Cat Toy Hall of Fame: $5 Cat Toys

Let's pretend you found a 20-dollar bill in the pocket of the jacket you haven't worn since last spring. Surprise! Since you've already paid the bills for the month, you figure that's twenty bucks surplus - why not treat yourself? So you go out for lunch and spend about fifteen dollars on a crazy-good pulled pork sandwich. But at the end of the day you find yourself wondering: What to do with the remaining five dollars???

How about treating your best beloved pet to a new cat toy? (Surely he or she deserves to benefit from this windfall, too.) That's a great idea! And I have some suggestions for you. These toys cost around five dollars and at least one of them is bound to make you a hero at home.

1. Boots & Barkley 4 Desserts Cat Toys. These are available at Target for just $4.99. I bought them because I just could not get over how cute that doughnut is! (At least, I think it's a doughnut.) Doughnuts are probably my second favorite thing - right behind cats, of course. The other desserts are a slice of pie, a chocolate-covered strawberry, and a cupcake. When I brought these toys home, I was a tad disappointed that my cats weren't as excited about the doughnut as I had been. The cupcake caught their attention, but they destroyed it in seconds. But the strawberry! Oh ho, that strawberry has seen a lot of action in this house, so I guess that makes the whole thing worth five bucks.

2. KONG Kitten Mice. These adorable, fuzzy, pastel-colored mice each contain a cellophane pouch of catnip, the sound and smell of which makes them irresistible to junior hunters. They're fairly durable toys; nevertheless, I can't tell you how many of these I went through when Baby was a tyke. He LOVED them. Now he's older and more mature, but we still highly recommend these mice. They are so worth $5.99; you can buy them online or in most pet stores. 

3. National Geographic Wooly Mice. I picked up these toys for $6.99 at PetSmart, seeing that they were similar to the mice from Target that my cats really enjoy. They're a bit bigger, and a little less hardy - they tend to pop up around the house missing tails and ears, but I guess that's as good an indication as any that they were enjoyed. 

4. KONG Naturals Catnip Straw Cylinder. This toy has a unique texture that makes it quite fun, I think. When I adopted Spike, it was one of the toys his foster mom sent with him, insisting he loved it so much. And he DID. But depending on your cat, you might not want to leave it laying around, as the feathers pull out very easily and might be ingested. This toy is available at PetSmart and various online retailers for around $5.50. 

5. Hartz Just for Cats Midnight Crazies. I saved the best for last today! I can't even remember where I first purchased these balls, but now I get them from Amazon for just about $5 (with shipping and handling, closer to seven or eight dollars). But, wow! You get a lot of bang for your buck with these. My cat Baby couldn't care less for them, but Spike LOVES them. There are probably thirty of them scattered throughout the house - under dressers, cabinets, and couches - you know how it is. These slotted plastic balls have a plastic jingle bell inside, and they come in many bright colors. There are a LOT of similar toys on the market, so you might find your cat enjoys those just as well. But I've tried several different types of balls on Spike, and these are hands down his favorite. I believe it's the way his teeth lock into the slots of these balls - the way they're cut is not the same as most of the 'lattice'-type balls you'll see in grocery stores. After chasing them all over the kitchen, Spike really enjoys carrying them around in his mouth like freshly caught prey. He goes crazy for them! Sometimes at midnight. Just like the name suggests.

So, the next time you have an extra five dollars on hand and would like to treat your cat, consider trying one of these great toys. My cats can vouch that these toys are a lot of fun. And if you ever happen to be in Gasport, New York, I also know a place you can get one of those crazy-good pulled pork sandwiches.

Why Playtime is Important

We interrupt this program for a word from our sponsors...

Just kidding. I don't have any sponsors. 

But I have been so busy compiling the "Cat Toy Hall of Fame" that I forgot to mention WHY I suddenly decided to discuss cat toys. It is perhaps not that out-of-place, since this is a cat blog, after all, but I actually did have a specific reason to start this thread.

I briefly touched on it in my first Cat Toy Hall of Fame post, and it is this: playing with your cats is very important. I've said it once, I'll say it again: a bored cat is an unhappy cat.

But it not just about entertaining your cat. You may be aware, but in case you're not I'll enlighten you: obesity in household pets is becoming an epidemic in America, much like with humans. Obesity contributes to a number of health issues in pets (again, similar to humans): heart disease, cancer, arthritis, and diabetes are just a few. Still, it's becoming commonplace to see dogs with swaying bellies and cats shaped like basketballs. Why?

I have given this some thought, and since our pets tend to lead the same lifestyle we do, I actually didn't have to think too hard. I've come up with two reasons: 

1. Lack of exercise. Face it, America: we're lazy. And so are our pets. I know, I know; when you get home after a hard day of work, the last thing you want to do is take the dog for a long walk, or chase your cat around the house with a cat toy. But dogs and cats were simply not designed to loaf around all day, every day. Think about their ancestors: both wild dogs and wild cats are constantly on the move, patrolling their territory, competing with others of their species, and hunting down their next meal. Our household pets have similar instincts, and it's important they be allowed to channel those drives into appropriate activities, even if it's a little inconvenient at times. If you take some time to exercise your animals, not only will they be happier, they'll be healthier, too. 

