Santa Claws

Last Saturday a group of friends and I headed to the Humane Society of Hall County with bagloads of loot purchased from PetSmart to play "Santa Claws" for all the homeless animals. What a powerful experience......

I honestly cannot find the right words right now to describe what transpired that day, so I will allow the photos I took to speak for themselves.

Halloween Kittehs......

Big brother Musashi & little brother Vladimir




Mommy's little monster, Vladimir AKA the Demonic Weasel.

My canine kids...

Now that I have a new camera, I have been taking many photos of various subjects, including my furry children. Above are Akira and Achilles, my two WONDERFUL pit bulls that were adopted from our local Humane Society. Akira is our brindle and white girl, and Achilles is our mostly solid white block-head boy.
I will post a photo of Mr. Musashi, our solid black kitty rescued from a housefire as a baby, when he is completely over the cold he caught from Vladimir (most shelter animals come home with a cold or respiratory infection)....Poor Mush has a goopy eye and runny nose right now.
I just wanted to make the connection between names and faces...

Because she's white...and trashy!

No human being stands a chance against Bagheera and her camera...Muhahahahaha!!! This is a photo of my neighbor across the street, whom I have nicknamed the "Screeching Neck-Beast". Apparently the cops have been called on her (again) for whatever reason... She & her Lurch-like spouse have "hosted" our local police department on many occasions for various reasons, including having fug offspring with multiple equally fug illegitimate hellions whose daddies like to come around every now & then to cause trouble. The Neck-Beast also owns two female cats that have NOT been spayed...they are always in heat...they have litter after litter of kittens (God knows what happens to them!)...they roam the neighborhood killing birds and chipmunks that visit feeders and wildlife sanctuaries...
Needless to say, the Neck-Beast is destined to make her debut on "Cops" before long. Perhaps this is just a rehearsal. Note the yellow citation in her hand....for what, I haven't a clue...The poor cop must be a rookie because he tried to reason with her for at least twenty minutes instead of telling her to shut her screaming trap before slapping her with more citations for disturbing the peace and harrassing an officer of the law. I'm not sure if that last one is an actual charge, but any public safety officer having to face that foul beast under any circumstance deserves a medal of valor in my opinion. Give that officer a promotion!

Vladimir Tepes Chandler

Here he is, folks. The new kitty in my life... He is four months old, and he can go from sweet cuddle-bunny to super-evil-demonic-weasel in 5 seconds. He has become Musashi's little brother and Akira and Achilles' sidekick in no time at all. I will post more photos of the rest of the tribe in a day or two.

The new man in my life......

He's sleek & angular...has almond-shaped green eyes...and he is black & white. His name is Vladimir Tepes Chandler, and he's my new four-month-old kitteh. After the death of my beloved Winston, I was certainly not ready for another cat in the house. However, my big black teddy-bear kitty Miyamoto Musashi has been so lonely since the passing of his brother. For days on end (and nights, too), Musashi would pad through the house crying out in pitiful mews and howls looking for Winston. Mushi has always been a rather quiet cat until Winston's absence from our home. It dawned on me one day when I watched my pit bulls, Akira & Achilles, lying on the bed together grooming each other. Mushi needed another feline companion.

Last Sunday Super D & I visited the Humane Society of Hall County to see the available kittens. I was nervous and skeptical that our first trip would yield a candidate, however, I went into the cat ward with an open mind. I had my heart set on a little female - possibly a calico. The entire cat ward was full of kittens & a handful of adult cats. So many to choose from! So many homeless cats & kittens.....

Super D stopped at a particular cage with a skinny black & white kitten with a blue collar. A boy. No, I wanted a girl. I kept looking, finding a rather boisterous solid gray girl who didn't particularly like being held. I then scooped up a young pretty calico girl, but she seemed so timid. We needed a bold & brave kitty who could quickly get used to two big dogs in the house. Super D kept petting the little black & white boy through the cage while I made my rounds. I was convinced that none of the kittens available were right for our household...but I was also still checking out the females....

Finally, I went to the cage where the little black & white guy was putting on his best performance - the performance of a lifetime. He was headbutting the cage bars, crying out in the cutest little voice EVER, & reaching his long, skinny arm through the cage to grab us. It was as if he was saying, "I'm the one! I want you to take me home!!!" I opened the cage & picked him up........and I was instantly in love. The kitten practically wrapped his arms around my neck & head-butted my chin, purring with his little outboard motor. Super D gave me a questioning look. "He's a boy, you know." I smiled. "I know. I don't care. He's the one."

The moment Vladimir set foot (or paw) into our house, he took charge. He courageously took on the two pits when they sniffed him curiously, his sharp little daggers poised to defend himself. He also never backed down to Musashi's warning growls and hisses. Vlad quickly became the alpha animal within hours of arriving in his new home.

