Rocket

Rocket (BH)

In late 2018, two little orange boys came into our care, trapped in North Richmond by faithful cat-trapper Stephanie Ross, who sadly passed earlier this year. Stephanie was responsible for bringing many cats to us – often from the Steveston area, where she lived, but she was also responsible for trapping the Cow Cats from an East Richmond composting facility, and for other colonies.

At a safe distance, in the back pen  (MW)

We still need to keep an eye open in North Richmond, where there is a green belt that results in many rodents that make for good hunting for cats who have strayed, or survived a feral upbringing. In the summer of 2019 there was a sudden population boom when a well-meaning cat-lover fed the local strays without alerting us to the need for some population control; only when kittens started having kittens did someone call us, and around 60 cats of all ages were brought in.  The two little orange boys of the year before were definitely from the same genetic pool; Sprocket, the long-haired one, is visually a twin (though probably an uncle) of orange Mercury; Rocket, the short-haired one, is an orange version of black Atlas.

There was a lot of hiding at first (KN)

Both boys were feral, and have largely remained so for years – but over seven years, they have become more comfortable with humans being around them. As we always do, the first thing to happen is a vet visit for blood-tests and neutering; the blood-test showed that Rocket carried the FIV retrovirus, and he was relocated to the New Aids pen. There, as for many ferals, his cage-time was largely hidden behind a drape; he wanted nothing to do with us, and when released, he got as far away as possible.  For most of the New Aids cats, that consists of either hiding on the cage-tops in the main cabin, or in going right to the back of the smaller cabins.

Being groomed by Cypress  (LBF)

Best buddies  (LBF)

When I sent the text of my blog to Sanctuary Manager Valerie for proofing, she reminded me of something I’d missed – I guess this happened when we were COVID-hit, and I might not have been around. She says:
Someone vandalised the fence, cutting it in the Prince of Wales section. Drake and Rocket got out. Drake came back right away - he was almost scared of being out there. But Rocket went on a murder spree! We had trail cameras set up and we were watching him climb in and under the Moore House (which is now gone, because it was in bad condition). And then we would find giant dead rats. Like the size of my shoe. My friend was rooting for him because he was living his best life. Then it started to rain a bunch in the fall and that's when he allowed himself to be trapped again.

A favourite place to look for petting  (KN)

Happy elevator bum!  (KN)

Rocket was initially antisocial with us – but NOT with other cats; he was a boy who liked feline company, and could often be found cuddled up with someone else. Though his early years with us were mostly at a distance, he obviously decided that humans who brought food, and offered treats and toys were worth taking a chance with; all his first contact with us was when he was up on a table or a kennel, and having us looming over him was still too scary. But when we were sitting by a table, it began to be a signal that he could come up and accept petting and treats, and he often approaches in the back pens by climbing on the waist-high side awning, looking for attention.

Blissful when he trusts  (KC)

His brother Sprocket hangs out in the back courtyard; like Rocket, he has remained wary, though he is ready to accept a little touch, and treats. His other-generation family in Pen 1 – Mercury, Juno, Nyx and Atlas – remain touch-me-not semi-ferals. And Mercury, too, is a hunter of any rats stupid enough to get through the fence.

Kuma & Rocket  (KN)

Other cats are still Rocket’s favourite thing. While Cypress was still an angry feral, he and Rocket would cuddle happily;  Cypress is now an attention-mooch and a lap-cat, and that’s a bit too much for Rocket to take. He likes to be with the smaller black boys – Kuma and Smalls – neither of whom are really ready for much human attention. (Kuma, incidentally, is from the same area as Rocket, and they may share genetics). Rocket takes himself out of the way when visitors arrive at the weekends - but he just loves it when the people he trusts come looking for him on a quiet day, and he revels in their care.

Blog by Brigid Coult

Photos by Lisa Brill-Friesen, Katy Cobb, Brielle Hutchison,

 Karen Nicholson, Michele Wright

Mr Binx

Mr Binx  (KC)

Any visitor to the New Aids pen is bound to be greeted by the welcoming committee, usually led by chunky Mr Binx. Binx and Domino consider themselves to be the primary New Aids hosts, and both will happily take any opportunity to slide past a carelessly open door and into the between-gates area.  Luckily, they are both easily scoopable for return to their own space.

