What's up Peeps.
Well this was supposed to be a #caturday post...Well that's not true, there wasn't supposed to be one but I looked at the clock as I was covered in semi-domesticated stray cats and it was still before midnight, I thought I would enjoy the moment rather then disturb the peace before I got up to get my camera. Anyhow , to these critters with no concept of time that we recognize, everyday is caturday. Every summer I make some weird backyard observation that nobody but me gives a fuck about, this year is no different. Lets keep up stale traditions now, seems to be the way of the world anyway. I'll sweeten the pot with cute sleepy kitties, I promise. Look into those Ti-Kitty eyes, how can you not be hypnotized!
It's not a post about an overcomplicated fascinating over the top weekend experience but this was probably on the list of most precious nonetheless and very much enjoy the peacefulness it brings. A bonding experience with new pets and sit with my own thoughts. Not just for me but for them too. They are a bit of a wild ride for now but it's a good learning opportunity for all of us. Before we get too much into kitty talk, lets loop further back in time to the beginning of the summer with a bit of a bird update.
To be honest, I guess this was a not as pleasant birdie experience as I expected for the summer compared to the others especially as auntie blue jay. Where I had to watch and digest the harsh truth of duality and survival wild instincts mixed with the devastating forces of nature. At the beginning of the summer, as per usual, I anticipated the return of the jay family and more babies to grow their neighborhood population. then tragedy struck and a massively outnumbered fight broke out with magpies. 4 adult jays and 3 babies against at least 20 magpies. The bigger competitor had a new birdie just learning to fly and near the jay's nest is where he wanted to fly to.
Not a very good photo but the magpie fledgling in question the first time he made into my yard but I could hear him slowly hop his way tree to tree making his way towards the yard with his parents. With his own wings being week and only learning to fly, they learn by jumping from branch to branch and "fake fly" until they can well...fly for realzies.
Getting tired fast at this stage he can decide to stay in one tree for a few days before he decides to continue on his first fierce neighborhood journey out of the nest. Jays under normal circumstances learn to fly the same way. Being a hardier bird, the magpies are born earlier despite possible frost therefore claim the practice airspace faster then their Jay-nemies.
The magpies, I have to say are quite aggressive with a fledgling, they will viciously attack anything that moves near it unfortunately and size is no object...Pets , humans...whatever they feel like. If they feel like their size is an issue, they just go conjure up more birds in adjacent neighborhoods and come back bigger until they claim the desired territory. In this case, to protect their lineage. Wright or wrong.
Immediately after the fight and destruction of the nest, the magpies started attacking what was on the ground until humans intervened and shooed them away meanwhile a bad storm was brewing and it rained a strong constant down poor for 3 days. Whatever was in the nest fell at least 100 to 150 feet from the tree since jays nest as high as they can. The adults had to flee to safety and abandon the babies right where they were for their own survival. 3 were found total over the course of the week, 2 were too small to survive the ordeal but there was one special one that couldn't fly but had enough feathers to break his fall and was strong enough to sustain the stress of it all.
Mother Jay preparing her secret baby formula with a mix of feeder seeds, grass pickings and water and she feeds the mush to her young every 20 minutes or so from sun up until sundown.
Jay's are susceptible to stress, most birds are, they can die from that alone. They also have a low survival rate per nest because of all the things listed above. Last year, the same number survived...one made it into adulthood but since the nest was intact in tree where it was supposed to be, I have no idea out of how many eggs. Perhaps all their small colony of adults can handle protecting and caring for. Sometimes these things are tough pills to swallow as a human with a heart that sometimes cares more than it should. I suppose I generally get spared from some of the survival horrors of nature's dualistic aspects. What you don't see I guess. How about you? Do you want to know the horrors and digest a few tough to swallow pills or blissful ignorance? There probably isn't a right or wrong answer. Something to ponder. Deep down inside I know that it's a miracle one even survived in the first place.