Vladimir is a very fitting name, for he has sharp little claws that will impale your skin (or a pit bull's jowls). He is brave and defensive. He reminds me so much of my Winston...perhaps that is why he spoke to my soul so much that day in the shelter. Vlad is also extremely affectionate and loving, and his favorite toy is the feather duster. He now curls up next to those two big dogs on the bed, and he has brought out the kitten in Musashi.

My bloody camera is on the blink or I would post a pic of the little guy here. I will soon, for I want everyone to see the new man in my life...

Tiny Warrior

He's the lion in...July. The little being that taught me about survival & forgiveness. His name is Winston Churchill Chandler and he's my 8 1/2 year old very sick kitty. Typically, my rule is not to post anything too personal here, but this is an outlet for me to honor my little feline friend and share my feelings with my fellow animal lovers here.

Win was rescued from being wedged into a small drainpipe when he was still a tiny blue-eyed infant. He could barely hold his head up without trembling, but he certainly tore into the forearms of the animal control officer that pulled him to freedom. Winston's tail was broken in three places during the removal, and now it resembles a stubby, furry "Z". I took him home from the Humane Society to "foster" him, and Super D resisted this screaming little tabby & white fuzzball at first. So did our solid black cat Musashi, who at six months old was the prince of the household. I think Mushi would have actually killed Winston, he hated him so! And Super D was completely annoyed at the way Winston could climb from ankle to shoulder in 15 seconds. I was worried about the fate of this fosterling... But within only a few days, Win worked his magic. Not only did I find Musashi playing feather-ball massacre and sleeping with the new baby (when he didn't think I was looking), but one day I came home to discover Super D asleep on the sofa. With Winston curled up on his chest. That cinched the deal. Winston had a home.

Winston Churchill was the perfect name for this little warrior. Within days he convinced Musashi that HE was the alpha. Musashi gently relinquished his position to his new brother. My older cats, Ivan and Vinnie, remained aloof dignitaries, yet they respected his fire. This unique kitten gradually grew into a very intelligent and complex adult cat. When the pit bulls came along, I witnessed something amazing. Winston and Akira grew a respectful acknowledgement for one another, and often fought for rights to claim the feathery cat toys together. But Winston and Achilles...that's a different story. You see, Winston OWNS this powerful, block-headed 90 pound pit bull. Achilles is Winston's dog. Achilles will allow Win to rub against his legs at the risk of being popped in the snout at the slightest misstep. I have actually seen Achilles try to sneak past Winston so as not to provoke him.

The most amazing quality this cat possesses is forgiveness. No cat likes to be confined, poked or prodded for any reason (I guess that goes for us all!), and most cats will disappear quickly to pout after any uncomfortable incident. Not Win! After every rabies and annual vaccinations have been injected into him, he purrs. The times we have tried to cut his toenails (or should I say time - singular - for Super D and I were close to being bled out at the carotid by Winston's furious talons), Winnie hated us until we released him. But did he run? No! He rubbed against us, his little motor idling at high speed. Win has NEVER held a grudge. He still loves us, no matter what we have to do to him. Even now...

Win is in a fight for his life over the ravages of diabetes. This disease attacked his stout little body rapidly - the first signs of onset only 2 months ago. Winston's weight decreased from his healthy 13 pounds to a pitiful 8 pounds. He became disoriented, dehydrated and lethargic. And depressed. This was not my Winston. His treatment began immediately after the diagnosis. After administering daily shots of insulin, he is still a trooper, never showing signs of anger toward us. And yet, the treatment was failing him. I was brought to my knees when I found his near lifeless body curled into a little ball in our spare bedroom Sunday morning. Musashi's cries preceding my discovery didn't seem quite right. It was as if he was trying to say, "My brother's not well! He needs help!"

Winston had experienced severe diabetic shock, and his mouth and paws were covered with the blood he had vomited all over the floor and bedskirt. Not to worry, Win. I forgive you. His eyes were not right - not Winston's usual smug gaze. They were desperate and full of pain. Super D and I scooped Win up and rushed him to our wonderful vet, who has cared for him until today. Win was so close to leaving this world for the Rainbow Bridge...

He's home now, exhausted and battered from the many vein punctures where his blood has been drawn and I.V.'s inserted. His usually beautiful coat is greasy and dull from lack of grooming, so I have brushed him to help him maintain his dignity. It hurts my heart to see such a wonderful, scrappy little survivor fight the battle for his life. I don't know what to expect in the next few days, but my Winston is a courageous little lion, much like his namesake.

--Bagheera