2. Unhealthy eating habits. This one is a bit trickier, so I'll probably delve into it in a later post. Every cat is different and will have different dietary needs, but for now let's just say that if your cat is shaped like a basketball, then you probably need to readdress your cat's diet. I recommend consulting your vet to create a plan that will work for your individual cat.

I have a theory that some people think food = love. We sometimes feel guilty for not spending enough time with our pets, so we compensate by filling up their food bowls. Then, because our pets are so bored, they eat it. Then we fill the bowl again - it's a cycle that benefits no one. Or, perhaps we're busy paying bills or cooking dinner or watching tv, and we just don't have the time or the energy to play, so we throw them a handful of treats to keep them out of sight and out of mind for awhile.

But we really mustn't let food be the only way to demonstrate our affection for our pets. One of the best ways to express love to them and bond with them is to play with them, one on one. I recommend playing with your cats for at least fifteen minutes a day. Do something they really love, whether it's playing fetch with a mousie or a ball, playing hide-and-go-seek, or even something as simple as playing with a laser. As long as it gets them moving, it will help them get into the shape they were meant to be in. It will also increase their affection for you.

My cats get so excited when I pull out their toy box, or open the special drawer that houses their most favorite toys and treats. They love playtime - not just because they've been sleeping all day and they finally get to burn some energy, but also, I think, because they know I'm paying attention to them and only to them. Some cats like being the center of attention, and ALL cats appreciate some degree of acknowledgement. Playing with your cats is the best way to say "Hey, you're important to me. Let's spend some time together." You'll probably discover that it's really a lot of fun for you, too.

Cat Toy Hall of Fame: Cheap Cat Toys

In my previous post I showed you just some of the cat toys you can make at home for free. Today I want to highlight five cat toys that are less than $5 apiece (read: CHEAP!). Now, I always say 'You get what you pay for,' so these toys certainly aren't going to last forever. But if you try them and your cats love them as much as mine do, I think you'll agree it balances out. So here we go!

1. Laser toy. Lasers are no longer avant-garde technology, so you can actually find keychain laser pointers for cheap at a dollar store or super center near you. This particular toy is specifically marketed as a pet toy; you can find it at Ace Hardware for $2.29, but it often goes on sale for $1. Now, not ALL cats enjoy chasing a laser, as a rule, but many younger cats, especially, will go bananas for it. It's a fantastic way to exercise your cat without having to move much yourself. Experts recommend tossing your cats a real toy throughout the chase, so they have something to 'catch.' A reward with a few treats after playtime is always nice, too. 

2. Grreat Choice Feather Tailed Catnip Mouse. I call these "mouskies", because they're so furry they must be from Russia. They are very inexpensive ($1.19), and can be purchased from the bulk toy bins at PetSmart or online. They feature a tail of feathers and rattles inside. Make sure you pick one that rattles really good. My cat Baby has always really enjoyed these mice, though he prefers the grey color over the tan color in the picture. 

3. Grreat Choice Crinkle Ball. Some cats love the crinkly sound of these foil balls, which can also be found in the bulk toy bins at PetSmart for only 0.99 - so cheap you can go ahead and buy a few. Pick some that aren't too flattened - the ball shape makes it perfect for tossing and rolling.

4. Big Ol' Catnip Sack. In store, I have only been able to find these at Pet Supplies Plus, and there may not be one of those near you. But you can buy them online at various sites for around $3.  Two things I love about this toy: one, the catnip is very potent, and two, the canvas construction is quite durable. My outdoor cat Ollie adores this toy - he slobbers all over it until the whole sack has turned green. You probably don't need to buy this specific catnip pouch. There are plenty on the market, and you may even be able to find someone locally who makes them by hand. But I recommend this one because my cats seems to prefer it over any others I've tried. 

5. SmartyKat Skitter Critters Catnip Mice. I buy these at Target in packs of three for $1.97, but they are also available online from various retailers. They used to be made of a canvas-type material; now they're made of a furry cloth, but no matter! The cats love them anyhow. Their small compact bodies fit perfectly in a cat's mouth, just like a real mouse. They feature twine tails, sewn eyes, and fabric ears, which in my experience have never fallen off, so extra points for durability. My cats will play fetch with these mice for a long while, up until they push them out of reach under the sofa, which I'm sad to say is the fate of most of their toys. 

These are my recommendations for cheap cat toys, one tier up from free. There are SO many cat toys on the market that you may find many others. It's important to experiment and find the toys that really get your cats excited for playtime, and since most of these only cost a dollar or two, how could you go wrong???

Cat Toy Hall of Fame: Thrifty Cat Toys

Activity is a very important part of a cat's day, although some might think otherwise. It's actually not normal or healthy for a cat to nap all day and night, contrary to widely-held popular opinion. Cats have an instinctive drive to hunt; even if they have never set a toe outdoors, you may catch your cat 'hunting' stray socks, light reflections, dust bunnies, or even his own tail. It's important for your cat's hunting drive to be satisfied, or he may start acting out in inappropriate ways, such as attacking YOU or guests to your home. A bored cat is an unhappy cat. But you don't need to spend a small fortune on the latest and greatest cat toys to keep your cat happy. In fact, you probably don't need to spend anything at all. Here I have compiled a list of cats toys that are certain to keep your cat busy, and, best of all, are FREE.

