Vonda & Vinnie

Vonda (KN)

There are many rescues across the province who know that when they have a feral cat problem, RAPS is a place they can turn to for support. This is particularly true in a situation involving FIV cats; with other cats it is possible to TNR (Trap, Neuter and Return) the colony, and then maintain it while it no longer increases. But when FIV is present, those cats should not be in a situation in which there is any risk of continuing to spread the virus, and many of them will end up at the Sanctuary.

Vinnie in the back cabin (KN)

One of the rescues we have strong ties with is Sammy’s Forgotten Felines, in Kamloops. The biggest group we had from them was a large farm colony in 2021, many of them orange, and flourishing in our care. I blogged about them last summer in a four-part series featuring The Bonded Ones, Lots of Orange, Blondes Have More Fun, and No Oranges Here. We tend to talk about them as “The Kamloops Cats”, but we’ve had many more from Sammy’s: Len, Lloyd and Crinkle, now passed, as well as Ariel and Aspen, Deelia, Petunia, Vonda and Vinnie.

Vonda (KN)

Vonda was the first to arrive, with Petunia and Spike – the latter was quickly adopted, and Vonda and Petunia went into fosterage to have their kittens. Vonda’s kittens were named Kilkenny, Donegal, Galway and Dublin; all were initially adopted, but Kilkenny was returned to our care with urinary and gastric problems (and passed last fall). It was thought that her issues were probably a result of inbreeding, and when the last cats from the colony were trapped – including Vinnie – the conclusion was that he was probably the baby-daddy, and may actually have sired the other young adults as well. In a colony, the dominant tomcat will often leave his strong genetic imprint; fertile females may be mated by more than one tom, but the strongest sperm will get through! Strong genes are good; however, too much inbreeding increases the chances of genetic problems as well.

Vonda (BC)

Vonda is a front courtyard cat, and usually hides out in the Old Rabbit Area, and sometimes in the Yellow Shed. She is very shy around people and tends to appear early morning and late evening, like many feral cats – the typical crepuscular/twilight pattern that suits creatures who are both hunter and potential prey. Her ears have a flattened Scottish Fold appearance rather than the crumpled haematoma ear that we see more often. We hope she isn’t a true Scottish Fold, because the genetic markers also include hearing problems, polycystic kidney disease and various forms of arthritis, and the formal breeding of Folds is now discouraged (and actively banned in many places).

Vinnie with his buddy Charlie  (BC)

When daddy/baby-daddy Vinnie arrived, somewhat later than Vonda, it was to a place in New Aids, as an FIV+ cat.  He initially established himself in the more distant of the two Prince of Wales cabins, and preferred not to interact much with people.  Over the time with us, he has made friends with the other cats in the area, allowed contact with volunteers and visitors, and has now accepted a role as a lap-cat. Vinnie is a Big Boy, and the owner of the lap needs to be ready for the weight – and for the mountaineering that gets him up there!

Happy lap - blissful smile

Vinnie’s favourite buddy is Charlie (another Big Boy), and the two of them can often be found sunning themselves on the cabin porch, or on adjacent chairs in the PoW courtyard- volunteer Meaghan calls it Preparing for Chonk Boy Summer. We’re going to have to keep an eye on that boy – white cats and sunshine are not always a good combination, and cats are not fans of sun-hats! Perhaps we make life a little too easy for them – Vinnie has gone from fighting to keep his place as Top Cat and hunting for his own dinner to a luxurious lifestyle with comfy beds, clean litterboxes and food delivered to the door. I’m sure he feels he’s earned his retirement!

Charlie & Vinnie soaking up the sun  (BC)

Blog by Brigid Coult

Photos by Brigid Coult & Karen Nicholson

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

Cadbury Revisited

Cadbury (KN)

Cadbury came to us in the summer of 2017 as one of a group we came to know as “The Candy Cats” – a colony of six that came from Coquitlam, and were so scared that they excavated their way under the cabin in Pen 6 in order to hide.  Nine years on, and Cadbury is still scared and wary – at least until he knows you.

