Foot Drama

Around two to three Sundays ago, I made the mistake of trying to referee a hissing/shouting match between my two teenage males, Prancer and Blitzen. I was hoping to avert their vocal pyrotechnics before it escalated into a feline brawl.

It was around mid to late afternoon, and the daughter and I were having a messy lunch (I was eating with my hands) when the hissing started.

Normally, I'd reach for my spray bottle containing Lysol diluted with water to use on them. They absolutely hate it when they get sprayed on, especially with Lysol. The chemical sticks on their fur and when they lick it off, it makes them sick. However, since my hands were dirty and the spray bottle was left downstairs, I had nothing to spray them with, and even if I did, I couldn't.

Then there was the problem of the younger cat, Bukbok, being right smack in the middle of the potential crossfire. Poor thing barely understood what was happening and was frozen on the spot.

Seeing that Bukbok was in danger, I tried shooing Prancer with my right foot.

The first time my foot flew in from of him, he barely budged. His focus was still on his anger and on Blitzen who was just as angry as he was (arched back, ruffled fur, dilated eyes, exposed teeth).

L: My injured foot around an hour after Prancer's bite. Notice the beginning of

the swelling. R: The culprit, looking all innocent.

The second time my foot went in front of Prancer, he went berzerk. He clamped his entire body on my foot and sank his fangs into the arch of my foot.

It took about three seconds before I managed to untangle him from my foot. The result was not much of a messy crisscross of bloody cuts from his claws but more of two deep puncture wounds from his fangs.

And dang, did it effing hurt!

After the searing pain from the bite died down, I immediately went downstairs to wash both my hands and feet, especially my injured right foot. Thirty minutes since Prancer bit me, the puncture wounds were still bleeding. I applied antiseptic to the wound but the blood just kept on washing it away. After a few more minutes of applying pressure on the wound, the bleeding finally stopped and the antiseptic stuck. But then, I developed a bigger problem.

My foot began to swell.

For the rest of the day and for several days to come, I was painfully hobbling from one place to another. I couldn't even wear shoes. The swelling reached up to my ankle.

Now I understand how painful it is when cats get wounds from fighting with each other and develop nasty abscesses. The bacteria in the saliva from Prancer's mouth immediately worked into my system and gave me an infection. No amount of antiseptics and antibiotics could make the swelling die down.

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This biting encounter reminded me of a time when I was still living with my former in-laws. They used to have a white dog which has been neglected and physically abused because "he's not cute anymore." The poor thing was just tied to a wooden post on the house's patio where he would just sit all by his lonesome. Then whenever the man of the house returned from work, the dog would be greeted with a whopping on the head of the newspaper he would always have in his hand.

I tried to befriend the dog, and he responded positively. However, he returned to beast mode whenever he was being fed.

One time, I went to the patio to give him additional food to eat. I didn't know that he still had some leftovers in his dirty food bowl. He cornered me, and gave me a good biting on my hand. The bite literally tore the flesh on my right hand, leaving a gaping wound on my palm. (Good thing I'm left-handed.) It's also a good thing that with extensive cleaning and antiseptic-washing, the wound healed on its own, and I didn't need any stitching. In fact, the wound didn't even become infected. I don't even have scars to remind me of that encounter.

However, this new bite was different because it became quite infected.

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Friends became concerned about me when I showed them my swelling foot with the angry bite marks on Facebook, (Of course, I had to share, hehe.) They recommended that I have the wound treated and that I get myself vaccinated with anti-tetanus and anti-rabies shots.

I was very confident that at most, I only needed anti-tetanus -- not the anti-rabies vaccine. Why?

- Prancer, as well as the other members of the Cat Lair, are all strictly indoor cats. They don't even get fleas.
- Prancer bit me because just like a raging bull, his anger made his mind foggy to the point that he could no longer tell the difference between Blitzen and my swinging foot -- and my swinging foot was much closer to him.
- As per anti-rabies protocol, an animal that has bitten an individual has to be observed for one week from the time the said animal bit the person. If the animal dies within the observation period, then chances of it being rabid are very high. Meanwhile, throughout the entire observation week, Prancer remained as healthy as ever. He probably didn't even remember that he freaking chewed on my foot. Darn cat was still asking for cuddles and head rubs.
- I couldn't afford the anti-rabies vaccine. As easy as that.

