladycat ascared of birds! It's ridiculous!
So, there you have it. I don't mind sharing my dirty little secrets with you all, cuz friends are sposed to understand your weaknesses too, right? At least, I hope they are!
Wednesday, 26 January 2011
Clarification
This is going to be a very short post just to clear up a few of the comments left in response to yesterday's post and to give some more information. I will allow the human to write the rest of this, as she's the one with all the details. Just means I'll have to smack her down later if she gets any high handed ideas about writing on here a second time!
Human: Ok, to start off with, let me tell you that I'm on a number of forums and groups, and one of those just happened to have a lady in it who knew the breeder of the sphynx personally. From conversations that went on, plus reading of the original thread, here's my informed information/opinion.
The kitten was 16 weeks at the time of travel, not 11 weeks as stated in the original story-writer's words. She was shipped in a climate controlled part of the aircraft, and apparently, this cost even more than it would have done for the owner to get a seat herself on that flight. I don't know why she didn't go herself, but I can make an educated guess. The woman refers to young children in her post, so I suspect it was too difficult for her to get them cared for while she went to collect the kitten. From the level of upset she's experiencing, I doubt this was a decision made on selfishness.
One reader asks if she'd checked breeders closer to home. As I'm sure you folks are aware, distances in the US are immense, and many breeders ship their kittens to their new homes as it's often the only way to get them there. Driving sometimes simply isn't an option. Perhaps there were no breeders closer to this lady's home. Perhaps she wanted a sphynx and no rescues had them. I simply don't know. Perhaps she didn't want a rescue cat because she'd be unsure of its start in life and the issues it would bring with it to the home. none of us were there, so we don't know.
What we do know is this. The kitten was in climate control, and, if she'd been dealt with as she should have been by Delta, temperature would not have been an issue, as she wouldn't have been exposed to it for very long. Airlines have rules about temps animals can travel in, and if they took the kitten on the plane, those rules were obviously satisfied. If it was too cold, again, Delta is to blame for agreeing to fly the kitten. It's the airline. It should know, through experience, the bottom temps an animal can deal with while being flown, and yet, it still accepted the kitten.
The breeder packed the baby up well. She had fleecey blankets, a snugglesack, a heat pad, and even was wearing a little sweater for extra warmth. There's nothing else she could have done to keep her any warmer.
The owner showed up on time to ensure that the kitten would not be forced to wait in the cold, but despite numerous plees that the kitten needed to be brought in from the cold, despite Delta staff being made fully aware of a kitten being on board, they continued to offload normal luggage instead of her carrier. Again, this was Delta's fault, not the breeder's, and certainly not the owner's.
This breeder is not a novice. She has been doing this for a long time and knows what she's doing. If folks do their research, they will see that Delta is responsible for many, many pet deaths every year. Even our own ML had her labrador lost for hours on end by Delta. Luckily, that story had a happy ending, but it is still food for thought.
The story is a tragic one with no easy answers. On the bright side, apparently Delta have already been forced to speak to the press about this particular case, so let's hope they keep the pressure on!
Human: Ok, to start off with, let me tell you that I'm on a number of forums and groups, and one of those just happened to have a lady in it who knew the breeder of the sphynx personally. From conversations that went on, plus reading of the original thread, here's my informed information/opinion.
The kitten was 16 weeks at the time of travel, not 11 weeks as stated in the original story-writer's words. She was shipped in a climate controlled part of the aircraft, and apparently, this cost even more than it would have done for the owner to get a seat herself on that flight. I don't know why she didn't go herself, but I can make an educated guess. The woman refers to young children in her post, so I suspect it was too difficult for her to get them cared for while she went to collect the kitten. From the level of upset she's experiencing, I doubt this was a decision made on selfishness.
One reader asks if she'd checked breeders closer to home. As I'm sure you folks are aware, distances in the US are immense, and many breeders ship their kittens to their new homes as it's often the only way to get them there. Driving sometimes simply isn't an option. Perhaps there were no breeders closer to this lady's home. Perhaps she wanted a sphynx and no rescues had them. I simply don't know. Perhaps she didn't want a rescue cat because she'd be unsure of its start in life and the issues it would bring with it to the home. none of us were there, so we don't know.
