(this might take a day or so to draft...)
If she was obviously a stray it would be easy to know what to do. If she was obviously being abused it would be easy to know what to do. I don't think either is the case. I suspect that what's happened is that some change of circumstance at home has made her not want to be there any more. Whatever that reason, last summer (in the months following my own cat's death (at about 14 from kidney failure resulting from polycystic kidney syndrome)) I became aware of her hanging around in my garden more and more. I'm not exactly god's gift to gardens and hardly go out there, so didn't interact with her. But I'd more and more often see her out there, and late at night hear her miowing plaintively - and in the months following my cat's death that was
very spooky! It's only in retrospect that I've identified this cat as the cause of that.
As the weather got colder it happened that one day I burnt something in the kitchen and left the window open to let the smoke out. When I returned I surprised her in the kitchen, whereupon she bolted straight for the cat-flap - and in so doing I suppose discovered that it works. But even then, as soon as she was outside she didn't do what most cats in that situation would do and just skulk away, but she stopped, looked back, and miowed... and came back.
I didn't exactly shoo her away; I do like cats after all, and I was still missing mine. She was skittish as hell but
wanted to come in, and I just had to be patient. She sniffed around, jumpily for a while, then she curled up on a box... and went to sleep for a couple of hours... I got back to work. (I work from home.)
Very quickly a pattern emerged: She was spending
most of her time with me, in my house. And nearly all of that time was spent sleeping, either in some cosy corner, or she'd come up to me for attention, and I'd give it, and take a work-break and recline and let her settle on me. And it was like she was
hanging on to me, for hours at a time, sometimes.
Some things I noticed right away:
- Her behaviour (when awake) seemed still very jumpy and neurotic; even though she clearly trusted me enough to sleep in my presence and on my chest. Very needy and clingy.
- She had a large amount of fur missing from her backside and abdomen and lower legs, especially; and it was plain from watching her that this was from overgrooming.
- She also had loss of fur, and underlying feline eczema, on her back, and it became apparent that she had fleas. A lot of itching. (OTOH there wasn't any eczema scabbiness at all where she'd pulled her fur out of her back-side and legs.)
- She didn't smell too good at the rear end, frankly, and had occasional problems with anal leakage. (ugh)
- Her eyes were often a bit weepy
- She showed no interest in play.
Anyway, after a couple of months of basically letting her sleep in my house, and giving her attention when (and pretty much only when) she came up and demanded it, some changes were apparent:
- The overgroomed area of her backside, abdomen and legs was growing back.
- But the eczema on her back was if anything worse. (Fleas probably like being indoors.)
... but that difference seemed to confirm my earlier guess that the non-eczema overgroomed areas had a psychological cause. From the start she had just
seemed stressed-out to me. I don't know why she won't stay at home, but I don't think she was staying outside out of enjoying the company of the other neighbourhood cats. I often watched them pick on her, and she wasn't good at holding her own.
List continues...
- She started to play! And I had to revise my guess of her age way down because she played - and plays now - the way kittens play: A lot, innovatively, on her own initiative as well as at the slightest invitation, with anything to hand; my hands, my feet, pens, batteries, cable-ties, empty toilet-roll tubes, non-empty kitchen rolls... as well as the toys I do get her. Things like grabbing-on with all claws and mouth when her tummy's stroked, the way kittens do; I'm still trying to teach her that she's a bit big for that now. (It's not an aggressive-switch; body-language is all "I'm playing".)
- She was putting on weight.
At this point it's definitely worth making something clear: I've never fed her. She's not my cat. People in my family have always been hospitable to friendly neighbourhood cats, but that hospitality does not include food: You do not feed other people's cats. The logic is that to a cat's mind, home is where the tin-opener is, and most visitors do fairly soon lose interest.
Whatever she gets from me (guessing it's a warm safe place and attention when she wants it), it's not food. But she was putting on weight. At first I thought, I was right, she was stressed out, and now she's less stressed she's able to put on more weight. I actually noticed the weight-gain before she started playing; when she did, the play was so kitten-like I've been revising my guess of her age so far down I have to think it possible she was still
growing. (By the way, the italics tag doesn't appear to be working. Noticed in preview.)
So I don't feed her, never have, not even treats. I do put plain water down for her, because I'd rather she drank that than from grimy puddles of standing water outside. She did, and does, drink the water. At first quite a
lot; now it's down to what I'd call normal levels. Anyway, the list continues...
- That occasional anal-leakage issue seemed to, er, dry up.
She still didn't, and doesn't, smell too great back there, but better than she did. - She just seems stronger, more confident.