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To appease everyone's concern, I asked my daughter to help me in going to one of the government hospitals here in Pasig for that anti-tetanus vaccine. Things seemed okay until we got to the hospital pharmacy -- I was being charged 1.3k!

I just balked. With my daughter in tow, we turned our heels and left the hospital.

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A doctor-high school batch mate of mine quickly got in touch with me after he found out (from my Facebook post again) that I still didn't get the shots I needed. He insisted that I return to the hospital and still get, at least, the anti-tetanus shot. So fine, I did.

By the time I returned to the hospital, the swelling on my foot has generally subsided and the wounds were healing already. I showed my foot to the intern who still recommended (on paper) that I still get anti-rabies shots on top of the anti-tetanus toxoid. However, she winked at me and whispered that I didn't have to follow everything she wrote.

And thus, I finally left the hospital with a right arm that felt like it was bludgeoned with a baseball bat -- the side effect of the anti-tetanus shot. Moreover, I was almost P500 poorer.

Oh well. It did put friends' minds at ease.

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And so, we're all back to normal in the Cat Lair. Prancer and Blitzen still have their daily spats, but mostly they're just shouting matches. During times when the aggression takes a turn for the worse, I now know better than to intervene. I just show the two young males The Lysol Spray Bottle.

One look at The Bottle and they run away with their tails between them.

(#)

Disclaimer: What I did after my cat bit me was right -- up to the part where I avoided getting anti-rabies shots. What I did was pretty risky, notwithstanding the fact that Prancer is an indoor cat. If you get bitten by your pet, the immediate line of defense is to race to the hospital and get yourself both the anti-rabies and anti-tetanus shots. Also restrain the concerned animal and observe it for a week. If it dies, then you are sooo in trouble.

The Battle for the Upper Deck Bed

Squeegee getting herself propped up for the ladder climb.

My rescue cat, Squeegee, is always in a tug-of-war with my daughter for ownership of the upper deck of our double deck bed. Of course, it's the daughter's bed, but Squeegee will disagree. Among all the felines in the Cat Lair, Squeegee has the distinction of being the only cat who could use the ladder to get to Ate's bed. Not even the Queen Bee herself -- Kooky -- could replicate such a feat. In fact, if Kooky wanted upper deck time, she'd first stay on the lower deck (my bed) set her forepaws on the ladder, and look alternately at me and at the upper deck as if to say, "Get me up there, slave!"

Let sleeping cats lie -- on the upper deck.

Not Squeegee. She has conquered the double deck ladder with no human intervention. It's amazing how she would clamber up the ladder almost the same way a human child would.

What is it with the upper deck that Squeegee likes so much?

* First, after we rescued her and I rid her of fleas and dirt, Squeegee's first bed was Ate's bed. Mom was still alive that time and she was sharing the lower deck with me. That time, we were still trying to hide Squeegee from her because we didn't want her to know that we just added another rescue to our cat population.

* When I'm going about doing household chores, the upper deck is where she could literally see eye-to-eye with me whenever I passed the bed. And get my attention, she would.

* There are more pillows on Ate's bed. More pillows mean more of the soft, so...

* The bed is Squeegee's sanctuary from bullying by the other cats. Only she and Prancer can climb the bed (Prancer has less graceful means of climbing, though), and the good thing is that Prancer treats Squeegee with more love than he does his other littermates. (See video below for proof.) Thus, these two are, more or less, bedmates. (With much opposition from my daughter whose bed they're taking over.)

This being the case, Squeegee's human Ate could only do so much. She'd raise her voice at Squeegee and tell the little tortie to stop going up the bed and to leave it when she's already there. Squeegee would only look at her with tongue lolling from out of her mouth. ("You gotz a problem, Ate?") After which, she'd flop on her back and reach out to ask for cuddles. Then her Ate knows she has been defeated by kyoot overload. She just rolls to one side of the bed to accommodate the insistent little bugger.

The summer months are seeing less of Squeegee on the upper deck due to the heat in our room. However, she would still venture to the upper deck in the evenings, especially when we're around, just to solicit cuddles from us.

And thus, the battle for final ownership of the upper deck bed rages on with two cats using weapons of kyoot over the Ate's whining. May the best species win!

(#)

The Cat Lair: An Introduction

I have 14 cats (to date) in my household. All of them are indoor cats, so they basically lord it over the place.

