Tatters

In the beginning...

For years, the village witches have provided food, water, and shelter to the local independent felines. The population varies, and in December 2001, we noticed that a very small tortoise-shell had started to show up now and then.

One day in early December she walked up to me yelling her head off. This was the first time I had a good look at her. Wild, riotous coloring; long, rather unkempt fur; and thin. Bone-thin, rail-thin. She let me touch her, and her bones were all sharp edges underneath her skin. She was starving -- but could only take a few bites at a time, growling all the while.

When I took her in, she was hostile to every feline life form on the planet. She was also out-of-her-mind crazy. She hissed and spat at my cats every time their paths crossed. Unlike Gagme, who sauntered in the door and took over the household through sheer intimidation and charisma, Tatters had no interest in dominating the other cats. She just wanted them to not exist, and if they must exist, to do it elsewhere.

She didn't seem to have the faintest idea of how to be a domestic cat. She never really groomed herself, she had mats under her legs, and she never purred -- although she displayed, and continues to display, an extensive vocabulary of very bad words. She didn't know how to be held -- if you put her on your lap or your leg, she'd end up sliding off again. She had no idea of how to relax, how to adjust her balance.

At first, she growled almost all of the time, including when she was eating. :::grreorwreorw.snarfsnarfsnarf.reorwreorwgrrrr::: When she finally did start to purr, she'd mingle it with growling. Eventually, she hit on something that suited us both: she would throw her body onto my feet and purr as hard as she could.

At first, I let her come and go. It goes against my priciples to have an indoor/outdoor cat in the city, but Tatters was a special case. She was angry all of the time, she growled all of the time, and she had absolutely no qualms about attacking my cats when they got too close, or got between her and the food, or breathed her air. I was afraid that she was going to snap, so when she bolted for the door, I let her go and prayed that she'd come back. And she always did, thank the Goddess.

As she put on weight, she began to calm down. I had absolutely no idea that she was going into heat, because she was so quiet about it. Looking back, it explains her behaviour towards Lucifer... she started getting very close to him, which made him exceedingly nervous, and making very quiet little noises at him which he pretended not to hear. :)

Then she got out one last time and was gone for days. She came back -- vastly satisfied and soon to prove vastly pregnant.

By the time February rolled around, she had really calmed down, and had even started joining me for brief periods in bed. She was extremely skittish about being near the other cats, so she wouldn't stay for long, but she was beginning to get closer to me. And she was beginning to develop her own bizarre quirks. She had watched Lucifer clean his face against the glass door of the entertainment center several times, and I guess she figured she'd better try to fit in. One night I watched her walk up to the glass, give it a thoughtful lick, and rub her face against it, just like Lucifer. She pulled back with a look of absolute disgust on her face. This, she plainly thought, is just horseshit.

So she imitated his other bizarre trait -- nursing on my armpits. Read below.

02.07.2002

Tatters the Drooling Cat

Except drooling just doesn't convey the sheer quantity of it all. I'm laying in bed with Tatters on my bare chest. She's so happy and relaxed that her tongue is hanging out! Then :::splash!::: a drop of warm drool hits my chest. I have 5 cats, so a little drool isn't the worst thing that can happen. :::plink!::: another drop. No biggie. :::plink!::: I keep petting her. I ended up with a puddle of warm cat drool on my bare chest -- and as if that were not enough, my little freak animal then lays down next to me and starts licking my bare armpit!

As her pregnancy advanced, she became more and more mellow. Well, mellow for Tatters, that is.

03.19.2002

Tatters update

My pregnant girl is doing well. She has about 2 bad nights out of the week where she can't get comfortable, but most of the time she seems pretty content. She follows me around when I'm home -- right now she's laying at my feet propped against one of my boots -- and purrs all the time. I've got this theory that the more the mommy purrs during her pregnancy, the happier and healthier the kittens will be, you see, so I want to keep her happy. :)

She may have abandoned eating the dry food altogether, I don't know. She demands canned food twice a day, and eats nearly a full can both times. *laughs* When I brought her in, she was so hungry and thin it was pitiful, but she could only manage to eat a few bites of food at a time. God, it was so tragic. Now she muscles up to the trough and *snarf snarf snarf snarf*!

She's got quite a tummy on her -- in fact, we caught her propping herself against a wall to get to her tummy to clean it the other night. Poor baby girl. She is increasingly willing to be near the other cats in order to be near me, although they have not lessened their hostitility.

On April 5, 2002, Tatters gave birth to five beautiful kittens. The last week of her pregnancy was an incredibly happy week. She was so huge she looked like a walrus! She had to swing her back legs out to the side as she walked! I could feel the babies moving inside during the last week -- there is nothing like petting a purring cat and feeling a baby shift underneath your hand. By this time, she was allowing me to help her groom, and I started the process of finding and cutting out the mats. I also trimmed the fur on her back legs and around her butt so it wouldn't be such a mess when she gave birth.

The night before she gave birth, SwR was spending the night with me. Tatters spent the evening on the couch with us, laying on me and purring. I had my hand on her side and I felt one of the kittens (I'm convinced it was Fizzgig) turning somersaults underneath my hand. I was caught up in a rush of joy and excitement and wonder. When we went to bed, she lay between us, stretched out as far as possible, purring so hard I was surprised SwR could sleep through it.

When we woke up the next afternoon, she had retired to the closet and produced four beautiful kittens. When I got back from work, there was a fifth! No wonder she was so huge.

Tatters was a fierce and protective mother. She kept the kittens in the closet for as long as possible, and woe betide the cat who ventured even into my bedroom. Crossing the threshold of my bedroom constituted an act of war, and she responded with all of the crazed fury at her command. But never once did she treat her children with anything but tenderness. She was an amazing mother. It seemed that the kittens were nursing constantly, and it didn't take long for all of her pregnancy weight to evaporate. I put her on dry and canned kitten food immediately, but she had 5 fat vampires sucking all the life right out of her and turning her soft white belly fur into a matted mess. When I realized that, I cut out all of the mats (oh, and that was such a good time too... did I mention that she hates scissors?) and started checking her every few days. She got used to me grooming her, but she never needed help grooming her children. She kept them immaculate, even Lylly, who seemed to have a minor problem keeping her butt clean. Harley and I laughed ourselves sick at the sight of Tatters holding Lylly down and cleaning her butt while Lylly squirmed and protested (MOM! STOP IT! MOM!).

Her kittens taught her how to groom and take care of herself. And the various kittens that came through after hers were gone taught her how to play.

Tatters is now a healthy, beautiful, sleek cat who is trying to get the other cats in the household to play with her. She still has a temper, but she's learning to coexist. She and Lucifer routinely share a plate, and just the other day when he was blocking her egress from the bathroom, she lightly hopped over his head rather than beat the crap out of him. She spends a lot of time in the bedroom still, but has started to take her place on the couch as well. I do not have words for how much I love her, or for my joy in watching this foundling child flourish.