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- Jun 1, 2012
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Our Oreo was found dead under the porch of the coffee house next door one year ago today. I had been looking for him for about five days prior night after night. I couldn't sleep.
At this point our landlord wouldn't give in and let us have indoor kitties. But he had no problems with us doing what we could for the ferals in our area. Oreo was a tuxedo cat we had found almost exactly one year prior, as a small, maybe 10 week kitten. I'd sit near the bushes where he and his three littermates hid (no mother was in sight) with a few treats. Gradually I'd lured them over to my home about fifty feet away. They were desperately hungry and very very afraid. So at first I just put food out for them and let them eat. Then I stood there while they ate. Then I would touch them lightly while they ate. All of the littermates accepted touch at some point, but, the time comes in every litter where they separate and form new territories. Oreo stayed behind to help care for his blind sister, Sweetie.
April or so of last year, a new litter of feral kittens was born. The fathers in our colony actually kitten sit so the mothers can go get food; I've seen it happen. And on occasion Oreo was kitten sitting as well, but only two of those kittens went near him. One was a tuxedo; a dead ringer for his father. And the other, a longhaired Calico who is now queen of this house. However, the other father was much bigger than Oreo, whose health seemed to be already declining. We do not know what did him in; we do know that although we had even brought him inside so he could eat, he just kept getting thinner and thinner. Eventually, the other father pushed Oreo away from the house, and the litter of kittens pretty much lived on our porch.
I think Oreo knew his time was up, and he also saw we were trying to help his daughter. But she would not come around if he was there anymore. So, I think he just crawled out of our sight and died. One week later his tuxedo son was run over.
I was torn to pieces. This was a cat who would walk around the block with me, who was waiting on our porch every time we got home, who would crawl into my lap and paw at my face as if to wipe the tears away if I were crying. But I am also conflicted. If we had kept him, we probably could not have helped Binky, his suspected daughter, or Cookie, Binky's son. Cookie looks like his uncle (perhaps father), who I think is a half sibling of Binky.
There is a piece of Oreo's nature that resides in Binky, and his eyes... she has his eyes...
At this point our landlord wouldn't give in and let us have indoor kitties. But he had no problems with us doing what we could for the ferals in our area. Oreo was a tuxedo cat we had found almost exactly one year prior, as a small, maybe 10 week kitten. I'd sit near the bushes where he and his three littermates hid (no mother was in sight) with a few treats. Gradually I'd lured them over to my home about fifty feet away. They were desperately hungry and very very afraid. So at first I just put food out for them and let them eat. Then I stood there while they ate. Then I would touch them lightly while they ate. All of the littermates accepted touch at some point, but, the time comes in every litter where they separate and form new territories. Oreo stayed behind to help care for his blind sister, Sweetie.
April or so of last year, a new litter of feral kittens was born. The fathers in our colony actually kitten sit so the mothers can go get food; I've seen it happen. And on occasion Oreo was kitten sitting as well, but only two of those kittens went near him. One was a tuxedo; a dead ringer for his father. And the other, a longhaired Calico who is now queen of this house. However, the other father was much bigger than Oreo, whose health seemed to be already declining. We do not know what did him in; we do know that although we had even brought him inside so he could eat, he just kept getting thinner and thinner. Eventually, the other father pushed Oreo away from the house, and the litter of kittens pretty much lived on our porch.
I think Oreo knew his time was up, and he also saw we were trying to help his daughter. But she would not come around if he was there anymore. So, I think he just crawled out of our sight and died. One week later his tuxedo son was run over.
I was torn to pieces. This was a cat who would walk around the block with me, who was waiting on our porch every time we got home, who would crawl into my lap and paw at my face as if to wipe the tears away if I were crying. But I am also conflicted. If we had kept him, we probably could not have helped Binky, his suspected daughter, or Cookie, Binky's son. Cookie looks like his uncle (perhaps father), who I think is a half sibling of Binky.
There is a piece of Oreo's nature that resides in Binky, and his eyes... she has his eyes...