Over the course of a few days, already being jumpy in a yard full of active baby birdie make shift jump climbing and wing strengthening activities, he was jumping the backyard steps and looking at me thru the summer screen door. Moving on to the lawn chair with another hoppity-hop-hop into the tree feeling potted jade on a stand to take a nappety-nap-nap until mum comes for my last feeding of the evening before nighty-night.
Sorry baby birdy, your makeshift backyard tree like nest isn't very fluffy, I swear it looks better towards the end of the summer after being outside sunbathing after a long low light winter. come back and check it out later when you get older.
I'm hungry...Is mum coming soon? Are you mum? Have any food? did I tell you I was hungry?Awwe...If squawks had words.
A few more days until he could take on a bigger obstacle course jumping onto the bird bath like it was his personal swimming pool until he could eventually jump from the bath to the top of the fence for some day time perch time until it was time for sleep and returned to his weird nest like new home. A few more days until he jumped into the tree branch and started making his way into the tree and prepare for his own first real mock-flight across the neighborhood. Except, it wasn't quite as safe as it was for the young magpie. It was his chance along with his parents to make their great escape to a less threatening neighborhood until the magpies move out and he grew strong enough to fly away and protect himself better.
With their great escape, I could no longer hear the anticipated morning baby chirps when mum came with every bite. I slept on the sofa just to be able to hear everyone of them I could. I couldn't see him anymore with him jumping branches across the courtyard but as long as I could hear him, I knew he was still alive. Then one day, it went quiet. No more baby chirps. Same as the next, and the next after that...For most of the rest of the summer until about a week ago. CHIRP CHIRP LOOK AT ME AUNTIE BLUE JAY! REMEMBER ME? How can I forget Baby Blue, looks like your taking a liking to post peanuts just like your parents! I haven't been able to take too many pics of him because he's really skittish, no doubt, he had a traumatizing beginning...Poor birdy. So I don't really try. He's still tiny, not fully grown but in his teen-age like state at about half the size of his parents. He stops by with the same loud FEED-ME squawks that brings me comfort several times across the day and I just enjoy the chirps as I look out the window.
Now time for the logistics on interfering with nature the way I did. Is it proper? Normally picking up baby birds when they fall out of the nest should be limited and falling out is part of the natural process given they have enough wings formed to float or glide down during the fall. As long as there is no direct threats and a parent tends to it, it should just be left alone. As mentioned above, they feed every 20 minutes so it's fast to find out but they might not come with humans around unless the birds are already familiar but they do remember faces , especially Jays. They have a similar memory and intelligence level of a crow or raven and will remember things for it's entire life.
In this case, a large shared high traffic multiple unit parking lot isn't appropriate training ground for a tiny flightless birdy and for mom to chase him around for feedings was quite a task as she always had to look for him between magpie attacks and rainstorms. In the backyard, he was at least confined to a limited surface area to make it easier for the mother to care and protect. The baby lived 3 doors down from it's original nesting place and I was the yard where the parents already fed. It just made too much sense.
To make sure to point out, I'm not familiar with laws around the world on wildlife rescues but here in Canada keeping wild birds for indoor captivity long term meaning longer then 24 hours out of absolute necessity in life or death scenarios, trained wildlife rescue officials should be called. so don't keep wild birdies in the house, even if you have to take it inside out of necessity, wildlife rescue experts should still be consulted for species specific instructions. M-kay!
Merlin aka Ti-Kitty with his Squidworth from PetSmart. You can buy the stick separately and attach and detach the toy for fun jump attacks or removed for safe sweet cuddles when mum's arm is too busy taking annoying pictures then to let me hold it to sleep.
Keep in mind, I only did this as a moral judgement call to keep the already stressed family together because not an experience I went out looking for. Like I said stress can kill a baby bird and what more stressful then to be separated from his parents on top of what already went down. To be clear, this was an approved best case scenario by their experts as long as he was being cared for and he was given all the facts and normal feeding habits and location of the parents. Looking back, despite the heartbreaking reality that the nestlings were too young to break their fall and survive all the commotion that ensued it may have been miracle birdie's only chance at survival and the parents not being over-taxed energetically, they would have spent most of their energy on the one with the best chance anyhow...That one. The cruel reality of nature. At the end of the day, without mild interference, he wouldn't have survived.
