Enjoy.
http://leoleocat.wordpress.com/
Showing posts with label Leo-A. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Leo-A. Show all posts
Monday, April 4, 2011
Leo Blog
On a light note, here's a new weekly blog I'm trying out featuring the adventures of my supremely goofy adopted cat, Leo, with appearances by his beloved mom, Daphne. It will be largely in comic form plus a few photos and videos.
Enjoy.
http://leoleocat.wordpress.com/
Enjoy.
http://leoleocat.wordpress.com/
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Happy Anniversary, Claire, Daphne & Leo
In addition to being Canada Day, tomorrow marks one year in my first pet friendly apartment, and one year since I brought two cats from the sanctuary home to live with me.
It's been fun getting to know each other over the past year. And it's interesting, when bringing home adult cats, how some personality traits show up right away, while others only really manifest once they've gotten to know you to their satisfaction. Here's a brief retrospective of our first year:
It's been fun getting to know each other over the past year. And it's interesting, when bringing home adult cats, how some personality traits show up right away, while others only really manifest once they've gotten to know you to their satisfaction. Here's a brief retrospective of our first year:
July 2009
Leo searches for hiding spots in the cardboard jungle;
Daphne felt at home from the first
Summer 2009
Leo finds potted plants to be good company
and likes to sit as close as possible
Autumn 2009
Bought for the cats: 1 stuffed rat from Ikea
Bought for the human: 1 Ikea lamp in small box
The rat gets moved around the apartment from time to time,
but it's the box they love and I still haven't been permitted to recyle.
but it's the box they love and I still haven't been permitted to recyle.
Autumn 2009
The first cats I've lived with who actually care for each other
rather than simply living under a truce of mutual toleration.
December 2009
Leo has come to love me, but he worships his mom.
He is still distraught if he has to be without her for even a few moments.
December 2009
Spending Christmas at my parents' in Victoria meant bringing the furry family with me.
Leo hated the car and yowled as long as it was in motion, but felt safe in the room set aside for them at my parents' place. Daphne was ready to move in. When we got home, I was sure they'd be traumatized by so much as the sight of their carriers. They quickly proved me wrong by climbing right in.
January 2009
Cat vs. Marmot: Daphne shows her "Olympic spirit"
January 2010
Leo prefers to eat with his hands
April 2010
Daphne sitting pretty. She loves lounging on the cat tree
by my third floor window and watching passers by.
by my third floor window and watching passers by.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Greyson
Greyson is a recent arrival at the shelter. Gaye, one of our animal care workers, brought him in at the beginning of the month after seeing him hanging around her neighborhood for a while.
Although he's tame, suddenly coming into contact with hundreds of strange cats in a strange new environment can be a pretty overwhelming, so Greyson's got a cage to himself in the double wide trailer for now.
And yes, like Hubert and Winston, this boy has a big head.
Ann now has a theory about me:
"Claire likes big-headed cats!" she says to Shannon in the sort of cheerfully triumphant playground voice we all must have some residual memories of from school.
Narrowly avoiding a knee-jerk "I do not!", I only manage to protest that it's just because Ann keeps pointing them out to me and they keep turning out to be cute.
Lame, but true.
It's easy to love and admire handsome cats like Leonard or beauties like Daphne, but I (and I'm quite sure I'm not alone) can't help but have a soft spot as well for the ones with some little quirk that sets them apart: raggedy Chance, curly tailed and obliviously crippled Lincoln, alternately shy and goofy Leo... just to name a few.
Although he's tame, suddenly coming into contact with hundreds of strange cats in a strange new environment can be a pretty overwhelming, so Greyson's got a cage to himself in the double wide trailer for now.
And yes, like Hubert and Winston, this boy has a big head.
Ann now has a theory about me:
drawing by Claire
"Claire likes big-headed cats!" she says to Shannon in the sort of cheerfully triumphant playground voice we all must have some residual memories of from school.
Narrowly avoiding a knee-jerk "I do not!", I only manage to protest that it's just because Ann keeps pointing them out to me and they keep turning out to be cute.
Lame, but true.
It's easy to love and admire handsome cats like Leonard or beauties like Daphne, but I (and I'm quite sure I'm not alone) can't help but have a soft spot as well for the ones with some little quirk that sets them apart: raggedy Chance, curly tailed and obliviously crippled Lincoln, alternately shy and goofy Leo... just to name a few.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
A note on the use of cages
The c-word. This is a touchy one when looking at animal shelters.
I'm talking about cages.
I remember once as a child I begged my dad to take me to the local animal shelter to see the cats only to be faced with a bank of small, mewling cages. An especially desperate cat reaching through the bars to try and touch me led to my having to flee in tears. I still find it an upsetting episode.
Imagine how the cats felt.
