Paula

 

Paula  (MW)

Paula is one of two long-term residents of the Pen 2 cabin;  a slim little calico who can usually be found in one of the upper-level beds.  She arrived with us in 2016, part of a clear-out from the City Shelter of the cats that were considered likely to be unadoptable for one reason or another. They were introduced in a series of three blogs in 2017: the blacks & black/whites, the tabbies, and the calico/tortie/orange cats.

Watching a worm!  (MW)

All were already adults when they arrived, and many of them have passed in the last nine years: tabbies Calvin, Chase and Zivko, lookalikes Kevin & Palma, Tubby, Salina and others. Others have relocated:  Celeste (watch for her upcoming blog) and Sophie the diva; Booty is either tucked in the TeaRoom or bossing Ringo around; peach-coloured Taffy is snug in the DoubleWide.

Paula's home, the Pen 2 cabin   (MW)

Whether indoors or outside, Paula prefers to stay in her own space – a preference she shares with tortie Barbie, on a lower shelf. Both ladies are now seniors, and their original shyness has given way to a tolerance for humans that becomes enthusiasm when we come bearing gifts.

Paula, with her tabby brothers Chase & Calvin  (KN)

When I clean in the back pens on Fridays, pen 2 is my third stop, and the cats have learned that business is the first order of the day – scoop the litter-boxes, check the bedding and shake it out where needed, sweep the floor, refill the bowls.  Delayed gratification is not their favourite thing, though, and there’s some pretty impatient pacing going on before I’m done. Paula and Barbie are always in place – Paula on “her” top shelf, and Barbie snugly in a box one level down.  Company for Paula will vary; for years it was shy Pavel; more recently Chumley has deserted Pen 1, and his brother Siskel, to move in with her.  Sweet tabby Cadbury often shares space; he is less outgoing than his late brother Skittles, but when you catch him in the right mood, he enjoys attention.

Paula knows how to pose!  (MW)

Chicken is definitely the tidbit of choice for Paula, and she is quick to claim her share, especially with all the local interlopers moving in on Pen 2 – Pumpkin, Odin, Cornelius and their buddies all know that I carry handouts.  Cadbury is not a chicken fan, and he gets a few Temptations – which are quickly stolen by Paula if she gets a chance.

Paula  (BC)

On her shelf inside the cabin, Paula is the miniature queen; in the last couple of years she has been venturing out with increasing confidence, but also with a certain lack of tolerance for other cats.  When there is a courtyard gathering of cats looking for handouts, it is noticeable that they leave a clear space around Paula, and that she is not slow to smack an encroaching paw when it comes too close to a tidbit to which she is laying claim.  

Lounging outside - but almost always solo   (MW)

A warning growl is enough to have most of the hopefuls backing off. It’s clear that indoors, where she feels secure, she can be sweet and snuggly with her cabin-mates, but in a more open arena, she is more defensive, and every good former feral knows that looking scary is the best defence.  She’s small, but everything about her says to the other cats, “Don’t mess with me!”

Blog by Brigid Coult

Photos by Brigid Coult, Karen Nicholson, Michele Wright

Cypress

Cypress  (KN)

Cypress came into our care in 2018; he’s probably around ten years old.  As an FIV+ cat, he is a resident of the New Aids pen.  Because FIV is transmitted though bite wounds, there will often be multiple cats in a colony that carry it, and we have received several FIV+ cats from the various mid-Island rescues: in the same year Cypress arrived, we took in Francis, Drake and Jerry (the latter now living in the Val Jones area), Domino and Amaretto a couple of years later, and Marble and her sons more recently.

Early days: stay away!  (KN)

In his early days, Cypress did not approve of the relocation – he was a very angry feral, preferring to do his go-away hissing from the cage-tops or from the back pens where the shy cats hang out. His tattered ears indicated that he was a likely scrapper, and he was certainly not afraid to lash out at any humans that ventured a hand too close.

Cypress with his (now departed) buddies,
Francis (back) & Malcolm (front)  (KN)

He may not have been human-friendly, but he was, and is, very cat-social.  He could often be found in company with handsome Francis (who hated us just as much, in the early days!) and with little Tiberius, who progressed to accepting tidbits with great enthusiasm.   Some cats enjoy each other’s company and others just tolerate it;  Cypress really liked his feline friends, and made sure he was in integral part of the cage-top cuddle-puddles.

Rocket with Cypress  (LBF)

Many cats who carry the FIV retrovirus show no obvious signs of it, and will live healthy lives as long as any other cat. Where we do occasionally see symptoms is with the mouth: dental problems, gum disease, mouth ulcers.  Cypress is one of the cats for whom stomatitis eventually necessitated all his teeth being removed. Sometimes that enforced time in a cage with more human attention flips a switch for them;  certainly Cypress is now a changed cat. 

