Spring Losses

Celeste (MK)

We usually talk of our 400+ cats at the Sanctuary (plus all the ones in fosterage and at the Adoption Centre) but those numbers are always changing. Older cats pass, health conditions deteriorate, new cats arrive from other shelters or from trapping – the Sanctuary population is continually fluctuating. You would think that the weather would be a factor; that cold, wet weather or scorching summer days would bring more cats to crisis point – but all too often it seems that we have a surge of losses at a time when we’re seeing new life all around.

Drake (KC)

Back in 2021, I remember a month in which we lost a whole bunch of our beloved friends: Puffin, Skittles, Shadrack, Fable, Ninja and half a dozen more – we dreaded arriving and checking the calendar, only to see that someone else had passed. Five years later, and we’re having a similar spring. Now that I’m part of the Kitty Comforter team, we are warned of losses with a little email tribute from coordinator Anne, often accompanied by a photo of the cat in question.

Taffy (MW)

Mid-March to mid-April has seen the passing of more than twelve cats. Occasionally it comes out of the blue; sometimes it’s a cat that the med-staff have been watching; in some cases we know it’s coming, and the cat has been with us for comfort care until they know it’s time.

Louie, the head-bonk boy (KN)

The first two were from New Aids. FIV+ cats aren’t inherently “sick”, but their compromised immune systems do make it harder for them to fight off anything that’s going on. Shy hissy Drake had been unwell for some time; he roomed with handsome Boston, and would occasionally allow petting when in company with his buddy. A week later we lost Louie suddenly; the vets think he threw an embolism, and we found him unable to use his back legs. He was another shy boy who would duck his head to receive and give head-bops; in the last year he had become more confident about being around people and cats. I had the privilege of being with him for his crossing.

Booty - member of the boys' club  (MW)

The following weekend saw the passing of two of our older cats. Booty had been with us nearly ten years and we think he was around 16 years old; he arrived with a group of cats from the No 5 Rd Shelter who had been considered unadoptable. Booty liked to live in the Tea-Room and was very social with people. At the opposite end of the spectrum was Smithy who preferred to swear at us – though he would also accept treats. He was more than 18 when he passed, and a particular favourite of Karen’s; “tame” was not in his repertoire with most humans, but he had lots of cat friends.

Hissy Smithy - loving only with other cats  (KN)

Lindor’s passing was a surprise to many, though the med staff knew that he was not in great shape. Lindor was a tubby, floofy boy who never saw a treat he didn’t love, and raided the table at coffee-time. He’d recently gone in for tests, and was shaved while they had him sedated; he was one of very few cats who seemed to like wearing a sweater. His appetite had increased while his weight went down, and it’s likely he had a tumour.

Lindor exerting mind-control:
"You will give me that treat NOW!"  (KN)

We all knew about Jade’s skin cancer on her nose, though it didn’t seem to bother her. Jade was one of the collared “reactive” cats, but much calmer in the last year or so, and she was frequently one of the cats waiting at the gate to greet visitors. Med-staff monitored her carefully, and she was released when she started to feel uncomfortable. Better a day too soon than a day too late...

Jade playing cute - but we always remembered the collar...  (KN)

The next to pass was a quiet cat who had a fan-club. Sweet Loki (DoubleWide and deck) had a rough coat and twisted whiskers. He had the ability to produce an amazing amount of pee - mostly outside the litter-box, which is why he had come to us originally.  The boy who loved to play had become an old man who was happier sleeping and sometimes had to be coaxed to eat. He will be especially missed by Kitty Comforter Karrie.

Shy sweet Loki, with his twisty eyebrows  (JC)

His passing on March 1 marked the beginning of a brutal week for the med-staff, who are always the ones most impacted when we lose a cat. In every case, the cat is taken to the hospital by someone they know and love, and that person stays through to the end. On March 2 both Celeste and Honeydew were helped to pass. Celeste was our beloved receptionist for Back Courtyard visitors, and missed perfection only because of her lack of litterbox discipline. What we thought was an eye infection turned out to be a tumour. She was followed across the Bridge by Honeydew, one of the calico sisters from the Front Courtyard – only her sister Melon is left.

Honeydew (MW)

In subsequent days we lost Summit, (one of the Commuter Cats) and River, Sakura (from the Adoption Centre), sweet Taffy (like Celeste, one of the former Pen 2 cats) and then Kin. We don’t know whether Kin was a feral, or just a very scared stray; he lived on the DW Deck for much of his time with us, generally hiding out under something. The Kitty Comforters – particularly Brad – worked hard on coaxing him into trusting us a bit better, but life was scary for Kin. When the DoubleWide renovations began, and Kin needed caging for medical care, he was brought over to the Newcomers area, which is quieter than the Deck had become. There, Kin found he could stay just out of reach, but was still able to access a tube of Churu at arms-length. He had a faithful team of visitors, and once his cage was opened, he opted to remain there, and share it with Careen.