How did I end up with 14 cats, you may ask?

My box. Go away. - Caramel

First and foremost, I rescue cats. My original Manila cat -- Caramel -- was a rescue from my old
place in Sta. Mesa, Manila. Picked her up one evening after a very heavy downpour. She was still a kitten at that time, probably around three months. Poor thing was meowing pitifully by the gutter across the street. I initially didn't want to pick her up because I previously had a painful experience with cats I adopted when I stayed in Cebu. (Long story, will probably save that for a future blog post.) Anyway, after two days of trying to ignore this kitten's cries, I finally picked it up. Her markings were barely recognizable from all the dirt and gunk on her fur. I prepared a bowl of sardines for her and the little survivor lapped it all up. Then as soon as she had her fill, she proceeded to a crate I turned into a makeshift electric fan stand, curled up, and had the first fitful sleep she probably ever had since she was discarded. A few hours later, I gave her her first-ever bath and it was there when I finally saw what a beautiful orange-and-white kitty she was with those almond-shaped eyes.

Sexy and I knowz it. - Pretty

At around the same time that Caramel arrived in my life, another feline literally barged in my room to mess my life up good. She was among the next-door neighbor's numerous cats whom I aptly christened, Pretty. She was a beautiful tortoiseshell cat with the most expressive eyes, and probably around a year old or more already when she showed up at my doorstep. When she did, she demanded that she be let in to hang out and eat with Caramel. How can I deny her after her playful head boops and her slinking on my legs? This little lady would pop in and stay for several hours at a time then go home just before lights out.

The trouble with Pretty was that she was allowed outdoors (Obvious ba?), and I would sometimes find her gallivanting with the neighborhood tomcats. Thus, she would eventually get herself pregnant. And when she would go into labor, she preferred using my space as her personal lying-in hospital for birthing. She knew that I would never hurt any of her kittens nor would I have the heart to throw them away and thus, I ended up as her free human kitten sitter.

So from a single cat, my Sta. Mesa crib turned into my first Cat Lair!

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After two more births in my room, Pretty suddenly just vanished and never visited again. I assumed that our next-door neighbor disposed of her in the nearby Pasig River. And with that, I was left to fend for myself and this explosion of feline young 'uns.

Soon enough, my litter of cats grew up and started mating with each other -- including Caramel. Since I did not plan for that many cats to come into my life, I also had no means to have them spayed or neutered. Thus, more kittens came -- only for most of them to die before they reached their first year due to inbreeding health problems. So in a way, they were also controlling their own population.

At that point, the most important thing was that Caramel and the kittens Pretty left behind had a roof over their heads, food in their bowls, clean water to drink, and all the love I could muster.

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When my family transferred to Manila in November 2013 after the deluge that was Yolanda, my Sta. Mesa room was no longer appropriate for three humans and 10+ cats. With the help of a high school batchmate, I found a townhouse in Pasig City where the owners weren't averse to lessees with pets, let alone a big litter of cats. It's situated in a part of the city where everything is accessible to us. Plus, not even Typhoon Ondoy was able to submerge the area in flood. It's definitely bigger than our old Cat Lair in Sta. Mesa, and the cats have more room to run and play in. It's perfect for a flood-traumatized family and a big family of spoiled felines.

And thus, Pasig City is now home to the bigger and better Cat Lair!

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If I'm going to enumerate all the cats that have come and gone through the Cat Lair (both the Sta. Mesa and the Pasig ones), this post will take forever to finish. For now, allow me to feature my current stable of fur-babies. Note that they have been placed in several categories:

My Elders / the Bacood (Sta. Mesa) Cats: They were born in my Sta. Mesa room. The two boys are the last of Pretty's living offspring while the girl (oops, sorry -- PRINCESS, not girl) is Caramel's only living baby.

Slick - A gray-striped tomcat with a really big head. As of the moment, he's at the top of the male hierarchy in the Cat Lair. He actually looks like your generic bedraggled stray, only cleaner and healthier. He's the only feline in the Cat Lair with piercing green eyes. My mom's initial reaction when she first laid eyes on Slick: "Kamukha ni Satanas (He looks like Satan)!" His looks do deceive, though: he's into butt-booping and curling his tail around my legs when he's in the mood for cuddles.

Those green eyes...