What we do know is this. The kitten was in climate control, and, if she'd been dealt with as she should have been by Delta, temperature would not have been an issue, as she wouldn't have been exposed to it for very long. Airlines have rules about temps animals can travel in, and if they took the kitten on the plane, those rules were obviously satisfied. If it was too cold, again, Delta is to blame for agreeing to fly the kitten. It's the airline. It should know, through experience, the bottom temps an animal can deal with while being flown, and yet, it still accepted the kitten.
The breeder packed the baby up well. She had fleecey blankets, a snugglesack, a heat pad, and even was wearing a little sweater for extra warmth. There's nothing else she could have done to keep her any warmer.
The owner showed up on time to ensure that the kitten would not be forced to wait in the cold, but despite numerous plees that the kitten needed to be brought in from the cold, despite Delta staff being made fully aware of a kitten being on board, they continued to offload normal luggage instead of her carrier. Again, this was Delta's fault, not the breeder's, and certainly not the owner's.
This breeder is not a novice. She has been doing this for a long time and knows what she's doing. If folks do their research, they will see that Delta is responsible for many, many pet deaths every year. Even our own ML had her labrador lost for hours on end by Delta. Luckily, that story had a happy ending, but it is still food for thought.
The story is a tragic one with no easy answers. On the bright side, apparently Delta have already been forced to speak to the press about this particular case, so let's hope they keep the pressure on!
Tuesday, 25 January 2011
Kitten Dies Needlessly
We interrupt normal proceedings of the Tortureshell variety to bring you some very important and very upsetting news that we found yesterday. We feel that it is important and needs to be spread as wiedly as possible. We'd appreciate it if you made mention on your blogs too. The more publicity this gets, the more chance there is of something being done about it.
Warning, the story below is very upsetting. Please be aware of this before you read further.
This is the tale as written by the people of a kitten who was needlessly killed by neglegence from Delta Airlines. If you want to see a picture of her, I believe Pedda's Blog
has one of her at nine weeks old.
Hi Everyone, Last night our family experienced the worst tragedy I have ever personally experienced & I wanted to post this hoping to reach as many Sphynx cat owners & breeders as I possibly can.
We purchased an 11 week old Sphynx kitten from a breeder & her flight was scheduled to come in last night at 8:40PM on Delta Flight # 738 into BDL (Hartford). (Climate controlled cargo by Delta Dash)
We arrived at the airport at 8:15pm, camera & 2 kids in hand to pick up our long awaited new arrival. We immediately went to baggage claim where we would pick her up from her long flight from Utah.
When we arrived, we were told to go sit by the conveyors for luggage & that as soon as the plane was unloaded, they would bring our new family member out to us. We waited & waited & at 8:50 I went to the baggage claim & asked for an update. I told the woman that the kitten was a Sphynx & had no hair & that I was beginning to worry since it was only 7 degrees outside. I was told the flight had arrived on time (8:40pm), but to sit back down, that the cargo hold latch was stuck, but they were doing all they could & would bring her out as soon as they could.
I wasn't incredibly alarmed, After all, I paid $290 for her to be in a climate controlled cargo area. I figured she would be fine as long as she wasn't outdoors. At 9:30pm, they brought the carrier out to me & the woman who handed the carrier to me told me I should take her out & that the carrier was very cold. She removed the zip ties & I took the carrier to the floor & opened the door.
The kitten was ICE cold, limp, and unresponsive. I IMMEDIATELY put her into my coat, grabbed my kids by the hands & ran out of the airport to get her into my car & cranked up the heat putting all vents on her as I rubbed her trying to warm her up.
She couldn't lift or control any limbs, her breathing was labored, she had a blank stare in her eyes, and she let out a meow. As if to say help me -- please.
We rushed her to the emergency vet clinic, but to my utter devastation, on the drive, she let out a blood curdling cry & went completely limp as we frantically drove to the vet.
When we arrived, I literally ran in, and gave her to the nurse who whisked her into the back. After 10 minutes, a vet came out & told me that she that she was "DOA" and that there was nothing they could have done to save her. There was nothing I could have done to save her either.