Obviously, keeping a baby Jay in the backyard is also not something to be taken lightly since the parents are equally protective of their young and will attack anything that moves. Obviously, time for the furry friends be kept indoor because the Jays will attack. Humans too. Luckily, with an already 4 year relationship with the Jay family, I already had a trust bond so they would allow me to tend to the various things like refilling feeders, post peanuts and changing the bath water. I would bring my camera with me to steal a few since I had to go disrupt with purpose. Otherwise, I just let them be. The patriarch would closely watch me but no attacks, he's also smart enough to know these are his crucial supplies to his daunting task anyhow...I suppose that in itself probably granted me a few perks.
Kitties and birdies in the same post? Aren't they unlikely friends? Yes indeed. That was also a big big brewing predator problem in itself. As all of this went down, just because it wasn't already complex enough, the excessive spring rains also sprouted some strange flowers just a few weeks before. Some really stressed out confused flowers. Who came first, King Arthur aka Arty or Merlin?
I suppose that depends on personal perspective. Last summer, I noticed some nights King Kit-Ten would disappear until 4 am and doing my due diligence and knowing his where abouts and nightly activities of choice. I put my pet investigator cape on and found him and as I found him in another neighbor's yard, I saw a second set of shiny eyes scurry away. Ah, that's what you are up to. Such a sweet Min-Min Buddy. Ok, it's breaking the curfew rules but for good intentions, I'll allow it, maybe not everyday but we can negotiate. I have suspicions it was Arty but he was too shy and scared of humans. King Min-Min is like that. It may have been a decade ago or so but he remembers being in the same situation and is actually quite a compassionate cat because of it. He was completely feral with no house experience and the -40's brought him inside. He was already fully grown so he's at least 12 possibly up to 14 now.
Since then, big kitty pays it forward with good neighborhood stewardship by caring for the scared helpless improperly discarded spring kittens, how I know which one are the homeless ones, he brings them home and helps care for them when they are too scared to approach. He eventually coaxed him into our yard and Arty started sleeping there for a safe space from time to time. Despite my best efforts, all I could do for him is put food out because he would run out of the yard at first sight of me. To be honest, I'm surprised he made thru the winter in the first place but he was looking rough and skinny. Finally spring came and he made it! It was warm enough to leave the backdoor open for free access (pre- make shift bird emergency home). It gave him the chance to trust enough to come inside for a snack as long as there was no movements. Then he would leave.
When the bird emergency occurred, he was smart enough to use the front door for food services and just best to not go outback for a bit. Kit-Ten same thing. Funny enough the birds are his pets too. His favorite activity is to sit in the yard and watch them. Protects them from other marauding kitties looking for a winged snack, only his unhoused friends allowed. In his mind he might think he's the attendant first responder of an urban animal shelter all on his own. In his early days, he saved a pregnant discarded pet in the winter saving the life of 5 cats that went to loving homes.
Mum, I'm cute for meat not photos. I'm a fancy kitty now and I demand my nightly snack-feast for my services...I did let you pet me like 5 chest scratches already. There is meat right? RIGHT?
Now that Arty was at least feeding here, maybe he would eventually be comfortable enough to live here by next winter. Then a curve ball happen. A ginger kitty came in with Min- Min and it wasn't Arty. We now had a triplicate situation. The Three Ginger Wiskerteers. Merlin lost his outdoors privileges after injuring his paw and getting an abscess with his frequent crazy three block wide lost kitten escapades while he looked for his home. No idea how old he was, anywhere between 6 to 9 months old maybe. I found several postings of him of other good Samaritans trying to help him find home for a couple of weeks already, the multi family complex that had burned found their lost kitty so I just took ownership of him and took it in the chin. He was probably discarded. Morally, WTF do you do.
