This has definitely been the Year of the Cat for the Banks household.

We took in Dusty — an adorable, young stray that was getting picked on by the other, more formidable strays — shortly after Sheryl and her cat Punkin moved into Joe’s house during the summer of 2004. He’s the most vocal cat we’ve ever met, and he carried on a conversation with us whenever he had the chance. And he certainly had more personality than many dogs we have met.

Unfortunately, after a year of marking EVERYWHERE around the house (especially as soon as the windows opened last spring), and after longer than that of Dusty and Punkin fighting, and after Punkin’s every-other-third-day of puking, and after trying every trick in the cat owner’s manual to make it all stop (Feliway, anti-anxiety drugs, behavior modification), and after considering the pros and cons of building an outdoor cat enclosure for him to enjoy (see just4cats.com for an example), on February 5th, we finally took him to a wonderful, caring cat sanctuary called Caroline’s Kids.

They will take care of him for the rest of his life, unless our living situation changes where we’re in a bigger house and/or can accommodate him going outside or unless he’s adopted. Adoption was another route we already tried; his charming good looks would initially open the door for a new owner, but his history of marking would close it again. However, as the vet and any other cat aficionado would say, he may not mark in a different living situation.

As of this moment, he’s still adjusting at the cat sanctuary, and we have been visiting him weekly to help him along. Any guilt we have felt has been assuaged by learning of other pet owners who have simply put their cat outside (not an option for our toothless, front claw-less Dusty, or any other city cat as far as anyone should be concerned who wants to call themselves humane) or worse even, put their cat to sleep for simply marking around the house.

Plus, we know that his options for life are still open in the future, either with us or with someone else. Furthermore, it is now considerably more peaceful around the house. Punkin, once irritable and anxious, no longer throws up all over the house, and has returned to being the playful only-child kitty Sheryl once knew. And Sheryl and I no longer have our daily search for urine spots throughout the house, something that would have spun out of control with a new baby.

If you would like to adopt Dusty, please do leave us a message! We miss him dearly, and though he has the company of many other friendly cats, we know that he would be happiest with a fellow talking sentient being.

We miss you already, baby.

[Updated 2/15/2006] Sheryl was right, much to the dismay and sadness of both of us. After a few more trips to the vet, we found that what we originally thought was a bite on Miss Plissken’s stomach from another animal, was actually an inoperable infection, tumor, or cancer, that she had tried to gnaw or scratch away.

Snakey had come home for us to take care of her. Had she not acquired this illness, she may have continued on her travels — where she went on those many months she didn’t spend with us, always refusing to be kept indoors, we’ll never know. But we’ve certainly made up interesting stories that help us come to terms with her death and her life alone.

So the last week of 2005, after reassurance from our vet that this was the best course of action for a FIV-infected cat, and after a month of her living peacefully in our basement, we decided to put her to sleep on the last Friday of the year.

With the baby coming soon, it has been difficult for either of us to post any follow-up about her. We’d been taking care of her ever since Sheryl and I met. Snakey’s optimism in the face of a hard, and short, life (the vet estimates that she was only 3-4 years old when she died) made us proud to take care of her, any way that she would take it — from building her heated outdoor house that she occupied as soon as she returned from her last trip, to having her operated on (to remove an infected uterus) shortly after we met her to extend her life a little into a happy one. The cat who sunned herself in our summer, backyard garden was a much more playful version of the nervous and hungry one that we found on our doorstep years ago.

The last memories we will have of her, aside from our twice-daily visits to our basement closet where she enjoyed respite from the elements, will be of finally being able to hold her in our arms once she passed away, the scent of her stinkly little self all over our clothes. This will always be a reminder of time we could have spent with her — had we met her when she was a kitten, before her original owner abandoned her, before she was made to fend for herself.

Previous Plissken Posts:

• 12/2005: Miss Pliss Progress Report
• 10/2005: Miss Plissken Kitty Returns, Again
• 04/2005: Where’s Miss Plissken?
• 12/2004: Miss Plissken Returns (First Plissken Post)

So, our miracle kitty returned, literally staggering up the driveway toward the back door where we used to feed her, so bony that I marveled how she was managing to stand, let alone walk toward me. A couple weeks of love and feeding followed as we also tried several times to get her to the vet (an infected paw, a suspiciously distended belly, and a funny smell). Fourth time was the charm, as Joe was finally able to gently grab her and put her in the carrier, with nary a protest for her exhausted little frame.

Once at the vet, we received confirmation that her belly was full of worms, thankfully easy to treat. But what we weren’t expecting was an open wound on that soft little belly, something we hadn’t noticed since she won’t let us pick her up or hold her, which was also the source of the smell. Thankfully, nothing vital was harmed, and the vet said that the wound had already begun to heal, a fact that continues to amaze us considering her FIV status.

So, lil’ Snakey is now living in the basement, warm and comfy in a very large dog cage, for now. She is finishing up a round of antibiotics, and we want to keep her in until her stomach has healed completely. In the meantime, Joe will be building a house for her that will essentially be in the basement, but will provide her with access to the outdoors when she wants it.

What we’ve discovered with half-feral kitties is that, even though they may love you, they don’t want to live indoors with you. The house we’re building is the best solution we can find for keeping her happy and safe.

What is it about Snake that melts our hearts and keeps us trying to find a way to give her a happy life? I think it’s the fact that, as hard and fearful as her life has been so far, she still loves and trusts us, always returning to us for help and comfort. All of her suffering and sickness has never turned her mean. She continues to love in her feral way. How could we betray that trust? How could we refuse that love? Sure, some will say she’s just a cat. But caring for her has taught us how patience and perseverance are as much a part of love as joy and affection.

We’re so glad she’s back!

Last we spoke about our dear, feral/stray, calico kitty, she had disappeared in April, likely due to the shenanigans of a trio of racoons that would nightly raid her food dish.

But today, Miss Snake Plissken returned, barely more than a skeleton, stomach distended. After a big dish of vittles and a heavy petting session (more painful for us, since we could feel her ribs under her skin), she returned to her insulated house I built for her a while ago. Since it was a pretty cold day, I plugged in her heating pad, and she hasn’t left us since.

We’re planning how to get her to the vet for her shots, and to check out her infected foot. And to consider whether it’s best for her to remain in our care outdoors this winter (she refuses to come inside with the other two cats) or consider options for another home.

She’s such a dear, sweet cat, and if someone were to give her a chance and keep her indoors in their home (she’s very well litter trained, we found, when she stayed indoors after her surgery) for more than 4 months, we’re confident that her full, true personality would finally come out, and that she’d make a great pet. We’d take her in, but she’s tested positive for FIV, but more inmportantly, a third indoor cat would be too much for us (humans and existing indoor cats) right now.

To help you start the New Year right, please enjoy watching our cat Dusty’s favorite daily pasttime.

Dusty’s New Year’s Message: If there’s anything you didn’t like about 2004, just flush it! Meowf!