The vet then explained to me that once a plane lands, the cargo compartment depressurizes & there is no longer climate control. She told me that she didn't stand a chance in this freezing weather sitting in the Delta Cargo hold for almost 50 minutes.
I spent the rest of the night last night crying & more or less having a nervous breakdown. She died cold, lonely & scared. Her last hour of life was spent frozen & unable to escape. I am so utterly devastated -- I cannot express to anyone how this feels. I am so sad for her, her little 11 week life lost for no reason. A tragedy that could have been prevented if the airline had valued her little promising life.
Delta didn't have much to say to me last night & I am waiting for the president of cargo to call me today, the bottom line is that they can't bring her back to me or my family, there is nothing they can say or do to make this whole. We don't want a new kitten, we fell in love with HER. She was our new child & there is nothing that can be done to bring her home to us. Snickers lost her life unnecessarily.
I just hope that by reading this, I can save someone else the devastation. If you are buying a kitten & live in a cold climate -- PLEASE RETHINK SHIPMENT WHEN IT IS BELOW 30 degrees. If you are a breeder -- PLEASE RETHINK SHIPMENT if you are shipping to an area below 30 degrees. You can put a kitten in a climate controlled cargo, but if it depressurizes -- IT IS NO LONGER CLIMATE CONTROLLED.
Please please please don't let another kitten die, be patient, let it warm up a bit. As we all know, these hairless creatures are the most loving wonderful animals, but they just don't stand a chance against a cargo area that is utterly freezing with employees who are more concerned with getting luggage to their respective owners. Value life everyone, I have just experienced something I pray no one here has too. Don't let Snickers lost life be in vain, I pray you guys read this & maybe another kittens life won't be lost to the cold & lonely Delta Cargo holds.
If you want to read the original thread that the story was posted on, please click Here
In response to reading this, the human and I thought that we should put together our thoughts on safe travel with a pet in an airline. From the start we'll admit that the human's never put a cat on a plane before, and I can't tell you what it's like cuz I've never travelled that way either. But common sense and a lot of reading have given us the insight for the below points. Bet you can't guess which ones I submitted?
Aircrafts, however climate controlled they are, or pretend to be, still can get pretty cold. A kitten doesn't even begin to regulate its own body temperature until 4-6 weeks old, and it doesn't have total control until about 16 weeks of age. The younger the cat, the more prone to cold it is. Very old cats are also prone to feeling it more, but even a healthy cat can freeze in a short period, especially if it's used to being kept always in a house.
A PTU means that, even if we want to, we can't escape the cold, so it's important to provide us with enough cosy warmth in there. Lots of blankets are a must, and the warmer, the better. We should be able to snuggle right down and bury ourselves in it if we need to so that we're out of all draughts. Snugglesacks, sleeping bags for cats, are also very useful. For hairless cats or short-haired kittens, a sweater will also help, but do be aware that if it doesn't fit snugly, the cat may try and escape and end up tangled in it. If the airline will allow it, it's worthwhile wrapping a heat pack in layers of towel and placing it at one end of the PTU to provide extra warmth.
This is a very important part of any journey. Some airlines suggest that food is removed before flying, but if you ask me, that's just wrong! Only the best, freshest tuna, the most juicey prawns and the total contents of a whole bag of treats will sustain your precious cargo long enough for it to reach the other end. The human says I have to tell you I'm joking so that you know that your cat can survive without it, but I'm not admitting that, even under torture! If I do, it means she'll know that my "I'm starving, feed me or I might just faint right this minute" lost kitten miaow doesn't indicate the dire circumstances it pretends to! The human says that it's fine for a cat to be without food for a few hours, but I don't agree. If you value your cat's sanity, then feed fish and treats. It's the only way!
Water
It's very important that your cat has water at all times. This should be provided in a bowl which attaches to the door of the PTU. This way, it can be refilled easily and won't spill over on top of them. If they are travelling in the height of summer, it might be a good idea to freeze water as ice cubes, as the cat will have fresh, cold water as the ice melts. Here it's also important to note that as well as getting too cold, cats can also over-heat. See my next point. Obviously, if it's winter and very cold, freezing the water isn't going to be such a bright idea.