Cat-nap  (KN)

His big brother Skittles constituted himself as my lap-cat; it began with cupboard love (he was a chicken addict) and turned into a love for cuddles. We lost him in 2021 during a brutal couple of weeks when we lost 11 beloved cats to a variety of conditions. Little sister SweetTart showed a preference for the cats in neighboring pen 7, and though the originals she loved have crossed the bridge, she still lives there.  The other three – Hershey and Butterscotch (F) and Purdy (M) have all remained resolutely feral.

With his Pen 3 buddy, Cornelius  (LBF)

Cadbury was initally very close with Skittles, but while the other Candy Cats made their home around Pen 8 and Waldi’s hut, Cadbury took himself off to the other end of the Back Courtyard, and settled himself in Pen 3. There, he shares space with the colony of “teens” who arrived from a Calgary hoarding situation in 2021. He beds down with them in the cabin when it’s cold, but spends quite a bit of time outside on his own. Interestingly enough, he doesn’t seem to interact at all with the colony of College cats, who are also very shy, but very bonded.

Cadbury the loner  (MW)

For a shy cat, Cadbury does very well with visitors at the weekend. He will initially sit a little distance away, but when approached gently and with the right bribery, he will allow contact and some gentle petting, He has his favourite people – both visitors and volunteers – and he is one of the few cats that prefers dry treats to chicken tidbits.

A big "down cat" stretch  (KN)

There has been some discussion around possible adoption, but a recent stay in a DoubleWide cage for treatment of an upper respiratory infection (those bugs are going around!) has confirmed that anything outside his usual surroundings is too scary for him to think about; he spent most of the cage-time pancaked to the floor, as invisible as he could manage.  Once recovered, he was so be so glad to be returning to his friends in Pen 3.

Perched outside Pen 3 cabin (KN)

I’ve said elsewhere that I have a weakness for tabby boys, but I think that Cadbury is one of the most beautiful tabbies we have – so today this is less a blog, and more the opportunity to share from a gallery of lovely Cadbury pics!

Blog by Brigid Coult

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

Who Am I, and Why am I Here?

Max-Theodore  (MK)

Last summer we had a big orange cat come to the Adoption Centre through a connection from a past staff member – his owner had died, and the cat, who had been an indoor/outdoor pet, needed somewhere safe to go.  He came to us with the name of Max.  We’ve had four previous feline Maxes, and now we have a human Max on staff, and a volunteer Max as well, so the big boy was renamed Theodore (though sometimes referred to as Maxodore).

(MK)

When he arrived he was badly matted, and needed a serious lion-cut shave-job;  for the first part of his stay at the AC the big naked boy was often seen lounging around in the windows. We hoped that someone would adopt him from there, but he was not a happy camper – he was stressed by all the changes in his life, and by all the other cats around the Adoption Centre in the summer, and sadly, he decided to express his feelings in urine and was relocated to the Sanctuary.

(KN)

This move necessitated another cage-stay, much to his disgust – it was at least one of the big cages in the Connor building, and Kitty Comforters and volunteers could sit with Max/Theodore, and give him some company. He’s a cat who doesn’t take to just anyone; he’s happier with people than with other cats, but he tends to be aloof, and we work on his agenda, not ours. He is now out and about; we will sometimes find him around the SingleWide porch, or sitting in the sun, but he seems to base himself on the Connor cage-tops when he wants to get away.

(BC)

His naming is still iffy; having been released into the front Courtyard, he is now encountering another Theodore – one who is part of a feral trio who hang out around the Old Rabbit Area.  Some of the Kitty Comforters continue to call him Max – it’s the name he’s familiar with, after all, and he’s obviously unhappy enough with his surroundings that making him answer to an unfamiliar sound would seem to compound his sense of being out of focus.