A July piece in The Examiner on the San Francisco SPCA quotes Shelter Medicine Department director Dr. Jennifer Scarlett:
Given that this is the sort of image that the word "cage" can evoke in relation to animal shelters, I've been reluctant to use it when talking about the RAPS sanctuary for fear of giving a wrong impression of the place. Perhaps I should explain.
The vast majority of the cats at the sanctuary are free to wander as they will around various parts of the complex.
If any of these cat should become ill, they are moved to a cage for observation and treatment, then let out again as soon as they are well enough.
Newcomers are given a cage to give them time to adjust to their new environment without having to deal with hundreds of other inhabitants at the same time. Cats like Rita especially need this kind of refuge. Young ferals are much more likely to become tame and friendly if they are placed somewhere they will be regularly exposed to humans. Take Lillix, for example.
When I first met my two, they were in a large cage with four other cats.
Why so crowded? They'd all been housemates before being surrendered and it allowed them to stay together.
The four were let out soon after I adopted Daphne and Leo, but Snowball has recently been returned to her old cage, which she now has all to herself, for a "time out" because she needed a break from all the other cats.
I spent some time with her in there after my shift this week and found her looking more relaxed than she's been in a while.
Next up: Aurora, cage dweller by choice!
I'm talking about cages.
I remember once as a child I begged my dad to take me to the local animal shelter to see the cats only to be faced with a bank of small, mewling cages. An especially desperate cat reaching through the bars to try and touch me led to my having to flee in tears. I still find it an upsetting episode.
Imagine how the cats felt.
A July piece in The Examiner on the San Francisco SPCA quotes Shelter Medicine Department director Dr. Jennifer Scarlett:
“Keeping large numbers of animals healthy and being mindful of each has always been an issue for me personally,” Scarlett said. “The traditional shelter environment in particular is extremely stressful for cats. They are small and so it’s easy to cram them into a small space. Unlike dogs, they don’t make a fuss, yet when you put them in a cage the size of an oven, they shut down. Also in a small space, cats are forced to exist right next to their litter boxes, which is contrary to their fastidious nature, not to mention, they unable to do normal cat things – stretch, walk, play and rest comfortably.”
Given that this is the sort of image that the word "cage" can evoke in relation to animal shelters, I've been reluctant to use it when talking about the RAPS sanctuary for fear of giving a wrong impression of the place. Perhaps I should explain.
The vast majority of the cats at the sanctuary are free to wander as they will around various parts of the complex.
If any of these cat should become ill, they are moved to a cage for observation and treatment, then let out again as soon as they are well enough.
Newcomers are given a cage to give them time to adjust to their new environment without having to deal with hundreds of other inhabitants at the same time. Cats like Rita especially need this kind of refuge. Young ferals are much more likely to become tame and friendly if they are placed somewhere they will be regularly exposed to humans. Take Lillix, for example.
When I first met my two, they were in a large cage with four other cats.
Why so crowded? They'd all been housemates before being surrendered and it allowed them to stay together.
The four were let out soon after I adopted Daphne and Leo, but Snowball has recently been returned to her old cage, which she now has all to herself, for a "time out" because she needed a break from all the other cats.
I spent some time with her in there after my shift this week and found her looking more relaxed than she's been in a while.
Next up: Aurora, cage dweller by choice!
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Angel
Looking at Angel is the only easy way to tell that Leo and Daphne are blood relations. She's got a black and white version of her mom's long coat and a mostly straight version of her brother's short tail. She also shares with Leo a streak of white along her back like some random mistake of a brushstroke. Angel's is more pronounced and against the black fur it gives her an appearance reminiscent of Penelope Pussycat from the Pepé Le Pew cartoons.
Personality-wise, I find Angel a bit hard to figure. She can be very good at feigning indifference, as if she'd sized up the human world and found it all a bit lacking. Granted, when I met her she had recently been taken out of the only home she knew and was living with five other cats in an enclosure the size of a large shower stall... Despite food and water, soft things to sit on and the presence of the cats she grew up with, I guess it's hard to blame her for being unimpressed with the whole situation.
I was very pleased to hear she was adopted shortly after I took her mother and brother home. I was very surprised to hear yesterday that she was back at the sanctuary again. She was to be a companion for an older cat and apparently intimidated that cat so much that it just wasn't going to work out.
Angel appears to be taking all this in stride. I went to visit her and she totally ignored me, being very much engrossed in the business of lounging. Next time I passed by, though, she changed her mind and decided a bit of attention might not be so bad. She even deigned to meow.
Updated October 4, 2010: Wonderful news - Angel and her good friend Snowball have been adopted together!
Personality-wise, I find Angel a bit hard to figure. She can be very good at feigning indifference, as if she'd sized up the human world and found it all a bit lacking. Granted, when I met her she had recently been taken out of the only home she knew and was living with five other cats in an enclosure the size of a large shower stall... Despite food and water, soft things to sit on and the presence of the cats she grew up with, I guess it's hard to blame her for being unimpressed with the whole situation.
