u/Nnnopamine

My boy, Prometheus, is older and slowing down a lot.

I'm working closely with his vet, but it would greatly help me to hear from him what he needs from me, what is causing him pain or discomfort (from his perspective), how I can help, and what he wants.

I've had him since he was a month old. He's my whole world and a very large part of my heart.

Any insight is so appreciated. 💜

​

Yes, those are her Barbies. She drags her toys one by one up the stairs to my room, including a plush banana slug that's the size of her, just to flop over and bunny kick.

TL;DR: She was feral with 4 babies, 2 didn't make it, other 2 and her found loving homes, her with me. This is her (very long) story.

This is Lila. She and her 4 babies were living in the parking lot of my apartment complex last August. At the time, her babies were about 8 weeks old. They were hiding in car engines.

2 of them... well... 😮‍💨 Cars + kittens hiding in them = 💔

So a neighbor I hadn't met yet and I sprung into action the day they were found, because we knew we had to get the other 2 and mama to safety ASAP.

The gardeners were coming that day, and we tried to find the remaining 2 kittens before that happened so they wouldn't be scared off, were following mama around, but alas, gardeners came and made lots of noise, then left.

We spent the rest of the day from about 11am looking for the babies and following mom around to see if she led us to them.

FINALLY, around 9pm, another neighbor came rolling up on a scooter, saying one kitten was at the end of the street, VERY close to a busy main 4-lane road, up in a car. We got the owner to come out and pop the hood, grabbed kitten 1.

Another hour of looking for kitten 2, and scooter neighbor comes and says a lady further up the street and closer to the busy road found her in her bushes and has her in a carrier. I come get kitten 2, put her with kitten 1.

Now, time for mama, cuz they were still nursing. Enter live trap that was used earlier in the day to catch dad.

Ohhh, this cat. She's too smart for this trap. We put her bebbies in the carrier at the back end of the trap with a towel over it and the trap, and only ONCE she went in just with her front half, then skedaddled.

I went and got my big net on a stick I had previously bought to catch a stringfoot pigeon, and the next time she stuck her head in, SWOOP with the net over her butt, forcing her to run in.

When I tell you that this girl turned into a tasmanian devil, that is no exaggeration. The trap was rocking and jumping.

I got them both up to my room, let them out, and mama was jumping up the glass of the window, pawing at it, yowling, so I covered it with thick brown paper and duct tape, which did help a bit. She calmed down a bit after I fed her, but that paper only lasted about another few days (meanwhile I was duct taping over holes in it) before she ripped it off.

By then, she had calmed down to just laying on the ledge of the window, but got VERY skittish if I got even within 10 feet.

About a week after bringing them in, mom, dad (who was kept separate cuz she could have gotten preggers again), and bebbies all got spayed/neutered/vaxxed/checked over, and bebbies went to foster with my now-friend across the street, warmed up quickly, and got adopted together right at Christmas. Dad, who was the friendliest but still fearful, went into foster, got doted on, and adopted into a home with other kitty friends.

MEANWHILE... --longest sigh ever-- 😮‍💨😓

Lila lived in a 3-storey kitty condo in my room that was basically a Hilton. Cushy blanket bed, toys, litter box, treats... Every night from about 11pm to 4am, she would meow incessantly at the top of her lungs, whether I was in the room or not. I ended up having to sleep downstairs for weeks, and even then, with my room door closed, she was loud. It was full-blown sleep deprivation and I eventually thought I was going to have to put her back outside, but there are busy streets that people race down on 3 sides of me, and coyotes, and freezing temps in the winter, and she has no colony. It was only ever just her and dad, and she was too feral to get adopted with him.

Now that she wasn't nursing, I could occasionally give her gabapentin to ease the anxiety and let her rest.

I contacted several farm rescues and cat rescues, but no one could take her, no one had room, etc.

Over the next couple months, I started with petting her with a 3-foot long stick toy (and even that at first was very sketchy), then a paint sponge on a 6-inch stick (for a few seconds before she'd lash out), then a cat brush for a few seconds, then a minute... she finally started veeeeeery tentatively taking treats from my hand, sniffing my fingers, then one day, she let me touch her back and then went O.O

Since then, it's been a lot of beautiful 'firsts', with lots of seesawing of fear, then trust, then unsureness, then calm and trust again, punctuated with lots of sudden -- very unexpected -- bloody scratches.

(I've done cat rescue for a long time, know how to read body language, don't push, but she'd be enjoying something then suddenly go "F U!" ~thwap~**)

First time she slow-blinked at me, first time she rolled over on her back in her condo, first time she let me actually pet her, first time she came out of her condo while I just read a book in my room, first time she let me scratch her, first time she ventured downstairs, first time she met a scratching post and used it, first time she slept on my bed, first time she sniffed noses with me, first time she was brave enough to sit on my lap, first time she jumped on the couch....

Next month will be a year since I brought her in. Back then, she was 10 months old with her second litter -- the first was just 2 stillborn because she was too little, only about 6 months old -- which she lost 2 out of 4 of.

Now, she's a confident, crazy goober that zooms and meeps and chirps and talks to me constantly, flops against my head on my pillow, follows me everywhere (seriously, even upstairs for 10 seconds and then back down and guards me while I'm in the shower), dolphin leaps up on her hind legs when I reach down to pet her, rubs her face on my face, and lets me kiss her all over. She loves being scratched all over and loves being a bongo drum.

I'm 100% sure she's a Russian Blue bengal mix to some degree (I used to have 2 RBs, volunteered in cat rescue for years, have been owned by cats all my life). In the sun, she has ghost rosettes all over her you can see, off the charts energy and prey drive, won't stop making noises like R2D2, downy dandelion fluff under-fur and purple paw pads, and she's my girl.

There was nowhere else for her but with me, and my 2 other cats that she's ahem learning not to torment and how to have manners with 🙄, having the kittenhood she should have had (and being a hilarious 2x-speed terror in the process), the Universe has spoken, and so I dutifully obey. 🫡 All she needed was time, safety, consistency, patience, and love.

He was all by his lonesome, no siblings or mama in sight, in a car engine. Waited for mama to potentially come get him, but nope. 8 weeks and too skinny.

Lil sir got a bath, flea meds (after weighing him), foods, vaccines, and a big fluffy bed all his own.