1. An old shoelace. Dangle it, drag it - eventually a wiggly string will catch even the laziest cat's eye. The string in the photo was once the drawstring of one of my hoodies. It came out in the wash, and you know how impossible it is to get those things back in. Now it is now one of my cats' most favorite toys. *Note: It is not recommended to allow cats to play with strings unsupervised.

2. Wire bread ties. I call them 'twisty ties'. Call them what you will, there's just something very attrative about the way it looks coupled with the way it flies across the floor with a flick of a paw... My cat Spike in particular goes nuts for these things. He steals them when I'm making lunch. There are probably 40 under our fridge right now. For similar reasons, both of my cats also adore chenille craft sticks (pipe cleaners). *Note: It is recommended that you supervise playtime with these toys as they can pose a choking hazard.

3. A ball made from an empty toilet paper tube. Talk about up-cycling! How many of these do you throw away in a week? This doodad is so easy to make: just cut the tube into chunks and stuff them together into a ball. My cats like these so much I was hardly able to snap these photos before they swiped it.

4. An empty paper towel tube. You could go out and spend $15 on a Kong Kickeroo...OR you could just rescue one of these from the trash instead. Spike really likes sinking his claws and teeth into one of these, and I much prefer he do that than sink his claws and teeth into my arm. He also likes to lie in his side and kick it with his strong back feet. This 'thumping' (as I call it) is a hunting device used by cats in the real world, and really burns up some energy. You can variate the old paper towel tube in many ways: cut some fringe into one end, seal the ends and fill with dry rice or beans or even catnip, or even snip a few small holes throughout and fill with yummy treats. The possibilities are endless.

5. Crumpled-up paper. My cat Baby loves nothing more than a wadded up paper napkin. I guess he likes the feeling of ripping it to shreds with his teeth and claws. Regardless, it's probably the easiest (and laziest) way to keep him busy for a few moments. 

With a little creativity and a pair of scissors, you can turn all sorts of useless things into super fun cat toys. And cats DO like them, I promise! Spike and Baby had so much fun helping me make this post that I made a video to share with you - proof that cats don't care how much or how little you paid for the toy as long as they get to kill it! So, no more excuses. Have some fun with your cat today!

How 'The Status Quo Calico' Got Its Name

After I had committed myself to writing a blog, I knew one of most important aspects would be the title. The title is how readers will find the blog, and what the blog will be referred to as in the future. It had to be succinct, but also meaningful, providing an introduction to the topic of my blog.

I was going to call it The Cat Whisperer--that's what dad jokingly calls me. He seems to believe I have a special insight into the feline mind, or something. But it didn't take long to discover that 'The Cat Whisperer' is already a registered trademark. So, it would have to be something far less obvious, something unique to me.

Now, here's something unique about me: I love cats, but another one of my passions is Barbies. This is a secret, so don't tell anyone. I consider myself a collector. I have something in the neighborhood of 400 Barbie dolls, as well as Barbie books and movies and such. Probably the best Barbie movie to date (in my opinion) is Barbie as The Princess and the Pauper. It's a musical spin on the classic tale The Prince and the Pauper, by Mark Twain. In the movie, Princess Anneliese and Pauper Erika each have a cat.

Barbie as Princess Anneliese with her white cat Serafina, and Barbie again as Pauper Erika with her calico cat Wolfie.

One of the musical numbers in the movie is about Erika's cat, Wolfie. Wolfie is a male calico, which is weird. He behaves like a dog and barks like a dog, which is also weird. Anyway, the song is called "The Cat's Meow." Erika sings it to Wolfie when he tries to act more like a cat and hide his true nature. My favorite line is: "You're no status quo calico, so why keep trying to be?" Basically, the theme of the song is to be yourself, even if you're a huge weirdo, and the ones who really love you will love you still. As you now know, I'm a pretty big weirdo, so that, for me, is an important message. I also have the movie's soundtrack on my iPod, and I have always enjoyed singing that particular song to my cats. (Or, rather, in the vicinity of my cats - I doubt they listen.)

The words 'status quo calico' have a nice ring to them, don't you think? I thought so. And I like calicoes. Callie, the inspiration for this blog, was a calico (and for the record she was definitely not a 'status quo' calico, either). Everything just seemed to click once I latched onto that phrase, and thus 'The Status Quo Calico' was born. I hope you like it as much as I do.

How 'The Status Quo Calico' Came To Be

Blogging always seemed to me like a very 'stay-at-home' mom kind of thing to do (not that there's anything wrong with that). I didn't take blogging seriously for a long while, thinking it was likely one of those cyber trends that would eventually fade. But apparently blogs are here to stay, and thanks to the inter-connectivity of social networks such as Pintrest, blogs are growing more prominent than ever. Still, I never had any interest in being a blogger, until very recently.