The expensive vet bills was the least of my worries. I had to take an already stressed out traumatized kitten that had aggressive tendencies under stress on a car ride for an emergency vet procedure not really knowing much about him besides I found him in the garden then on the couch with big puss-n-boots eyes 2 weeks ago. Now his first exam was interesting, as long as I was in the room he was calm-ish, didn't like it but when he was getting aggressive with the vet, I would give him the same all over the face kisses that seemed to get to him and that he was in a safe place. At first the vet looked at me strangely but it did calm the aggression so he paid it no mind. Every time I would stop, back to aggression. That went on for a few cycles and the vet started to find the routine a little entertaining and cute.
Until he had to take him out back to a more private area to determine the paw trouble and what would be the appropriate care...The dreaded NO MOM ZONE. I heard a cat shriek and just as fast the vet coming back to the initial exam room with toonie size eyes that now almost appeared bigger than his glasses...Hum...Mam...Is it ok if I sedate to finish my exam? Yes, yes...I warned you that remove mum, he turns into possessed back-alley demon cat. Poor doctor thought I was being funny with the all over the face kisses. He would have been sedated to clean the abscess out anyway, lets make it less traumatizing on both of them. One way or another, would have been a necessity. Now, how do you keep an injured kitten you don't know still and INSIDE for a few days and take medicine for 10 days...not one... THREE
Ti-Kitty does not approve. What is this weird cumbersome satellite appendage I suddenly wake up with? Why do I feel funny...I can't even stand...where was...I'm gonna go cry for help at the window denouncing my captors with my tiny violin between trashing my satellite dish against the wall excessively while on painkillers. Get it off of me...eww get it off.
His second ultimate human betrayal in a short amount of time. I understood but there wasn't much I could do. So I negotiated his sentence down to removing the cone of shame only if he promised to be cute again and not chew the wound and be nice to the other kitties, they can really smack you down, they don't because they know they are bigger and it would be unfair. Fine...but I'm still playing my tiny violin in displeasure by the open window for another week. Fine Merlin...Fine. No I prefer Ti-Kitty, you owe me human.
OK Ti-Kitty, can I Kiss it better? OK. Also you don't get to go outside anymore because I see you getting upset at the birds that fly in the yard that you can't get to leads me to believe you might be a threat to the bird eco-system empire that was manicured over the years. You are too little and vulnerable to go outside and out of the yard anyway scrapping with kitties twice your size like you pay your own vet bills...You are still a tiny baby. For your troubles, I brought you an offering of birdies of you very own you can play with when you are not too busy playing your tiny violin at the window. Meet the Mock-A-Toos. Are they to your liking my sad little vocalist?
Intriguing offering, carry on. What else is in that bag of guilt trickery? Giving up kitty scrapping deeply offends me, how about my troubles there?
Ok Ti-Kitty...Calm down. I highly suspect you are not exactly on the winning end of your battles or on the verge of a conquest despite your hard kitty exterior. I can tell you have no outside experience and so can the other bigger more experienced alley kitties like Arty and Kit-Ten, only harm can come your way, clearly with your paw infection. They don't want to fight, we are all friends here but I understand life must not be easy living 3 territorial Wiskerteers...All boys...I get it. How about some kitties of your own that you can bite as much as you want? Does this please my Sir Fluffyness?
Ok fine but we still play chase the red dot and the ball down the stairs...and more face kisses...yes...more face kisses...all over. Can I hold your arm while you pet my chin when I get scared? It helps sooth me. You are right, I'm just a tiny kitty and my life had many scary changes and encounters but my paw does feel better now but I still struggle to wrap my mind around it all and that makes me act out but I prefer being sweet kitty...I dunno. Pet me while I blog to my Hive caturday experts in consult and think about it?
Ok Ti-Kitty.
Ok, I have blogged to all of my feline digital tribe of expert and they agree this is a good deal to my benefit. Can we nose and forehead boop to ratify this deal? Yes cutie, how about a Squidworth to cuddle with too?