Yoda - Came from the same litter as Slick. Ginger and white. Also has a big head. A little more maldito than Slick but still offers butt boops and tail curls when he's in the mood. The pedophile among the males. Favors younger ladies, sometimes eventually mauling female kittens to their doom. Loves to stare at his humans and judge them. ("Sissies, ol of u hairlezz hoomins.")

I'd rather sleep than look at you sissies. - Yoda

Tart - She's much younger than Yoda and Slick but still the eldest among the Cat Lair's female feline population. She's the product of the pairing between Yoda and Caramel, which is why she proudly wears ginger and white colors on her fur. The daughter calls her a Vampire Cat because even at around three years old, she still looks like, and is the size of, a kitten. Her small body frame gave us major problems when she first went into heat. She got pregnant but when it was time for her to give birth, her birth canal was too small for her kittens to come out. The kits died eventually in her belly, and she would've kicked the bucket too if she wasn't opened up and cleaned inside. She got opened up again, this time, to be spayed once and for all. Because of these two operations, she now feels that she's fragile and needs special attention. Ergo, the Princess monicker.

Where's my tiara? - Tart

The Rescues: Caramel has since left me and gone to the Rainbow Bridge. However, two new cats have stepped into her shoes/paws (?) for being my successful rescues.

Kooky - The daughter and I were about to go around the corner to our Sta. Mesa crib when we noticed a cat inside a really small cage on the patio of our neighbor's house. Both of us know that a cage is no place for a cat so we approached it and found a forlorn Siamese kitten. The cage itself where the kitten was in was as filthy as heck. It was obvious that our neighbors had no effing idea on how to properly care for a cat so I knocked at their door and told them I wanted that kitten. The neighbor initially hesitated and was even planning on selling it to another neighbor who was more of a dog person than a cat person but I put my foot down and told them that they'll just be shortening that kitty's sad life by doing so. I offered them P500 for the kitten (then named Kinchay, yuck) and the neighbor relented. I got the kitten, bathed it, gave it good food and clean water to drink, renamed it to Kooky, brought her with the rest of the cats to Pasig, and she grew up to become the Queen of the Cat Lair.

I take over this space now, slave. - Kooky

Squeegee - I went out one evening to take out the trash when, just before I opened the gate, I came upon a small set of eyes peering at me from beside the garbage can. When I looked at it more closely, it turned out to be a little tortoiseshell kitten. I initially thought that it squeezed itself through the slots of our gate to get inside. That time, I had no intentions of adopting another outside cat after a bout with a virus brought by another stray that almost wiped out my cat population, so I just gave it some food and closed the door on it with the thought that when it had its fill, it will just squeeze itself out and be on its way. However, when I opened the door after about an hour, the little thing was still there, this time with that Puss-in-Boots stare that said, "Kind Ma'am, please let me in...please, please, please..." I let it in then noticed how it was limping on one of its hind legs. It was then when I realized that this kitten did not squeeze itself in -- it was dropped inside by some heartless soul. And just like that, this kitten became a permanent member of the Cat Lair. Her limp healed on its own, and she turned into one of the sweetest, smartest, and funniest cats I have ever encountered.

Mama...give me love... - Squeegee

The Christmas Kittens: Kooky's first litter of kittens all succumbed to that violent virus outbreak that swept through the Cat Lair in mid-2014. After that heartbreak, Kooky became pregnant again and this time, three of five survived to mature and wreak havoc in our Pasig household. And since they were born on December 26, their litter was aptly called the Christmas Kittens.

Prancer - The dominant and most gorgeous male of the litter. He's gray with blurry stripes, and with a slightly orange nose. His markings and bone structure all hint at his mestizo blood, being the son of Slick and Kooky. Has a penchant for following me around and staring at whatever it is I'm doing as if to say, "Wat dat, hoomin?" Very, VERY curious. Doesn't stop badgering me until he gets a pat of approval on his head. Will take over my lap at all cost at any time, even when I'm doing my deed on the toilet seat.

Don't mind me. Just waiting for my cuddles here. - Prancer

Blitzen - My sneezy black cat. Never fails to run upstairs to mess with me whenever I'm fixing my sheets. You think that for a black cat, he'll be justas badass as his color. Wrong. Poor guy has a high-pitched girly meow, and a body frame that's not as bulky as your regular tomcat's. (Blame it on his Siamese genes.) That's why he's usually the victim of attempted rape by the Elder males. Will jump on my shoulder and/or back for some love at any opportunity. (And this is why I will never wear off-shoulder clothes ever again.) Generously offers his belly for major rubdowns.