Six months ago, my calico cat named Callie was diagnosed with effusive FIP. Feline Infectious Peritonitis is a feline-specific autoimmune disease, the complications of which are fatal. I'll spare you the medical explanation for now because, frankly, I still don't understand it perfectly myself. Sadly, Callie did succumb to the disease and I had to put her down, but I'll tell you that story another time. I only mention it now because it was when she was first diagnosed and I turned to the internet for answers that I realized the importance of blogs.

Callie Mae and her 'princess pillow'

To learn the facts about FIP, I consulted Wikipedia and more distinguished sites such as the website of Cornell University's College of Veterinary Medicine. But it was the bloggers who mostly prepared me for the road my family and I would travel - people who had experience with FIP and blogged about it, relating not only what their cat went through but also what they (the cat owners) were feeling. One blogger stated quite aptly that FIP is 'a devastating disease', and that phrase has stuck with me ever since I first read it.

As often as I turn to the internet with any questions regarding my cats, it can be a great comfort to find people who have gone through similar situations and can guide someone out the other side, or at the very least are able to commiserate with you, even if they're people you've never met or even spoken to in person.

For example, a story popped up in my Facebook news feed one day of a stray cat that someone had found and taken to the vet, who told this person that the cat had FIP and should be put down. This seemed suspicious to me, since FIP is definitely not one of the first things a vet will test for right off the bat; and in fact there is no test that definitively says 'Yes, this is FIP', or 'No, this is not FIP, guess again'. I decided to comment on the story to offer what I had learned about FIP from my experience with Callie. I was not the only one to comment, of course; and I began to suspect that FIP is actually not as rare as I had been led to believe. But I enjoyed reading the comments, learning from the experience of the others. It felt good to come together with these people to offer support and advice to this woman we had never even met. As we each joined the conversation, it began to feel a little bit like an AA meeting: "Hello, my name is Emily, and my cat died from FIP..." "Hello, my name is Becky, and my cat also had FIP..." etc.

It has been a pattern in my life to search for ways to contribute something of value to the world, and suddenly I arrived at the realization that perhaps THIS is what I have to offer. Since I've always had cats, I've already been in a lot of unique (and not-so-unique) situations with those cats, and I've learned a lot of stuff along the way. I've also discovered that I really enjoy writing about my cats, but what's the point of writing if you're not going to share it with someone? Surely there is someone out there who would enjoy and maybe even benefit from my insight. What better way to reach the cat-lovers of the world than to blog?

Blogs are the internet's version of a diary - they can be used to offer first-person insight, to inject feeling and emotion in the otherwise sterile, factual world of online information, for better or for worse. If just one person stumbles upon  my blog and maybe learns something new or realizes they're not alone in their situation, then it was well worth the effort to write.

Houdini's Story, Chapter 3

The conclusion of the fish hook saga

Previously: Last Wednesday, the elusive Houdini was found to have a fish hook stuck in his bottom lip, along with a length of fishing line and a sinker.

I spent all of Wednesday evening trying to catch Houdini with the only humane trap I had on hand. The most I got was a baleful glance. I honestly hadn't expected him to fall for it anyway, so, frozen to the bone, tired, and hungry, I admitted defeat. ...For now. I decided to try the drop trap again, since that was how I caught him before. Maybe lightning does strike the same place twice.

By Thursday afternoon, I was hoping Houdini would still be around. As I've said, he's not one of the regulars. But he was there, and the sinker was still dangling from his mouth, so my brother and I quickly set up the drop trap not far from where Houdini was sunbathing on the lumber. I baited it with half-frozen sardines (it was, once again, very cold out). Houdini was a little interested; he stuck his head under the trap but shied away. I was afraid the sardines weren't very tempting, so I added some gravy-rich canned cat food. That WAS tempting...unfortunately, it was irresistible only to Bowser, who was 'starving' as usual. I watched Houdini watch Bowser mow down all the food in the trap. At one point, Bowser bumped into the prop and the box fell down over him - he didn't like that much at all.

We persevered, refreshing the bait, even moving the trap to a new location after awhile, but Houdini didn't even come close. So the only cat we caught that night was Bowser.

The following day, I was determined. It was our last chance to get Houdini to the vet before the weekend. I'm not taking no for an answer today, I told myself. Immediately after work, I put into motion my new and improved battle plans: I had decided to put the trap right on top of the wagon where the cats normally eat. I thought that if my helper (my brother Jason) held the rope while standing at a distance, and I acted like I was feeding the cats as usual, maybe we could trick Houdini into jumping onto the wagon and under the trap. We set up the trap, and then, just as I was opening the can of tuna to bait the trap, something caught my eye: lying right next to the cats' food dish was a fishing hook, a line, and a sinker.

"Jason!" I exclaimed. "Look what I found!" Apparently the fish hook had been torn out or just fell out on its own.

The fish hook that started all the drama. I still have it - might get it framed. ;)

Needless to say, I was ecstatic. This was good news for so many reasons. One, now we wouldn't have to stress out about trying to catch Houdini in the first place. Two, I wouldn't have to deplete the emergency fund by having the vet remove the hook, which may have required pricey anesthesia. And three, I would no longer be losing sleep at night wondering if Houdini was in pain or worrying the sinker might get caught somewhere. This was truly an answer to my prayers.