Relaxing in the garden (BH)

These days he spends more time interacting with the New Aids volunteers and the Kitty Comforters;  if there is a lap available, he is ready to be pushy in getting to it.  That was often difficult with Hank and Trooper around; now the two of them have been adopted, Cypress is very happy to be getting more attention.  He does get a bit over-stimulated sometimes, and the petting hand needs to be ready to suspend action; he may not have any teeth, but his paw is fast, and his claws are sharp!

Snuggles with Amaretto  (MS)

He may love humans more than he used to do, but he doesn’t love other cats less – he can still be found snuggling happily with his buddies, and in particular with little Amaretto, who is his best girlfriend (not that he has much choice, since Dahlia doesn’t like anyone, and Marble only has time for her sons!). With the recent cold weather, he has stayed in the warmth of the main cabin, but he’ll probably be off to the back pens soon to enjoy visiting with the shyer boys again.

Blog by Brigid Coult

Photos by Lisa Brill-Friesen, Brielle Hitchison, Karen Nicholson, Molly Sjerdal 

Mr Love-Bug

 

A handsome senior!  (KN)

I don’t think there’s anyone who works in the Connor building who doesn’t love our sweet Vesper.

Vesper with his beloved Fable  (MW)

This handsome tuxedo gentleman – now about 15 years old – came to us in 2017 in company with his “brother” Fable, a Siamese.  The two of them were surrendered to us for “inappropriate urination”, but we never had any clear evidence of it, and came to the conclusion that it was probably a stress-peeing situation in the home.  They were devoted to each other; both would do little solo outings into the Front Courtyard but they always returned to cuddle together.

Vesper solo  (MW)

Fable suddenly passed in March of 2021, and poor Vesper was alone.

Kiwi with Vesper  (DW)

In 2019 we had taken in a group of cats from an Alberta shelter that was closing. Among them was a trio of sweet semi-feral calicos – two of them (Melon and Honeydew) with classic white-fur and calico markings, and one (Kiwi) with much more black in her calico colouring.  The three were wary of human contact – something that improved over their years with us – but they enjoyed the company of other cats. 

Did someone say chicken?  (JS)

After Fable passed, Kiwi became Vesper’s comforter, and they could often be found curled up together on a shelf in the Connor building, or flirting from one shelf to another.  But Kiwi passed suddenly from FIP (Feline Infectious Peritonitis) in December 2023 – she was only 6 – and Vesper was alone again.

Can I room with you?   (BC)

This time, however, it wasn’t a long transition.  Tabby Dominique had obviously been keeping her eyes on the handsome man, and she was quick to move in and fill the space in his bed. Dominique had come to us through a local trapping operation in the summer of 2021; she was found to be pregnant and went into fosterage to have her kittens. The kittens were socialized and taken for adoption, but Dominique’s feral roots were a little too strong, and it was decided the Sanctuary was the best place for her. She seemed largely to ignore her fellow-trappees – Chai, Speckle and Kahlua – and made herself comfortable in the Connor, where she encountered Vesper and Kiwi. The two of them were well-bonded, but occasionally we would find them snuggled up together, with Dominique keeping a careful eye on them.

He's all mine!   (BC)

Vesper & Dominique enjoying the winter sunshine  (MS)

With Kiwi’s sudden passing, Dominique was there to comfort and do her own snuggling with the widower. Cats do grieve when they have close bonds that are cut off by death – it’s obvious that Celine is still missing her beloved Hope – and Vesper was certainly in need of comfort. What nobody had expected was the involvement of a “younger woman”.  

Butterfinger  (AG)

Butterfinger had arrived in the summer of 2023, originally with the name of Butterflower – she was another of our transfers from Sammy’s Forgotten Felines in Kamloops. Like Kiwi, she was a dark calico, almost a tortie; unlike the dainty Kiwi, she was, quite frankly, a bit of a mess, soiling her bedding (she's a manx), kicking her litter around (hence the name change), and being very wary with us.  She is still pretty young – not much more than 2 years old.  

Butterfinger and Vesper  (BC)

Once out of her cage, she relaxed and became more comfortable with her surroundings, establishing herself as a champion at wand-play with the other three calicos.  When Kiwi passed and Dominique moved in, Butterfinger kept an eye open, and established herself in the same complex of shelves with the other two. Any time Dominique wasn’t around, Butterfinger would move in; Vesper was obviously flattered by the attention of another pretty girl, and before long, it was anybody’s guess who would be snuggled with him.