Actually that's almost it for that stage of things; this is still before Christmas. Anyway, as mentioned, I had noticed the eczema getting worse, and I'd noticed other signs of fleas around the place where she'd been, and she was itching herself a lot. One evening in particular it was bothering her so much I basically decided I had to do
something.
Now, I don't know if her owners are doing anything to treat her fleas. I haven't seen any sign of it on
her; eg: when you put powder or spot-on on a cat you can
tell it's been done for a couple of days after. But just in case, I didn't want to do anything chemical that might be in addition to something the owners were doing. If she was mine, I'd definitely be taking her to the vet to get the chemicals to kill the critters. But as it was my first priority was that whatever I might try it had to be
safe.
My first thought was essential oils, which I had a period of being interested in when I was younger; but a few minutes googling told me that while that's good for treating fleas on
dogs it could be very harmful to
cats, so that was out. But I also read an account of someone who successfully treated a flea-infested litter of kittens (of a feral mother) by basically bathing them in olive oil. Okay, I thought, that's about the most benign substance I can think of, and if it kills and/or repels fleas, great; but the worst case should be no effect at all; but also, that olive oil is good for hair, skin and what she licks up shouldn't exactly do harm inside - it's often suggested as a dietary supplement for cats after all. I wasn't
hugely hopeful...
But it seemed to work. It seemed to give her some relief anyway. And she didn't actually seem to mind me doing it. Anyway, I've been doing that at irregular intervals ever since... and while the fleas aren't, I think, completey defeated - she still has itches and some eczema - it's much improved. The fur has been regrowing on her back nicely, and even looks about normal now as long as it isn't wet, when you can see it's a bit thin. And she lets me do it; she seems to even like it - kinda. I don't exactly hide my intentions anyway, and she jumps up to the table where I always do it, and sniffs at the bottle, interested, and lets me get on with it... with those little chirrups that I think mean something like "I'm not really convinced this is
proper... but don't stop."
She looks kind of greasy for a day or so, but after that her coat's lovely. It also seems to help her calm down, if she's having a particularly scatty or nervous day. (And she smells better.)
Anyway, not here to advocate olive oil. It's at best a partial, short-term treatment for her flea problem; a palliative, maybe. The ones on her choke to death, and others stay off her for a while, and her skin gets a chance to recover a bit. Cumulatively it seems to have produced some kind of improvement. I
want to deal with it properly. But... she's not my cat.
And the more this is going on the more it's weighing on me.
She has made her choice, and made it abundantly clear. She came to me, and I feel that puts an obligation on me. She was in a poor condition and now she's in a better one. I still want to take her to a vet; there are these minor (now more minor) niggling problems; but... she's not my cat. (If there had been any kind of obvious emergency 'on my watch', as it were, I wouldn't have hesitated for little concerns like whose cat it was.)
As of now, things are the same - she's become less needy, less clingy; ie: her behaviour more like a cat who's made herself at home. Sometimes she still follows me room-to-room, wanting to be next to me whatever; sometimes, like tonight, she's happy sleeping in the next room. OTOH she's finally getting the idea of what I mean when she pesters me in the kitchen and I open the outside door for her. I felt like such a heel the first time I think she 'got' it. She came past me back inside, did some displacement grooming for a while, then quietly left - and within about two minutes I could hear her in a confrontation with another cat - she doesn't
normally go home at that time of night and that was probably why.
I was away for a week at Christmas, and for shorter breaks since, and hoped that whatever home crisis first made her want to not spend time at home might have been transient and those periods when my house was dark and empty were her opportunity to at least try to give her humans another chance. It doesn't work like that, does it.
She's not apparently losing weight, so she's still getting enough food.
It
could go on like this. But I don't think it's right. Her owners could be forgiven for thinking she just likes the solitary, outdoor life, when the exact opposite is true. I'm getting all the benefit of having a cat with none of the responsibility, except that I
feel responsible. I
want to feed her, I
want to get her properly medically cared for. I want to take the damn collar off her, it's clearly annoying
her. (No, it's not a flea collar; and even if it was, it would be long-expired by now - still the same one as at the start.)
I've become accustomed to having her around, I've become fond of her, she's very good company, and frankly she's helped me through a period of depression I've been in for the last few months. I don't think it's right that she should have this divided home-sense - here being "home", now, clearly; but having to run the gauntlet to her original home to get food. That's a stress-factor for
her that can't be fixed without resolving all this.
I didn't even want another cat just yet. The plan, laughably so-called, was to move closer to the rest of my family and then, at some point, get a couple of kittens. But as someone says, life is what happens while you're making plans...
Logically, I should talk to her owners. This presupposes they are reasonable people. I can't even promise how reasonable I would be in their place. I only
think I've worked out which house she comes from, from watching the fences she climbs over when she leaves my house.