I was very pleased to hear she was adopted shortly after I took her mother and brother home. I was very surprised to hear yesterday that she was back at the sanctuary again. She was to be a companion for an older cat and apparently intimidated that cat so much that it just wasn't going to work out.
Angel appears to be taking all this in stride. I went to visit her and she totally ignored me, being very much engrossed in the business of lounging. Next time I passed by, though, she changed her mind and decided a bit of attention might not be so bad. She even deigned to meow.
Updated October 4, 2010: Wonderful news - Angel and her good friend Snowball have been adopted together!
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Leo and Daphne (aka Lacey)
It’s funny, though perhaps not surprising, that volunteers don't ask each other "Do you have a cat?" That’s practically a given. It’s really more a question of quantity.
Me? Two.
If you’re wondering how a person can manage to choose two from the hundreds of cats at the sanctuary, I must confess I didn’t even try. When I was ready to adopt, I went to one of the staff for a recommendation. She already had one picked out: a pretty little 3 year old grey and white longhair named Lacey who would wriggle and purr at the slightest provocation. Great! Introductions were made and I loved her right away.
I told one of the other staff members and was greeted with a rather unexpected response:
"Um, er…"
Lacey came to the shelter with her 2 year old son and daughter. The daughter, Angel, was quite self-sufficient and not a worry, but the son, Leo, they could only describe as "very attached." My own description of him runs more along the lines of the cat equivalent of a 40 year old guy who lives in his parents' basement and spends all his time with online gaming. But yes, as a somewhat socially challenged mama's boy, who probably wouldn't fare too well on his own.
Leo is a washer and a hider. In a relaxed mood, he’s compelled to wash anyone who will sit still without swatting him. Less relaxed, he's saucer-eyed and looking for exits. When the cats in his former home were surrendered to the shelter, he hid so well that no one could find him for days.
Fortunately, I grew up with a cat who was also a hider (and a washer). Armed with a smile and a brush, I it didn't take long to make friends. Animals who spend their time grooming everyone else seem to appreciate having someone groom them for a change.
His other quirk is that he's a cat with a dogleg tail – there's a 90° kink halfway up with another little piece kinked the other way at the end. I'm told he just came out like that. Not sure how that happens… in utero squabbling?
Lacey, now called Daphne after totally ignoring me when I called her by her shelter name, could scarcely be more different than her son. She's a little princess, equal parts refined and capricious. It's actually amazing she's the well-adjusted one of the pair, since she was brought in to the shelter pregnant, taken home by a volunteer to foster her while she had and raised her kittens, only to have to be sent back to the shelter when the volunteer's circumstances no longer made it possible to keep her.
Perhaps the sure knowledge that she must be the deposed cat princess of some distant, forgotten realm helps her to maintain her dignity. This is the only explanation I can think of for why she responds to Your Highness more readily than any other name.
Me? Two.
If you’re wondering how a person can manage to choose two from the hundreds of cats at the sanctuary, I must confess I didn’t even try. When I was ready to adopt, I went to one of the staff for a recommendation. She already had one picked out: a pretty little 3 year old grey and white longhair named Lacey who would wriggle and purr at the slightest provocation. Great! Introductions were made and I loved her right away.
I told one of the other staff members and was greeted with a rather unexpected response:
"Um, er…"
Lacey came to the shelter with her 2 year old son and daughter. The daughter, Angel, was quite self-sufficient and not a worry, but the son, Leo, they could only describe as "very attached." My own description of him runs more along the lines of the cat equivalent of a 40 year old guy who lives in his parents' basement and spends all his time with online gaming. But yes, as a somewhat socially challenged mama's boy, who probably wouldn't fare too well on his own.
Leo is a washer and a hider. In a relaxed mood, he’s compelled to wash anyone who will sit still without swatting him. Less relaxed, he's saucer-eyed and looking for exits. When the cats in his former home were surrendered to the shelter, he hid so well that no one could find him for days.
Fortunately, I grew up with a cat who was also a hider (and a washer). Armed with a smile and a brush, I it didn't take long to make friends. Animals who spend their time grooming everyone else seem to appreciate having someone groom them for a change.
His other quirk is that he's a cat with a dogleg tail – there's a 90° kink halfway up with another little piece kinked the other way at the end. I'm told he just came out like that. Not sure how that happens… in utero squabbling?
Lacey, now called Daphne after totally ignoring me when I called her by her shelter name, could scarcely be more different than her son. She's a little princess, equal parts refined and capricious. It's actually amazing she's the well-adjusted one of the pair, since she was brought in to the shelter pregnant, taken home by a volunteer to foster her while she had and raised her kittens, only to have to be sent back to the shelter when the volunteer's circumstances no longer made it possible to keep her.
Perhaps the sure knowledge that she must be the deposed cat princess of some distant, forgotten realm helps her to maintain her dignity. This is the only explanation I can think of for why she responds to Your Highness more readily than any other name.
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