"See?" I told the cats as I fed them the tuna for a celebratory supper, "God really does care about you guys as much as I do!"

Houdini seemed okay - there was no bleeding or obvious inflammation, and he was eating just fine. I decided to just keep an eye on him to watch for infection or other signs of illness, but to otherwise leave him be.

Houdini on Friday night, enjoying a celebratory supper with all his buddies. The hook had been caught on his lower lip on his right side - so your left. Ta-da! No more hook! Houdini magicked his way out yet again.

This was one of those times I wished cats could talk. It sure would be interesting to know how Houdini had found himself in that predicament. Some would speculate that it was done maliciously, maybe by some bored neighborhood kids baiting cats with bits of meat, just for something to do. I acknowledge that that is a possibility, but it seems more likely to me that he somehow picked it up on the Erie Canal, which is not too far from the lumberyard.

The famous Erie Canal, right here in scenic Gasport. Every winter, the water is drained low to prevent damage from freezing, providing a glimpse of the Erie Canal's not-so-famous dirty underbelly. There's actually a lot of junk down there, as Houdini found out.

This time of year, the water in the canal is drained down low, exposing several feet of rocky banks. I know for a fact that fishermen constantly snag hooks and break their lines while fishing the canal, so it's really not that far-fetched to surmise that perhaps Houdini hooked himself while snacking on an old dead fish. But I guess only God and Houdini will ever know the whole story.

Houdini's Story, Chapter 2

In which Houdini is finally caught

Previously: Houdini the feral lumberyard kitty escaped from a traditional humane trap, forcing me to think of another way to catch him

There is another kind of trap known as a drop trap, which is often used to catch the more stubborn and wily feral cats. It's basically a large wooden box held up by a prop attached to a string - you bait the trap with something yummy, and when your quarry slips under the box, you pull the string and the box falls over the cat. I'm sure you've seen this done with a cardboard box, a twig, and a string in the classic cartoons. Happily, the group who coordinated the TNVR of the lumberyard cats had a drop trap available. 

An "Alley Cat Allies" collapsible drop trap. Note the PVC prop with plenty of cord on a spool.

One side of the trap features a sliding door. I really just like this picture for its artistic value. Nothing like shooting right into the sun for dramatic flair. ;)

After giving Houdini plenty of time to forget (or forgive) our previous encounter, I borrowed the equipment and watched a video of a drop trap in use. As usual, there was not a lot of guidance; these types of things are best learnt by doing. I wasn't worried, though I was anxious to get the job done. Finally, on a cold night in early December, I set the trap up on a level surface near the feeding station and baited it with tuna. I sat on a flight of stairs about five feet away, where I could watch the trap through the railing.

Houdini showed up at around five o'clock, right on schedule. Intrigued by the strange device, he approached it with his usual caution, getting closer and closer, sniffing all around it. He tip-toed beneath the box to check out the tuna, probably thinking to himself, "There's something fishy going on here." (Ha ha!) I almost pulled the string, but hesitated. He hadn't settled down to eat, and he wasn't 100% under the box. When he quickly exited just a few seconds later, I mentally kicked myself, feeling I would not get another chance. But though he was skittish, he was HUNGRY, so he circled back around. That tuna did smell good, too good to pass up... While he was making up his mind, I was wishing he would hurry up so I could go home and eat my own dinner. The cold had penetrated all the way to my bones, and it was getting dark. But my long-suffering was rewarded when finally, finally Houdini settled down at the plate, squarely under the box. With not an ounce of hesitation this time, I yanked the string.

The box fell.

Houdini freaked out. He jumped and thrashed, trying to throw the cage off. I dashed over to hold it down and struggled to cover the trap with a sheet. Drop trapping is definitely a job for two people, I realized, as I finally got the trap covered but had no one to hold it down while I transferred him. Fortunately, the cover had done its job of soothing Houdini, so I was able to take a moment to settle myself. I decided to make do with what was at hand, and simply pulled a couple deck boards from the nearest lumber bin and laid them over the top. Their weight was sufficient to secure the trap. After that, transferring him to a standard trap was a piece of cake: just line up the openings, slide open the doors, and he dashed right in, thinking he was getting away when in fact he was getting into a smaller trap.

I was grinning like a buffoon the whole time I worked, overwhelmingly proud of myself, and just plain relieved to have finally caught the elusive Houdini. I couldn't wait to share the good news with the people who were supporting my efforts.

Within days, Houdini was neutered, vaccinated, and ear-tipped, along with two other males that had joined the colony in the preceding months. When it was time to return Houdini, he of course raced out of the trap, fearful and frantic, probably ecstatic to be alive. But just a few yards away from me, he came to a dead halt, turned back toward me and sniffed the air, reassuring himself that he was indeed home. Then, with all the majesty of a king, he sat right down and tucked his tail around himself as if to say, "See? Told you I wasn't going anywhere."