The ménage à trois:
Dominique, Vesper & Butterfinger   (BC)

The three of them have a fairly well-established ménage à trois now – it’s rare that you will find all three together, but usually one of them will be with Vesper and the other will be close by. There are no cat-fights;  warmth and snuggles are the important thing. The only thing perhaps a little more important to Vesper is chicken; he will edge out of the snuggle, stand on the edge of the shelf and shout until the tidbit is delivered.  We think that he’s a bit deaf and can’t hear how loud he is. It doesn’t seem to bother “his” girls – the attention of a dashing older gentleman in a tuxedo is worth the odd inconvenience to them!

Blog by Brigid Coult

Photos by Brigid Coult, Akira Graham, Karen Nicholson,
Justin Saint, Molly Sjerdal, Michele Wright

A Cat Who Walks By Herself

Yma  (KN)

Yma came into our care almost nine years ago – one of a colony of cats Stephanie trapped at a nearby composting facility. Some of them may have been dumped cats;  others were born wild.  Life for ferals is often short and terrifying – this site was also a hunting ground for hawks, eagles and coyotes (there were a LOT of rats!) - and we tried to rescue as many as possible.  Many of the cats we brought in were dubbed “the cow cats” for their black-and-white Friesian patterns, though there were also tabbies like pretty Merran.

In her favourite place, alone, in the gardens  (BC)

Stephanie and her helpers made regular visits, setting traps and waiting patiently. We knew that it was not possible to rescue them all, and she had identified at least one big tomcat, who she named Pavarotti, who was too wily to venture into a trap, even with the tastiest food to bait it.  But over the course of months, cats made the protesting journey from the feral life to life with RAPS. I was with Stephanie when one of the last of these was trapped, and was given the privilege of naming her: since Pavarotti was likely her sire, I named her for Yma Sumac, the extraordinary soprano of the ‘50s

Early days: Yma in hiding  (KN)

The youngest cats trapped, of course, went to fosterage and eventual adoption. Stephanie still has one of those cats: Hammy (Hamish) - one of Hillie's kittens - still has the former feral’s wariness, and is a one-woman cat, trusting Stephanie alone. The cats that came to live at the Sanctuary were split between the SingleWide and the Back Courtyard. Mya and Kirstie settled to the comfy life in the SingleWide – so comfortable that they both became roly-poly cats, with all the snacking that was available. Luckily, they had also tamed to the point where they were both able to go to the homes of experienced cat-people who could put them on a measured diet, and they’re both doing well. 

Kirstie & Mya remain happy indoor cats (LBF)

In the Back Courtyard Hillie and Yma ignored one another – their similarity meant that there was probably a strong genetic link, but they were trapped at different times, and there was no mutual recognition. Hillie made a breakthrough with us, and realized that people were not so bad! - Yma relocated herself from the DW deck to the outdoor life, and settled in Pen 2, preferring to keep her distance.  In all the time she has been with us, she has elected to avoid humans at all costs. She was one of the cats who preferred to climb the tree in the back courtyard, and continued that habit until we finally extended the netting to prevent access to the branches and a possible escape route. 

When she first discovered the gardens,
Yma liked best to hide up in the tree  (MW)

Through much of the year she would base herself in one of the straw-lined kennels around the perimeter, actually going into the cabin only when the weather made it really necessary;  nowadays she usually sleeps in the cabin, but a sudden human visitor will make her explode out through the cat-door. I try to remember to speak as I approach, to give her some warning.  

You can look, but not touch!   (KN)

Unfortunately she has that curse of white cats – ears that are sensitive to sunshine, and that develop skin cancers. We have had several cats like her who have had cancerous ear-tips nipped off to prevent further growth. But going in for even minor surgery means netting and caging her, and is stressful – two steps back, behaviourally, in order to be one step forward, health-wise.

Ears now rounded, rather than pointed  (KN)

So, so slowly, she is adjusting to us. When she is sitting quietly, it is sometimes possible to approach her, even to sit with her; a gentle voice is accepted, but any sudden movement, and she’s gone.  She will occasionally hover at the cabin door when I’m cleaning, but she shows no inclination to come closer or to accept tidbits. She has some favourite perches around the edges of Pen 2, and is ready to sit there peacefully even when visitors are around; she obviously knows that the ropes marking access limits are there to protect her.  She’s not a cat-social girl, like Tofino, in last week’s blog; mostly, when you see Yma, she will be alone. Behind the cabin doors, who knows? – but in the gardens, she’s a lonely figure – the other cats don’t bother her, and she rarely approaches them.

Watching the visitors from a safe distance  (MW)

I sometimes label our loners as Garbo cats – but in many cases, their alone-ness comes from their active dislike of other cats, and we need to encourage that separation in order to keep the peace.  Yma simply chooses to be alone.  Greta Garbo would approve of her.

Blog by Brigid Coult

Photos by Lisa Brill-Friesen, Brigid Coult,
Karen Nicholson, Michele Wright