Cat stress is a real thing and they stress easy in the best of circumstances but the reality of rescuing back-alley strays, they are probably traumatized from it especially if they were a house cat that suddenly found itself outside. Stress in a cat can manifest in multiple ways and excessive aggression, chewing their own fur off, disrupt their digestive system along with many other personality problems. As much as I said no more cats after Kit, he needed help and wouldn't have made it on his own clearly. Once I started helping Arty with a safe place to eat, it would have been mean to just stop helping him so figuring out a way around the unsavory interactions between the two.
In all seriousness, both of them chased each other up and down the back alley like 2 true tomcats, in and out of yards, across roads with no traffic concerns...all day and all night and it was loud and annoying. Also a big tip off that neither had a home at the current moment. It was probably just a matter of time until they both got run over or died of a battle infection. They just never stopped but I had suspicions it was because of stress and no home of their own. I felt up to the peace keeping challenge but with a task like this, only the spirit of Bastet could help me with this. the peace was a little disrupted during food visits but with each passing week, he got better and better. While at the vet, I got a Feliway plug in that I shared in the amazon link above that helps them with soothing pheromones. Find them on amazon too. They work quite well actually. A bit expensive but eliminates a lot of headaches.
Now Arty was more reluctant to come in having been an alley-cat for longer then the other had been alive, it's been about two weeks now that he officially lives here full time voluntarily. I could tell he had good house manners and wanted to be a sweet kitty, he was trying hard at least indoors. What got him living here? What was his kitty-melt-moment that moved him right in? As he was eating, I surprised him with a head pet, he got scared and jumped back, thought about it and started petting himself on my hand. Ever since, he's been following around the house like my biggest fan ever. Both of them.
After being told he was a good kitty, cats can understand a limited human vocabulary. Just two weeks of house comfort, his face has gotten much better, all the battle scratches had time to heal.
Disliked each other all spring and summer. Learned to tolerate each other, I have to hands, I can pet both of you. No need to fight, just each stay in your own lane. Slowly, the temperamental problems mostly disappeared between the two. They try really hard but now it seemed like they might actually like each other as bros now. Genuinely. As long as I'm in the room. The two most loyal cats ever willing to put their beef aside and call it truce. What triggered the caturday that wasn't supposed to happen. tonight, my two fluffy buddies were cuddling on each side of my arm. They take cues from each other. They even turned their aggressive back-alley headbutts into friendly head cuddles and a nose boop greeting every time one jumps on the furniture for co-cuddles with mom.
All the kinks aren't ironed out yet, with their new nap cuddle behavior and weird close approach, they both creep each other out as they get comfortable from time to time, neither are overly reactive now consciously over-riding their back-alley bad habits. I think deep down, they both wanted to be friends all along, they just didn't know how. I wondered all summer, why would they follow each other just to fight all the time? Neither wanted to be alone but had to be.
once they had their co-pets/cuddle with my arm, they both rolled over so I got up to make coffee and found out I lost my spot. Good time to grab the camera for a post.
How are street cats different from a pet that's always been in a comfortable setting? Is coaxing a street cat in distress worth the trouble? If it wants to be helped, yes. They have a different approach once they feel comfortable enough to relax. Seeing a cat belly is generally a good sign of trust. They learn quite a bit of interactions and show better loyalty with the additional street creds of taking them out of a scary environment they didn't really want in the first place. the comforts of home. A safe place. I have been a feline tamer since they were chasing me down the street when my grandma and I went for walks like an entourage. I suppose I have some kitty whispering capabilities to navigate thru this so quickly. That's why I named them Merlin and King Arthur, they were gonna need all the good juju possible to become bros. Here it is and the proof. Proof of peace. Are cats smarter then humans? Smarter than some of the current world leaders in areas we probably don't need to name. Learn to share and cooperate.
Alright do like the two stray cats turned into house sweeties, and peace out! xox