Kin, braving the great outdoors  (KN)

A few days of respite, and then sweet Vesper passed on Wednesday. Vesper had arrived in the winter of 2017 with his bonded buddy Fable. When we lost Fable five years ago, Vesper showed himself to be one of those guys who needed a Relationship, and moved in with dark calico Kiwi, and then when she passed two years later, with tabby Dominique and calico Butterfinger (possibly on the principle of “one is fun, so two should be better!”). In his last years, Vesper became very vocal, probably because he became deaf and couldn’t hear himself – he was quick to spot treats being passed out, and noisy in his insistence that he wanted some too!

Vesper (KN)

We hoped that would be the end for a while, but Sunday brought two more losses: Bronx, one of the Newton cats that have been under medical care for upper respiratory conditions, and our beloved Chance, one of the New Aids cats.  Chance changed slowly from a scared feral three years ago into a lap-loving cuddle monster who loved the humans who tended New Aids. He had gone downhill quite rapidly in the last week, and as so many sick cats do, preferred to be in hiding in his last days - volunteer Marty said his farewells to Chance under the chair where he had hidden as a new cat with us.

Chance in his safe space  (BC)

They have been much loved - and they leave big spaces in our hearts when they pass. But each passing means we have space for another cat – feral, stray, problem pet, or cat in need of medical care and love. And much as we miss them, we still have lots of love in our hearts for the new ones who come to the Sanctuary. 

Blog by Brigid Coult

Photos by Jackie Chapple, Katy Cobb,

Brigid Coult, Mike Kossey, Karen Nicholson, Michele Wright

Louie

Louie  (KN)

When the Sanctuary was established, it was common practice for rescues everywhere to discover that a cat they had taken in might prove via blood tests to be FIV+ or FeLV+, and the cat would be quietly euthanized because everyone knew that neither virus could be cured – there were vaccines to protect cats, but once infected, that was it. RAPS was founded as a no-kill rescue, and cats coming to us with FIV or leukemia were treated exactly like all our other cats – loved and protected, but just in separate areas, to protect further transmission.

Starting to be inquisitive  (KC)

In the subsequent thirty years, we have learned much about these viruses, and their effect on the cats we love. The FIV retrovirus is only transmitted by cat-to-cat bites, or in utero, and once cats are neutered, aggression is greatly reduced. We know that FIV+ and FIV- cats can live together peaceably, and that adoption is possible. We know that calling them the AIDS cats is actually a misnomer – FIV+ means that they carry the potential for AIDS, which in many cases never really shows up. We do prefer to continue to keep them together; it helps the med-staff keep aware of watching for health issues, which, with a reduced immune system, can prove to be a problem. But many of our FIV+ cats will live lives that are as long as the other Sanctuary cats. Many of our weekend visitors are in fact surprised to see this bunch of healthy cats, several of whom have gone to loving homes in the course of the last year or two. But there are a few, who, when you look a little closer, show signs of health issues that we need to stay on top of.  

Hiding in a kennel   (KN)

Louie came to us in early 2020 as a very scared feral; one of a number of FIV+ cats that came to us from CatSpan Rescue, mid-Island. Several rescues on the Island are doing excellent work, but you can’t TNR (trap/neuter/release) an FIV+ cat; if we stand any chance of reducing the virus, those cats can’t be allowed to roam freely. Because we have the facilities to care for them, many of the rescues will send their FIV+ ferals to us. 

Louie with his friend Gizzard (BH)

Following his initial cage-time, Louie was one of the cats that vanished into the back area of the pen – the Prince of Wales pen, and the unnamed one beyond it. He could frequently be found hiding behind the hut, often in company with other ferals. He was a battered-looking boy, one who’d obviously lived rough, and he was very nervous around us. Domino, who arrived at the same time, was also feral, but had much more confidence, and soon adjusted to the new situation. Louie preferred to hold to his feral habits; any approach from us, and he would back away hastily. Any cat can have the genetic mutation that affects tail length without being officially a Manx cat; Louie has the little stub of tail that makes him closer to a bobtail.

In the cabin, coming for pets  (BC)

For the greater number of FIV+ cats, there is no obvious sign of the virus. What we do see occasionally is mouth problems (ulcers and stomatitis), sometimes diarrhea, and skin problems. Louie has the latter: rough fur, some bald patches, and an allergy to flea medications. His difficulties meant that he had the attention of the med-staff, and he came to realise that we meant him no harm. Gradually the volunteers working in the back of the New Aids pen found that he was allowing us to approach, and sitting on the step of the Prince of Wales pen, we would find that he was not only approaching us, but ducking his head to offer strong head-bumps. Petting... not so much, but he loved the head bunting.

The love of a feral  (BC)

Five years after his arrival, Louie is a different cat. Not physically – he retains his battered appearance, and his rough coat. But he explores the full range of the New Aids pen now – I found him in the main cabin this evening, and sat close enough to the floor that he could approach for head-bumps and tidbits.  He is a little wary of the more assertive cats; Cypress and Obelix and Domino are quick to push him aside when food is offered. He can be found in company with some of the other shy cats, and though he will probably never be a lap-cat, he will sit beside me if there are no other pushy cats around. He’s not a candidate for adoption – but that’s why we are a Sanctuary; he has safety as long as he’s in our care.

Blog by Brigid Coult

Photos by Katy Cobb, Brigid Coult, Brielle Hutchison, Karen Nicholson