(BC)

He reminds me very much of fellow-orange Sam, who came to us in similar circumstances, tolerated humans, hated cats, and was then adopted by someone who wanted a cat who wanted to live alone. Like Sam, Max/Theodore can be reactive around other cats, but very sweet with humans; a couple of visitors told me last week that they’d had a lovely quiet time sitting with him. 

Enjoying the evening sun from his bed near the Single-Wide (BC)

I suspect that his peeing is less a bad habit and more a need to cancel other cat-smells; he might do very well in a home where the only smell is his own, and where he has time to establish his own territory without urine coming into it. Some of the cats that come to us with a "pee-er" label just like to pee (like Ollie), but others have become so because of environmental or family stresses, and the effect of quietness, no other cats, and perhaps a pheromone diffuser, can ease those stresses.

"I don't share!"  (BC)

Max-Theodore is a quiet boy with a sense of dignity, and a clear personal boundary that does not welcome other cats, but enjoys gentle human attention that does not require him to perform. He’s not likely to be a lap-cat initially, but I could see him as a gentle companion. If you know anyone who might welcome the company of this handsome gentleman, please contact the Adoption Centre and request an introductory date!

Blog by Brigid Coult

Photos by Brigid Coult, Mike Kossey, Karen Nicholson

Stevie

Stevie (BC)

For a while in February there was a draped cage in the Connor House with a warning notice that the cat inside was aggressive and reactive. Staff and experienced volunteers have learned to work around cats like this; a warning like that means that newer volunteers can miss the cage if they’re nervous and ask a staff person to do it.

Fur growing back round his injury  (BC)

Stevie had come to us in January. He had been hanging out in a Steveston back yard for some time, and was reported with a tail injury. He was a big unneutered tomcat with a chunky build and chubby cheeks, and on the basis of feral behaviour, he was trapped and scooped up by RAPS rather than the SPCA. We don’t know how he got himself into trouble – whether a bite or something else – but once safely trapped, the hospital took care of both his neuter surgery and the amputation of most of his tail before he came to us.

Slightly wary...  (CM)

Cats are always caged for the first part of their time with us;  it gives them time to recover from any surgery and to get used to the presence of other cats in the vicinity – though via smell and sound, rather than direct contact. The cage is initially draped so that visuals are limited; when the outer drape is removed, the inner drape still gives the caged cat a place to hide. Sometimes ferals will hide for the entire time of their cage-stay, and on release they quickly find another place where they can be out of sight.  Stevie began on the upper shelf, out of reach, but wanting to see what was going on rather than hiding from possible danger. Gradually he began using the main space;  he was actually easy enough to tend since he would retreat to the shelf when someone came to scoop his box and clean his cage. He was wary, but didn’t have the look of a feral cat – more the “I’m not sure I can trust you, but let’s see...” look.

Conversations with Celine   (CM)

He began to allow contact from the Kitty Comforters and we discovered that much of his “aggression” was actually about withdrawal – he liked petting, and the danger point was when the caressing hand was withdrawn – Stevie would lash out to say “How dare you stop!”  Once his cage was opened he remained in place – he could be coaxed into coming down, but was quick to return to his safe space. 

Loves wand-play!  (CM)

He seems to be cat-friendly; Celine regularly shares his cage, and he exchanges nose-bumps with Vesper, who lives on the adjacent shelf and loves everyone. His amputated tail distinguishes him from all the other tabbies – though he particularly reminds me of Spud, who is another large-headed boy with cattitude.

Lap-sitting with Courtney  (BC)

He will allow himself to be scooped up for some lap-time, and is quite relaxed about the whole process; when he’s had enough he calmly gets down, and scrambles back into his cage. He already has a fan-club – Courtney, who does the Connor on Monday evenings, has constituted herself its president, and adores him. He is obviously most comfortable in his own space and has not done more than explore the Connor building a little – I would guess that when he ventures outside he will become very popular, and may well make it onto the Adoptable list.  It’s pretty obvious that this sweet boy must have had a home at some time and was allowed out, unneutered, which increases the chance of a cat becoming a wanderer. Now he has security and people who love him, and just possibly, the potential of a forever home of his own. 