A position of power - overseeing everyone else  (KC)

Mr Binx came to us about four years ago with his buddy Panda, who passed a year later. He was from Broken Promises on Vancouver Island - one of many other cats who have come from that rescue - and like most of the other New Aids boys, had lived feral for a while. He’s not forgotten his feral skills; he is one of the keen hunters when a stupid young rat tries to enter cat-territory. Like some of the others, Binx is not the most reliable user of litter-boxes, and therefore not a good candidate for adoption.

On the lookout for prey?  (KC)

He does not live up to his role model. The Mr Binx of the 1993 movie Hocus Pocus is an elegant black cat. Our Mr Binx is a chubby mess, with his black fur offset by a splotch of white on the right side of his muzzle;  he tends to look rumpled and needs regular grooming, but does not really enjoy the process.

Serious bed-head...   (KC)

Weekend visitors learn that if they want time with really friendly Sanctuary cats, New Aids is the place to be! Volunteer Marty spends Sunday afternoons with NA cats (and visitors), and knows them well. Food is a strong motivator, and Binx is always in the lead when it comes to mooching. Marty says that Binx will accept few pets, but generally doesn’t have much time for most humans unless bribed. He is front of the line when the red treat cups are full, but will go sit on the sidelines when they are empty. He’s not aggressive or anything – just more solitary, and while he has friends in the pen, he spends most of his time alone by preference. 

Lounging around, waiting for goodies  (BH)

Some of the cats will stay out of the way when there are more than one or two humans around; cats like Vinnie and Rocket prefer the quiet life. Mr Binx doesn’t object to crowds – the more visitors, the more treats will come his way!

Blog by Brigid Coult

Photos by Katy Cobb, Brielle Hutchison, Karen Nicholson

Reef

Reef

Reef is one of several cats who has come to us from another shelter that was unable to get him adopted.  Like Bello, he was trapped and neutered, but was so fearful that potential adopters were unwilling to consider him.  He came into our care, caged in the Connor building while we gave him a chance to get used to the people and the smells and the other cats. There, he was very vocal, letting us know very clearly that he wanted out of there!  Volunteers and Kitty Comforters visited him, but some cats just hate cages – no matter that ours are much larger than most commercial ones – and Reef couldn’t wait to get out.

Don't bug me...

Release day came, and Reef didn’t hang around long. He quickly discovered that most of the shyer cats prefer to hang out in the Old Rabbit Area, and that there are lots of places where he can hide behind a drape or in an upper-level basket. And there he would probably have remained, if not for Carol Porteous.

Climbing down onto Carol's lap

Carol is a favourite with many of the front courtyard cats – actually, she’s a favourite everywhere she goes! – but she is usually on shift for feeding in the front, and the cats gather at the gate as she arrives. Like former volunteer Lori (now living in Alberta) she brings both freshly cooked chicken and fish, and some of the tastiest of the commercial catfoods. She has a particular gift with the very shy ones, and it’s thanks to her that I have begun to know little tripod Chutney, and Reef.

Leg-rubs

She calls him Reefie, and his head immediately pops up from the basket where he’s hiding. Within a couple of minutes, he makes his way to her, climbing down from her shoulder to her lap, and then weaving around her legs.  Because he is so confident in her presence, he is also comfortable with me, and before long I have a new lap-sitter.

Under the heat-lamp

Reef is about 5 years old, and a skinny boy; possibly life in the wild has left its mark, and it will be good to see if we can get a little more condition on him.  My guess is that he is actually a stray rather than a feral, and is now remembering what it is like to have humans giving him some love.  It’s heart-warming to see how handsome Bello, in the back courtyard, has blossomed – to the point that he’s now wearing his “adoptable” bandanna at the weekends.  Reef is still a bit too wary for that, but when there are few people around I can call his name and he will emerge and offer leg-rubs, and then lap-time. 

Watching us from above

It doesn’t take much to spook him, and there are other cats like Cuddles and Westin who get a bit jealous (Westin demonstrates his jealousy by sitting on my feet!), but every encounter makes him a little more confident.  He’s not ready yet to go further than the doorway, but he’s made such progress in the last while that I am confident that our patience will eventually be rewarded by a cat who is no longer “too feral to adopt”.

Blog & photos by Brigid Coult