A happy Houdini soaking up some winter sun. Photo taken February 25, 2015, exactly one week before the fish hook incident.

Houdini's Story, Chapter 1

In which Houdini pulls off the Great Escape

I had an unpleasant interruption in my routine yesterday afternoon when I was feeding the cats in the lumberyard--one of the cats, I noticed, had what looked like a string hanging out of its mouth. It was fishing line, about six inches long, and at the end of it, swinging around and clacking against things, was a sinker. I was horrified to discover that the line and sinker were dangling from a fishing hook that was embedded in the cat's lower lip.

For a moment, my mind raced in panic. How could I help this cat? There was simply no way I could grab him to get him into a carrier. Even trapping him would be difficult, since the cat in question was none other than the elusive Houdini. A few of the cats in the lumberyard I can hold, others I can at least touch, and I would rate my chances of catching one of them much higher than catching Houdini. How do you think he got his name, after all?

Let me tell you. In the spring of 2014, we noticed an untipped cat hanging out around the feeding stations (meaning the tip of his left ear wasn't cut off, which is how we identify the cats we have already trapped, neutered, and vaccinated). This cat wasn't totally feral - it didn't flee immediately upon sighting a human. In fact, it seemed familiar with the idea of people, but it had a definite wariness in its eyes. I was able to determine it was a male. He was a skinny tom, grey with black marbled tabby markings, a white chin and belly, and white all around the eyes like eyeliner. He was beautiful, and stood out from the muddy-brown, wall-eyed tigers more common in our colony.

Houdini before he was trapped and neutered. Notice his ears are both nice and pointy. Good-lookin' cat, and he knows it too.

I had every intention of trapping him and getting him fixed ASAP, as our colony was freshly established, only about six or seven months old, and I wanted to keep it 100% sterile. But the cat vanished,so I assumed he had just been passing through. He did return, however, turning up every once and a while throughout the summer, just to tease me. His appearances were unreliable, and any time I had some traps out, he was nowhere to be found.

Later, in the fall, he started coming more regularly. I chanced to observe that he was coming from the east, walking along the railroad tracks, usually at close to five o'clock, as if he knew that by then I was long gone. Now that I had an idea of his routine, I could use it to my advantage. I secured an appointment for him to get fixed and borrowed three traps, two of which were rusty and old, but I decided to try them anyway.

In the evening, I carefully laid my traps: one along the railroad tracks, one near the lumber, and one right by the cat food. I perched some distance away and waited. Waiting is always the hardest part. Finally, I heard the metallic snap of a trap! Inwardly, I was gleeful, but I made myself approach with care. The cat was in the trap right by the food bowls. But as I drew near, I found that things had not gone well. The door of the old trap had not shut all the way, and the cat, in desperation to get out, had shoved his head through the gap, followed by his front paws and shoulders. And there he stuck.

I hurried to reach him, thinking I could stuff him back into the trap, but my approach just freaked him out more. Frantically, he clawed the graveled ground with his fore paws, dragging the trap along behind him, the spring-loaded door clamped down on the middle of his back. It was a disturbing sight, and my priority switched to just keeping him from being hurt. Before I could get there, though, he suddenly popped free, shook the trap off, and dashed for the safety of the lumber bins. With dread I watched him go, thinking for sure that he must be hurt - a spine injury, or a broken leg...but while he seemed as shaken up as I was, he was still walking and moving about normally. The incident happened in probably less than a minute, but I can still see it all happening in my mind like a movie in slow motion.

A humane trap like this one is typically used for trapping feral cats. They're normally quite harmless, hence the name. My mistake was using a poor-quality trap. Sorry, Houdini.

The loss was disappointing, not just because I didn't catch him, but also because I knew it was very unlikely I would ever trap him again. Cats have excellent memories, and usually if you trap them once, they'll know better than to get into a trap a second time. But now this cat had actually been hurt by a trap - there was no way he'd ever forget that. I guessed traditional trapping was now out of the equation.

I didn't catch any cats that week, and as I told and retold the story of the cat that got away, I found myself saying things like, "He pulled a Houdini," as I described his daring escape. The name seemed fitting for the elusive cat, and it stuck.

Houdini also stuck...around that is. Despite his trauma, he would put in an appearance a few times a week all through the fall, strutting just out of reach. It was clear he wasn't going anywhere, and we were running out of warm weather, so the question remained:  How to catch him?

Find out how I finally caught Houdini in the next post: Houdini's Story, Chapter 2 - Coming soon!

Trouble Is A Friend

Is it possible to have too many cats in your life? Yes, I suppose it is. I myself have had moments where I've had just about enough of cats.

Spike likes to be involved in
everything I do. Here he is
'helping' me with the dishes.

Today, for example, Spike the Terror sneaked up to the table at lunchtime and as soon as I turned my back, he stole a slice of ham right out of my sandwich! Later, when I had just gotten home from work and really just wanted to rest for a while, Spike the Terror struck again! What fun it would be, he thought, to chew on this wire connecting your phone to the wall. Not long after I distracted him from that game, he decided to play 'chew on a plastic bag and see how long it takes human to come stop me from choking to death'. Ultimately, I shut him out of my room so he could be someone else's problem for a while.