Temperatures can reach staggering proportions in some parts of the world, and this can be just as dangerous to your companion as cold can. Long-haired cats suffer the most here, unfortunately. When I went to my first show I got too hot, and that was without me being stuck in a stuffy cargo hold or left sitting in the sun for a long time. My human was able to keep me cool with ice and fanning and that sort of thing, but if you're on a plane, you won't have a handy people to cool you down. Suggest to them that they pack an ice-pack wrapped in layers of towel in with you. When you're packing though, whether it's a heat pack or a cold one, you must also make sure that the PTU is big enough to allow the kitten or cat to move away from the pack to equalise body temperature if necessary. This is super important, as without the room to do this, you could be causing the problems you're trying to avoid. Imagine lying on a block of ice for hours. You'd get far too cold!
This is an absolute must, even if you're only in a PTU for a short period of time. It's insensible and frankly insensitive of peoples to think that cats can survive in a PTU or in any area that doesn't have at least a gazillion ping pong balls in it. Sure you might be a bit squashed and pressed for space, but it's worth it to make sure that the ping pong balls make it to their new home safely. The peoples won't leave you behind, so if you have them in with you, they can't leave the balls behind either. A stuffed or rope mousey can also make for good company on the long journey, and when you get tired of conversation, he's fun for bunny-kicking.
Some airlines are more pet friendly than others. Some are dedicated only to animal transport while others treat us as no more than a noisy piece of luggage that needs to be tolerated rather than loved. I don't understand this myself, but they continue to take this attitude. Delta have many reported animal deaths every year, so unless you're flying with your peoples in the cabbin, I'd probably give that one a miss unless you're being transported at a time of the year when the weather is mild and comfortable. If at all possible, I'd make your peoples drive you there rather than flying at all, but I know that isn't always an option.
I hope some of those thoughts will help you if you are ever considering allowing your peoples to fly with you. Keep a close eye on them, friends, and make sure you're put at as little danger as possible! Today my human and I think of the family who didn't get lucky, of the kitten who was really too young to leave her mummycat and go travelling on her very own, and of the breeder who must be feeling the loss more than anyone as she knew the kitten for the longest. Let us hope that nothing like this ever happens again. If this post saves only one life, then we have made a difference. Perhaps the post on your blog will only add to the life saving that we can all accomplish together.
Warning, the story below is very upsetting. Please be aware of this before you read further.
This is the tale as written by the people of a kitten who was needlessly killed by neglegence from Delta Airlines. If you want to see a picture of her, I believe Pedda's Blog
has one of her at nine weeks old.
Kitten Dies on Delta Airlines
Hi Everyone, Last night our family experienced the worst tragedy I have ever personally experienced & I wanted to post this hoping to reach as many Sphynx cat owners & breeders as I possibly can.
We purchased an 11 week old Sphynx kitten from a breeder & her flight was scheduled to come in last night at 8:40PM on Delta Flight # 738 into BDL (Hartford). (Climate controlled cargo by Delta Dash)
We arrived at the airport at 8:15pm, camera & 2 kids in hand to pick up our long awaited new arrival. We immediately went to baggage claim where we would pick her up from her long flight from Utah.
When we arrived, we were told to go sit by the conveyors for luggage & that as soon as the plane was unloaded, they would bring our new family member out to us. We waited & waited & at 8:50 I went to the baggage claim & asked for an update. I told the woman that the kitten was a Sphynx & had no hair & that I was beginning to worry since it was only 7 degrees outside. I was told the flight had arrived on time (8:40pm), but to sit back down, that the cargo hold latch was stuck, but they were doing all they could & would bring her out as soon as they could.
I wasn't incredibly alarmed, After all, I paid $290 for her to be in a climate controlled cargo area. I figured she would be fine as long as she wasn't outdoors. At 9:30pm, they brought the carrier out to me & the woman who handed the carrier to me told me I should take her out & that the carrier was very cold. She removed the zip ties & I took the carrier to the floor & opened the door.
