About seven or eight months ago, we saw this gray fuzzy meowmachine strolling through the yard. Not too uncommon; we’re in a fairly rural locale. But we didn’t recognize it as one of the neighbor’s cats. We’d see it from time to time, once in a while with a nice chipmunk or other treat in its mouth (note to selves; plant extra strawberries next year to soothe the Munkian spirits). Is it a stray? Probably not: coat looked very clean, especially for a long-haired galoot.
Then one day it started meeeooowwwwwwing in the yard. Intently meowing. Oh crap. Looked like she was in heat. Meow. Meow. MEOW. We have two boy-cats, so we figured she didn’t know they were no longer her type (snip snip). Couple months passed, and she never really went far.
Meow. MEOW.** MEOW**!
Now we were starting to get nervous about her homelessness. With two cats, a hectic life—there’s a one-year-old—we really didn’t want another pet. We were also getting nervous that maybe she was someone’s pet, but she’d end up having kittens in our yard; something else that we didn’t want. Weird for us, since as little as two years ago we had a brood of five (two pooches, one rabbit, two cats). But attrition and the arrival of the Dudeling had us put animal-acquisition on hold. Besides, our plan was to get a new pooch next year or so, and taking on a cat wasn’t in the works.
But she’d disappear for days. Must have gone home, we thought. Then:
Meow. Meeeeow. MMMMMMMMMMMMMMEEEEEEEEEEEEOW!
It was summer, and we figured we’d be okay until Winter, at least. Maybe she’d move on, or if not, maybe someone would take her in. We started that poking and water-testing of people—who wanted a cat?
My mom said she’d consider it if it was the Last Resort. That said, she gave her her first name.
Wait for it ….
Did I mention my mom is in her sixties? Has a sense of humor? Cute Ma, real cute. :rolleyes:
Around the house we shortened it to “Floe.”
And Floe kept coming back (cue Garrison Keillor).
Now she was sleeping on the porch, never really leaving, and caterwauling up a storm—she wanted the boys.
At this point, fall was coming on, she was getting friendlier to us when we went outside, and it looked like she wasn’t going anywhere.
Ma had backed out of taking her in, and we didn’t find anyone else willing.
It looked like she was probably going to get her way in some fashion or another. Her name shifted again: Flola.
Come on, sing it with us:
Whatever Flola wants …. Flola gets …
Actually, it was Flo’la. We have/had other pets with apostrophes (Teal’c, Rya’c), and this way the contraction stood for the Fluffy Menopause bit.
Time passed into the onset of winter. No way could we leave her out in the cold. Plus, she was becoming more and more affectionate towards us.
So we came back from a short vacation, made the vet appointment, and became resigned to our fate. We were extremely on edge about the outcome of the FeLV/FIV test, because by this time she’d really worked her way into our hearts. (Whatevvveerrrr FLoooola wantsssss….). But with two healthy indoor cats, we couldn’t risk it.
Ma came back in to save the day—the night before the tests she said that if they came back positive she’d take her in after all. Yay Mom!
So we brought her in for cleanup, a physical, tests, and to get fixed.
Whew—no major health problems! Worms, giardia, and bartonella—things associated with ferrellness, and curable (hopefully) with long courses of antibiotics—but nothing dramatic.
So we left her to get fixed.
Then we got a call from the vet. He can’t fix her.
After prepping for surgery, they found she’d already been fixed.
Oh, and not only that, she’s a he.
A he?! :eek:
I* really* wanted to go with Lola—the Kinks would have been oh-so-proud and it really fit the situation. But MrsDvl wasn’t going to have “him” end up with Boy Named Sue issues. Besides, he’d been through enough gender identity issues.
You do NOT doubt the masculinity of the ruler of Omicron Persei 8!
(A fun house-joke is to tell him he’s wuved, then exclaim how that confuses and infuriates him.)
But add it all up.
Clean coat and relative health.
Sudden appearance several months ago.
Gradual moving into the yard/porch/house.
Very gentle, sweet, and affectionate.
He is/was someone’s pet.
So now he’s safe and warm in the house, and everyone’s getting more and more attached. But we can’t ignore the likelihood that he’s someone’s lost pet. It was heartbreaking, but we put FOUND posters up all over the place. We hope someone calls. We’re hoping no one calls.
Very tough place to be in.