I iz a boy...wehhhh... - Blitzen

Vixen - The only female of the Christmas Kittens. Tortoiseshell. Her most effective job -- feline alarm clock with no snooze button. Will head-boop me until I wake up and if I still don't, will use her claws on my face, albeit gently. (Pero masakit pa rin, ha?) She has mastered the Butterfly Technique on my phone when I use it for an extended time without noticing her. Tambay ng kama ko.

You awake now? Good! Now, feed us! - Vixen

Ugly Name Kittens: So named because of...well...their ugly names. My recently-departed mom was still alive when they were born. She saw the biggest kit in that litter who was a tortoiseshell, picked it up, and cooed, "Kahusay man hini nga buranday (What a cute kit this buranday is)!" Picking up on that nickname she gave for that tortie, we decided to christen the rest of the litter with just-as-foul-smelling names.

Buranday - I wondered where that name, Buranday, came to be. All I knew was that Buranday is a pet name for young girls in Leyte. Later on, I found out that the real buranday is a fish. (Glug, glug.) Notwithstanding, the name stuck to this cute tortie who, like her predecessor (Vixen), is just as frisky and needy for lap-loving. Yes, she also invades my private time in the comfort room for lap cuddles.

I iz prettier than AteVixen. - Buranday

Bitoy - One-half of the Gray Twins. This little guy is a serious contender to Prancer's Mr. Pogi throne. Compared to Prancer, Bitoy has pronounced stripes and is a rich gray. He's just a gooey puddle of cat love. Is relentless in asking for cuddles.

Such sleep. Much wow. - Bitoy

Butchokoy - Among all my cats past and present, only Butchokoy has a theme song, complete with hip bumping. (Si Butchokoy, si Butchokoy...) Another black kitten who has a penchant for butt-bumping us when asking for noms or cuddles. Resistance is futile -- if you try to ignore him, he'll play-bite your leg into submission. Makes friends with all hoomins he encounters. Already made friends with the carpenter and the cabinet assemblers from Sta. Lucia East Mall. Will probably even make friends with potential Akyat-Bahay thugs if given the opportunity.

Friend! You haz food? - Butchokoy

Bukbok - The other half of the Gray Twins. He's the sneezier one between the two, and he has eyes that remind me of those depictions of humanoid aliens. Also noticeably sakang (bow-legged) when he was smaller. Refutably the sweetest among the Ugly Name Kittens. When Mom was already 100 percent bed-ridden after returning from the hospital, it was Bukbok who chose to snuggle in the crook of Mommy's arm. I have a feeling that he will follow in the footsteps of Tart in the sense that he won't grow as big as a regular cat, and that's fine with me. Imagine if he grows the size of a barge and still clambers all over me.

Mama, kewwy (carry) me -- NAO! - Bukbok

Paint It Black Kittens: When Kooky had this batch of kits, none of them strayed far beyond the black and gray tones.At least the first batches of kittens had a break from the black/gray mold in the form of the torties, Vixen and Buranday. They were born at the same time when a fellow animal lover was celebrating her birthday so I gave her the distinction of giving two names for anyone from the litter -- a male and a female name. The litter of five was eventually reduced to two, and they received the beautiful names given by my friend.

Muffy - The gray male of the two. Looks like the Gray Twins. Acts like them, too. Didn't have to toilet-train him anymore; he just knew where he should be doing his things as soon as he got old enough to do so.

Shhh...stop da noiz. I haz a sleep. - Muffy

Maja - The only one in the Cat Lair with markings that make her look like something the cat dragged in -- on a rainy and muddy day. But she doesn't care much about her mottled uniqueness. In fact, she's so well blended in with the rest of the cats to the point that at just a little past one month old, she was already joining the bigger cats on top of the kitchen counter in their rowdy bullying for me to feed them.

One day, my markingz shall make me famouzzz - Maja

These feline beauties, as well as their predecessors, shall be the leads in this inspiring blog about a crazy cat lady who realized that love -- the kind that lasts forever -- comes in the form of furry little packages with sharp claws.

(#)