The kitten was ICE cold, limp, and unresponsive. I IMMEDIATELY put her into my coat, grabbed my kids by the hands & ran out of the airport to get her into my car & cranked up the heat putting all vents on her as I rubbed her trying to warm her up.
She couldn't lift or control any limbs, her breathing was labored, she had a blank stare in her eyes, and she let out a meow. As if to say help me -- please.
We rushed her to the emergency vet clinic, but to my utter devastation, on the drive, she let out a blood curdling cry & went completely limp as we frantically drove to the vet.
When we arrived, I literally ran in, and gave her to the nurse who whisked her into the back. After 10 minutes, a vet came out & told me that she that she was "DOA" and that there was nothing they could have done to save her. There was nothing I could have done to save her either.
The vet then explained to me that once a plane lands, the cargo compartment depressurizes & there is no longer climate control. She told me that she didn't stand a chance in this freezing weather sitting in the Delta Cargo hold for almost 50 minutes.
I spent the rest of the night last night crying & more or less having a nervous breakdown. She died cold, lonely & scared. Her last hour of life was spent frozen & unable to escape. I am so utterly devastated -- I cannot express to anyone how this feels. I am so sad for her, her little 11 week life lost for no reason. A tragedy that could have been prevented if the airline had valued her little promising life.
Delta didn't have much to say to me last night & I am waiting for the president of cargo to call me today, the bottom line is that they can't bring her back to me or my family, there is nothing they can say or do to make this whole. We don't want a new kitten, we fell in love with HER. She was our new child & there is nothing that can be done to bring her home to us. Snickers lost her life unnecessarily.
I just hope that by reading this, I can save someone else the devastation. If you are buying a kitten & live in a cold climate -- PLEASE RETHINK SHIPMENT WHEN IT IS BELOW 30 degrees. If you are a breeder -- PLEASE RETHINK SHIPMENT if you are shipping to an area below 30 degrees. You can put a kitten in a climate controlled cargo, but if it depressurizes -- IT IS NO LONGER CLIMATE CONTROLLED.
Please please please don't let another kitten die, be patient, let it warm up a bit. As we all know, these hairless creatures are the most loving wonderful animals, but they just don't stand a chance against a cargo area that is utterly freezing with employees who are more concerned with getting luggage to their respective owners. Value life everyone, I have just experienced something I pray no one here has too. Don't let Snickers lost life be in vain, I pray you guys read this & maybe another kittens life won't be lost to the cold & lonely Delta Cargo holds.
If you want to read the original thread that the story was posted on, please click Here
Tips for Flying with Animals
In response to reading this, the human and I thought that we should put together our thoughts on safe travel with a pet in an airline. From the start we'll admit that the human's never put a cat on a plane before, and I can't tell you what it's like cuz I've never travelled that way either. But common sense and a lot of reading have given us the insight for the below points. Bet you can't guess which ones I submitted?
Warmth
Aircrafts, however climate controlled they are, or pretend to be, still can get pretty cold. A kitten doesn't even begin to regulate its own body temperature until 4-6 weeks old, and it doesn't have total control until about 16 weeks of age. The younger the cat, the more prone to cold it is. Very old cats are also prone to feeling it more, but even a healthy cat can freeze in a short period, especially if it's used to being kept always in a house.
A PTU means that, even if we want to, we can't escape the cold, so it's important to provide us with enough cosy warmth in there. Lots of blankets are a must, and the warmer, the better. We should be able to snuggle right down and bury ourselves in it if we need to so that we're out of all draughts. Snugglesacks, sleeping bags for cats, are also very useful. For hairless cats or short-haired kittens, a sweater will also help, but do be aware that if it doesn't fit snugly, the cat may try and escape and end up tangled in it. If the airline will allow it, it's worthwhile wrapping a heat pack in layers of towel and placing it at one end of the PTU to provide extra warmth.