Blog by Brigid Coult

Photos by Brigid Coult & Courtney Milburn

From Popcorning to Promising: The Elusive Cats of Pen 8

This week's blog is brought to you by Kitty Comforter Patty Altridge, who has been working her patient magic on a group of scared cats.

Cordelia stays out of reach  (PA)

Close your eyes. Now focus on the words “cats popcorning” and hold that image in your mind. What do you see? Cute memes of kitties bouncing energetically around? Think again. Popcorning is actually a frantic behaviour displayed by cats in defense mode—attempting to flee or attack in desperation to survive. This was the initial response of the cats in Pen 8 to human presence. Then, they seemed to disappear, becoming one with their environment and as elusive as shadows in the night.

A fearful Peanut (BC)

In August 2025, a group of cats came to RAPS from a rescue in Victoria. They had been saved from a hoarding situation and were terrified, with little experience of human contact. Transferred to their new home in Pen 8, they were given time to decompress before kitty comforters could enter and begin the slow, hopeful process of helping them adjust to life with humans.

Devon & Cordelia (KN)

Progress comes in baby steps and requires commitment—sometimes moving backward before going forward again. Through music, soft words, and quiet presence, kitty comforters are now being rewarded with encouraging signs.

Chiquita - starting to relax  (KN)

Presenting Our Kitties — In Order of “Popping”

Our Pen 8 cats show that, like kernels in a pot, individuals in similar environments grow and “pop” at different times. Each one requires patience and recognition as an individual.

Devon (PA)

Devon – A dilute calico who peers down from the rafters, hissing and threatening bodily harm—but her eyes betray her. They are softer, almost pleading for understanding and love. She is the first of her group to show change. Falling prey to her tummy, Devon is motivated by food and eventually throws caution to the wind for a Churu treat. Seven months after arrival, she abandons her feral posturing and eagerly licks the treat from human fingers.

Chiquita finally accepts food  (PA)

Chiquita – A cute grey tabby who lurks in the background, suspicious and wary. She watches Devon from afar and practically drools at the thought of Churu. Over time, she ventures closer, tempted to risk just one lick of that heavenly treat. Eventually, her tummy wins, and she happily laps it from a finger.

Peanut (KN)

Peanut – A white and brown tabby boy who pops in now and then to see what’s going on. He is wary but curious. With the girls leading the way—and his tummy urging him on—we anticipate he will be next to fall prey to the triple threat of treats, love, and understanding.

Pearl: "You can't see me..."  (PA)

Pearl – A pretty grey and white girl who allows herself to be seen but stays in the background, ready to run at a moment’s notice. Her fear of humans is still stronger than her desire for Churu, but she is showing promise as she watches the others reap the rewards.

Pearl & Poppyseed (PA)

Poppyseed – An elusive black beauty, newly joining the outdoor mix of curious onlookers. Whether drawn by sunny weather or the calm of the others, she remains cautious, reserving judgment on humans. Whether she will succumb to Churu remains to be seen—but she is showing interest and promise.

Cordelia (BC)

Cordelia – A fluffy long-haired brown and white tabby, and the last to be rescued from the hoarder. She seems the most wary of all. A mother to Devon and several others, she refuses to give in to tummy temptations and clings to her feral stance. Yet now and then, a fleeting softness appears in her eyes—a small but meaningful sign of hope.

Shadowy Minnie (KN)

Unpopped Kernels – Minnie, a long-haired grey girl; Calamity, a tortoiseshell tabby; and Athens, a 7-year-old short-haired black and white female. These are our shadows in the night—the ones we know are there but rarely see. Time will tell whether they remain unpopped or eventually transform into soft, fluffy popcorn.

And when they do—because some of them will—it won’t be with a bang, but with the quiet, extraordinary courage of a cat who has decided, at last, to trust.

Blog by Patti Altridge

Photos by Patti Altridge, Brigid Coult, Karen Nicholson