I don't feel able to make that contact. They
might be okay; they might even be a little relieved, if they're aware the cat has been having problems, to have a solution presented. On the other hand they might just ask me not to let her in any more; and if they did that I'd feel very obliged to comply - but I
know that I've done a lot of good for this cat, which would all get undone if I did that. And I know that I'm
her choice.
And I know I'm just not emotionally strong enough to handle what might turn into a horrible confrontation. I mean, how would you feel if someone told you that your cat preferred them to you and that they think the best solution is to for the cat to move in with them permanently?
I did
not set out to steal someone's cat. Why couldn't I just find an obvious stray? It would be so much easier to know what to do. If she was obviously abused I'd know what to do. But it's probable that her owners are... okay, just a bit clueless about something; maybe they went and bought a dog (or someone moved in who has one) and thought they'd get along like in a cute youtube video, or maybe there's a new baby in the house... I could speculate endlessly. It just could be something completely beyond their control.
That happened to me several years ago; I used to have two cats; a brother/sister pair. But they hated each other, and there were too many humans in the house at the time, and one of them (not me) was going through a yet-to-be-diagnosed mental breakdown, and the brother of the pair just decided, one day, that he wasn't going to live here any more. And he left. We found him, twice; but it was obvious the only way he was staying was if we kept him imprisoned in the house; and he hadn't done what this cat's done, and found or befriended anyone similar to how I am
now. At the time I
would have accepted a solution like that. I realised that he had decided to leave; I had a good idea what the problems were but I knew I couldn't
fix them, at least no-where near as fast as he needed them fixed. It became obvious I needed to find a new home for him pretty much instantly. That night I drove him to my mother's; and it turned out without the continual battles with his sister he really was a lovely, friendly cat. The story ended happily, but it also means I can
understand that some circumstances can change that mean that someone with a full and proper love of their cat just cannot provide the home environment their cat needs. It may not even be about resources; just the house is
wrong at this time, and the cat decides it can't live there. It's very upsetting. I felt such a failure about it. I'm just glad I was able to wring a solution out of it.
I often suspect - or maybe it was my rationalisation - that if she
hadn't befriended me, and at least had somewhere she could
be that was within reach of home, because she couldn't actually
be home, for whatever reason, that she might have run away completely, or just wandered further and got lost and gone properly stray. Instead she's had this halfway house, and a fair chance, I feel, for her to decide that home was, after all, where her tin-opener is, a chance for any temporary problems at home to have worked themselves out. Months have passed, it hasn't happened.
A friend suggested, why not just steal her? Why not just start feeding her? It's tempting. I even have cat food in the house, what remained of the nice food I bought for my cat to try to help her appetite shortly before she was diagnosed and that food became inappropriate. It's still not up to its expiry date. (And I
bet her bad smell is from not-very-good food.) After all, I'm pretty confident that the day I
do start feeding her would be the last day her owners ever saw her. It's the only reason she goes back there, I'm sure of it. (Her visits back simply aren't
long enough for anything much else. She goes for about an hour in the morning and an hour in the evening when I go to bed (when most rational people would already be in bed - I'm typing here at 3am) and otherwise it seems only goes out for loo-breaks.)
But then, I'd take her to the vet, and they'd wonder where she's from, and for all I know she's chipped and then my dastardly deed would be exposed!
But more than that, even if that didn't happen, I'd never get over the feeling of having stolen her, and having some idea what her unexplained disappearance would feel like to her owners.
Ideally I'd have her decide that her proper home is her home again. I would happily help her owners do that - except I won't shut her out of here; I'd want it to be a positive choice on her part, if the conditions are made right.
Then at least I could move as sort-of-planned without feeling I'm abandoning her.
I'd miss her terribly; and the flipside is that I
would be happy now to take her on.
But I - really - don't feel I can initiate the contact with her owners. There's too much capacity for disaster - from the cat's perspective. I'm half hoping they're on this forum and reading this and perhaps recognising (yes, that's why your cat sometimes turns up looking greasy! it's just olive oil!). Chances are thin; what I was really hoping for was... advice. Maybe if someone knows if there's some organisation that would be appropriate to mediate this - and the owners may turn out reasonable (and relieved) and mediation would quickly become unnecessary - but they may not; and I know that if I'm asked to refuse her entry by her owners, I will, and I know that if I do, she'll deteriorate again, quickly. It seems too trivial for the RSPCA - I really
don't suspect actual abuse or cruelty, and I don't want to do anything that seems like an accusation like that. It's just a cat with a problem that made a choice, and it's up to those of us with bigger brains to sort it all out somehow. I just don't know how.
That's why I joined this forum; hoping to get some advice backed by actual knowledge or experience.