Sometimes having cats is not unlike having small children. They need to be fed and cleaned up after, they keep you from your sleep, they sometimes need to be entertained or distracted, and if you aren't consistent with discipline, they turn into real terrors. They also need to be closely watched to ensure they don't stick their little fingers into an electrical socket, or something of that nature. I can't tell you how many times Baby has been caught trying to swallow lengths of ribbon and string. Like an infant, anything he finds on the floor goes right into his mouth. It makes me worry what they get into when I'm not home.

Baby likes to hide in the tunnel and attack unsuspecting passerby.

But I'm pretty sure that when I'm not around, they're innocently sleeping the hours away. Waiting. Conserving their energy for when I get home, at which time they will tear through the house like wild animals, knocking over potted plants and glasses of water, and just in general make nuisances of themselves.

On the other hand, those rare moments when they're being sweet and cuddly and paw-pawing your lap kind-of make up for their unending shenanigans. Sometimes I wonder, why do I have these cats? They're more trouble than their worth! I often threaten to take them back where I found them. (Not that it makes any difference.) But then there are days like yesterday, when I woke up just before noon, and all three cats were tucked up next to me in a row--a rare moment indeed! In moments like that - when you wake up with a smile on your face - you remember why they are worth it.

A picturesque Sunday morning: Baby in the foreground, Ollie in the middle, and Spike at the end.

Ollie's Story

One of the tell-tale signs that you are speaking to a Crazy Cat Lady is when you ask her how many cats she has and instead of answering “one” or “two”, she hesitates. She gazes past you for a moment, eyes squinted, lips pursed...and it dawns on you: she is actually counting them. In her head.

On the rare occasion that someone asks me how many cats I have, I usually pause, uncertain how to respond. It’s not that I don’t know how many cats I own, it’s just that I’m not sure how many of the cats I care for count as ‘mine’. For the record, I own two cats. But then there’s Ollie…

I don’t count Ollie as my cat, although I feed him, and make sure he gets to the vet when needed, and he sleeps in my bed. You could say he’s a family cat. But perhaps he’s best described as being a true ‘community cat’. As I like to say, “He comes with the neighborhood.”

One beautiful sunny summer day almost six years ago, I was with my brother at the neighbor’s house. The neighbors were away, and we were pet-sitting their five cats. We were just hanging out with the tv on, when suddenly my brother excitedly called my attention to the picture window in the living room. I looked up from a magazine and was shocked to see a little orange face peeking in at us. It was a cat! It was a slender orange tiger, to be more specific, with a gigantic head and bright, inquisitive eyes. My shock turned to amusement as the cat paced up and down the front porch, now standing up on its hind legs to look through the window, now meowing pathetically in at us. My amusement turned to concern, however, when the resident cats took offense to the newcomer’s nosiness. As I observed him pawing at the window, I was certain that if I opened the front door, this cat would waltz right in and make himself at home. We ultimately decided to ignore him, and I guess he went away.

A Peeping Tom! (Heh heh.)
We snapped this photo the first day Oliver showed up in town.

He didn't go far, however. It was some weeks later that I found out my younger brothers had started feeding the orange cat, even establishing a routine with him. I was not living at home that summer, but I received reports of how friendly and loving the cat was. They hadn't let him in the house, though, because at the time we had two elderly cats who I thought would have been very unhappy to have company.

When I finally came home, I immediately shared in my brothers’ compassion for the little creature. (He actually wasn’t that little; he was a mature adult cat, maybe a year or two old.) It seemed he could never get enough attention or food. He loved to be petted, and he was at first so thin you could feel every rib when you stroked his side. Yet his head was huge, and that was very funny to us. (I later learned that it’s quite normal for tom cats to have big heads.) My brothers had won his complete loyalty.

I felt that we should officially decide on a name for the cat, and after a little back-and-forth, we came up with “Oliver”. We called him Ollie (when we weren’t calling him Big Head). As every cat lover knows, naming a cat is the first step toward owning that cat. Sure enough, I next decided to allow Oliver to spend the chillier nights in our back room, which was a separate room that in normal houses would be the garage. He seemed okay with the arrangement, though he didn’t like to be inside for very long, and he was insatiably curious about the rest of the house.

One day, it happened: as I opened the interior door to go into the house, Ollie darted past me. He raced through the connecting laundry room and into the family room, where he hurried to investigate all the new and exciting sights and smells. I trailed along in his wake, resigned to the inevitable. He checked out a bedroom and the bathroom, then headed up the stairs. It wasn’t until he came face to face with one of the resident cats that I decided they weren’t ready for a meet-and-greet, so back outside Ollie went.

As it is with cats, once Ollie figured out how to get IN, it was difficult to keep him OUT. The question we were faced with was: Were we able and ready to have three cats? The hard sell was my father - not a lover of cats - but as winter approached, even he softened until finally, with a great sigh, he said, "Guess we'll have to come up with the money to get that cat fixed."

