Tag: Boris

It was two weeks after his nip day that Boris turned up again. He looks so much like Alice, a skinny tabby cat, that it took me a blurry early-morning moment to do the math and realize I had too many cats on my porch.

He’s been hanging out for a few weeks now. The rest of the colony seems to accept him now that he’s not oozing testosterone and male issues. I can pet him sometimes if he’s surrounded by other cats getting pet.

I’m pretty sure he’s a litter mate of Alice as well. She snuzzles him and ducks down into his side fur for comfort. Which is great for her because she obviously desperately wants a family and comforting. And he skulks around, looking to her for how this new family colony works.

He is still slithers around cautiously. He slithers up to Voldemort on his belly, asking for acceptance. And when I get home from work, or peek out the front window, Boris is in one box on the porch and Alice is in another box. It’s a tradition, it seems, that cats working their way into the colony spend a great deal of time on the front porch, in the epicenter of activity, learning how the colony works and earning their place in the family.

Hopefully Boris sticks around. I’ve nipped so many cats that I never see again, it’s nice to see the ones that stick around so I Can be reminded that this makes a difference to them. One day Boris will be a chunky, sassy boy. And I hope he forgets his early days of desperation.

SO EXCITED! Well, mostly tired, but so excited to catch Boris. He’s so skinny. There has to be a turning point for forgotten animals. A place they come to where fortunes change and they have a chance.

I was up late checking traps with no luck, and decided to leave the traps open all night. A risk because my own colony cats were dumb enough to get trapped from time to time, and the thought of old Henri in a trap all night is unbearable. But at almost 1AM I rationalized that waking at 6AM to check on the traps would be only a short time in a trap.

I was totally exhausted at 6AM when I checked the traps. I had to look ten times at the kitty in the crate under the trap cover. There are so many brown/grey tabbies in the neighborhood, it could have been any number of cats. My first concern is always the left ear. No nip on the ear means an automatic trip to the Catnip clinic. And this little guy was completely ear-intact.

I sleep-drunkenly brushed teeth and got dressed, and came out to check again. Still no ear nipping, and this guy was somewhat familiar. I figured I would drive him to the clinic and see what happened. (I live in fear of turning up at an Operation Catnip clinic with a cat that’s clearly already been nipped, because they’ll all think I’m losing my marbles.)

After dropping him off, I stumbled home for another two hours sleep before heading back over to volunteer for the afternoon clinic shift. I checked on him and he was already awake in the discharge queue. He is one of the sad kitties with a sad, long meow. And he meowed a lot. He also spent the afternoon trying to get out of his crate, so he banged up his nose and forehead, and rubbed most of the fur off the front of his face. I kept covering up his crate but that didn’t help him this time.

By the time I released him the next morning, he had a patchy face and a bloody nose. This happens from time to time because they’re doped up and unaware of their surroundings. His long, skinny frame went loping down my front yard and into the early morning mist. One last glance back, sad eyes and shaved balls, and he was gone.