Food
This is a very important part of any journey. Some airlines suggest that food is removed before flying, but if you ask me, that's just wrong! Only the best, freshest tuna, the most juicey prawns and the total contents of a whole bag of treats will sustain your precious cargo long enough for it to reach the other end. The human says I have to tell you I'm joking so that you know that your cat can survive without it, but I'm not admitting that, even under torture! If I do, it means she'll know that my "I'm starving, feed me or I might just faint right this minute" lost kitten miaow doesn't indicate the dire circumstances it pretends to! The human says that it's fine for a cat to be without food for a few hours, but I don't agree. If you value your cat's sanity, then feed fish and treats. It's the only way!
Water
It's very important that your cat has water at all times. This should be provided in a bowl which attaches to the door of the PTU. This way, it can be refilled easily and won't spill over on top of them. If they are travelling in the height of summer, it might be a good idea to freeze water as ice cubes, as the cat will have fresh, cold water as the ice melts. Here it's also important to note that as well as getting too cold, cats can also over-heat. See my next point. Obviously, if it's winter and very cold, freezing the water isn't going to be such a bright idea.
Too hot to handle?
Temperatures can reach staggering proportions in some parts of the world, and this can be just as dangerous to your companion as cold can. Long-haired cats suffer the most here, unfortunately. When I went to my first show I got too hot, and that was without me being stuck in a stuffy cargo hold or left sitting in the sun for a long time. My human was able to keep me cool with ice and fanning and that sort of thing, but if you're on a plane, you won't have a handy people to cool you down. Suggest to them that they pack an ice-pack wrapped in layers of towel in with you. When you're packing though, whether it's a heat pack or a cold one, you must also make sure that the PTU is big enough to allow the kitten or cat to move away from the pack to equalise body temperature if necessary. This is super important, as without the room to do this, you could be causing the problems you're trying to avoid. Imagine lying on a block of ice for hours. You'd get far too cold!
Toys
This is an absolute must, even if you're only in a PTU for a short period of time. It's insensible and frankly insensitive of peoples to think that cats can survive in a PTU or in any area that doesn't have at least a gazillion ping pong balls in it. Sure you might be a bit squashed and pressed for space, but it's worth it to make sure that the ping pong balls make it to their new home safely. The peoples won't leave you behind, so if you have them in with you, they can't leave the balls behind either. A stuffed or rope mousey can also make for good company on the long journey, and when you get tired of conversation, he's fun for bunny-kicking.
Airline
Some airlines are more pet friendly than others. Some are dedicated only to animal transport while others treat us as no more than a noisy piece of luggage that needs to be tolerated rather than loved. I don't understand this myself, but they continue to take this attitude. Delta have many reported animal deaths every year, so unless you're flying with your peoples in the cabbin, I'd probably give that one a miss unless you're being transported at a time of the year when the weather is mild and comfortable. If at all possible, I'd make your peoples drive you there rather than flying at all, but I know that isn't always an option.
I hope some of those thoughts will help you if you are ever considering allowing your peoples to fly with you. Keep a close eye on them, friends, and make sure you're put at as little danger as possible! Today my human and I think of the family who didn't get lucky, of the kitten who was really too young to leave her mummycat and go travelling on her very own, and of the breeder who must be feeling the loss more than anyone as she knew the kitten for the longest. Let us hope that nothing like this ever happens again. If this post saves only one life, then we have made a difference. Perhaps the post on your blog will only add to the life saving that we can all accomplish together.
Monday, 24 January 2011
Youtube, at Last!
At last, friends, the human has found it! She played this video to me a few times last week, and although I'm not quite up to Mocha's standards yet, it did give me something to aim for! The human gets the "Oooooo, it's so cute!" face whenever she listens to this.
This video may cause uncontrollable fits of squeeing and other associated side effects in human watchers. All cats are advised to maintain a safe distance whilst it is in progress. Safety is paramount. Impressionable kittens, don't try this at home!
Click here to watch Cafe Mocha Valencia's Purr Meows
Now, I'm off before she catches me for sloppy cuddles!
WARNING!
This video may cause uncontrollable fits of squeeing and other associated side effects in human watchers. All cats are advised to maintain a safe distance whilst it is in progress. Safety is paramount. Impressionable kittens, don't try this at home!
Click here to watch Cafe Mocha Valencia's Purr Meows
Now, I'm off before she catches me for sloppy cuddles!
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