Ollie had already visited the veterinarian to be sure he was safe to interact with our other cats. He did need to be fixed (that’s just the responsible thing to do, after all), but the price for the surgery quoted by my vet was a little out of our price range. Happily, my mom quickly found a low-cost spay/neuter clinic through a local rescue group.

Interestingly, Oliver fit in rather well in our home. He only tried to mess with the older cats a few times, and he was soundly scolded until he learned to leave them alone. He ate a lot. Eventually, his body caught up to his head and things became proportional. Then it started going the other way and now he’s fat!

As I think about Ollie’s arrival in our neighborhood, I feel that he may have been a ‘drop-off’ -- a cat someone decided they didn’t want or couldn’t keep, so they dropped him off in the woods near our house. That would explain how he showed up out of the blue, his instinct to be inside with people, and his overall friendliness. But it’s also very possible he was simply a stray.

Ollie was the first ‘stray’ I intentionally took in, even though we already had two cats and I knew it would be tough to adopt him into the family, let alone get permission to do so. I have always had a very soft heart for the lost and lonely cats of the world, but Ollie was the first my father grudgingly allowed me to ‘save’. (Thanks, Dad!) I wonder how he would have felt about taking Ollie in if he knew he was opening the floodgates to a whole world of cat rescue.

I don’t think Dad regrets it. From time to time you might even find Ollie curled up in bed right there at Dad’s feet.

Ollie as he is today.
Photo taken Tuesday, February 24, 2015.

Just Your Typical Crazy Cat Lady

I have often been fondly (or not so fondly) referred to as a 'Crazy Cat Lady'. I always smile and go along with the joke; after all, I can't deny that I'm crazy about cats. Yet I am not your typical Cat Lady.

The term 'Crazy Cat Lady' tends to call to mind a single, older woman, living alone in a tiny, cluttered house with about two dozen cats. You know who I'm talking about: she wears sweat pants and a bathrobe; her hair is frizzy and flyaway; and a certain 'cat' smell lingers all around her. She doesn't really have friends, except maybe other cat ladies, because she really just prefers the company of her furry, four-legged 'family'.

In the mornings you'll see her step out onto the stoop, hear her call aloud to all the neighborhood felines while she dumps inordinate amounts of dry kibble into plastic bins lined up on her porch. You'll not see her much beside that, and you'll notice that no one comes to visit her because they can't abide the overwhelming odor of cat pee that permeates her home.

That, and the fact that she's half-mad. Each of her 'babies' has a name and a unique personality (even though they all look the same to you), and she spends her days having full-blown conversations with them. One of her cats will look up and meow at her, to which she will eagerly reply, "Yes, I know! I know!" and promptly go to fetch the treats. Sometimes she'll even respond with a meow of her own. It's almost eerie how she and the cats seem to be on the same wavelength. For these and other reasons, she tends to be ostracized by her community.

This a "Crazy Cat Lady Action Figure" that you can buy online. What makes this funny to me is that she only has, what? Six or seven cats? She really ought to be called "Average Cat Lady Action Figure".

Sound familiar? That's the age-old portrait of the Crazy Cat Lady, and, sure, even while I was writing it, I felt at moments that I was writing about myself. But let me tell you why that label doesn't quite fit me:

1. I'm not old. I'm only in my mid-twenties. Though I've had cats all my life...

...Okay, reading back through, I've realized that just about everything in the description I provided also applies to me. Except the smell thing -- for the record, I bathe daily and I keep the litter boxes clean and odor-free. Also, I don't have 24 cats. Yet.

But it's true that I don't have many friends, and I don't go out much, and I'm 'terminally single', as I like to call it. I don't care too much about how I look or what others think of me. And I talk to my cats ALL the time. ...Let's just say I'm a budding Cat Lady.

This was a gift from a friend who may know me a little too well.

But, hey! What's so wrong with that? I know many ladies who, it's likely, have also been labelled as Cat Ladies, and they are some of the most intelligent and compassionate people I have ever been blessed to meet. Why should being a cat lady be a stigma? Is it wrong to care about and even love those that may be considered beneath you? Is it unhealthy to surround yourself with the things that make you most happy? Are we degrading ourselves by committing our personal time and money to the care of those who would otherwise be hungry and homeless? If so, then so be it. I'm pretty sure all of us 'Crazy Cat Ladies' would just keep doing it anyway.

What I'm driving at is that, as humans, we all have our own unique passions and interests, and many of us feel a sort of responsibility to focus those passions toward helping others. Is that crazy? After all, the men and women who zealously protect our country aren't called 'Crazy Soldier People', are they? Those who feed the hungry and heal the sick in Africa aren't laughingly called 'Crazy Africa People'. No; instead, they are respected and admired for their contributions toward the betterment of our planet.

Perhaps our society should think of the Crazy Cat Lady in those terms. She may not be saving human lives, but she is giving everything she's got to help another living creature. Her contributions may be slight, but if everyone on Earth gave as much as she gives every day, imagine what a world it would be! Her heart is filled with love, and her home is always open to 'just one more'. If only everyone could each find the 'Crazy Cat Lady' inside of themselves.

"We can judge the heart of a man by his treatment of animals."

-Immanuel Kant