Cat Odyssey

The Unpredictable Outcomes

noreply@blogger.com (Diana Korten (Partington)) — Fri, 20 Jul 2007 03:51:00 +0000

The interesting thing about embarking on an odyssey is that you don’t know where it will take you. As this journey has unfolded, my itineraries have changed and so have I. While I was gone, my husband discovered that he liked life better without me—that was certainly a surprise that has fundamentally changed my life. With my foundations shaken, I looked around me and have found my calling.

Two of my visits created turning points in my focus. It was sparked by a conversation with Jo Elmore the ASPCA representative in Gulfport, Mississippi. He told me about some of the innovative programs he had started while running the Humane Society in St. Thomas (Virgin Islands). St.Thomas has the highest per capita murder rate in the United States. The interior of the islands is marked by poverty and violence. Running an animal shelter in such an environment is an uphill battle. But Mr.Elmore is a non-lateral thinker. Grant funding for animal rescue can be a challenge to procure, more readily available is grant money for under-privileged children’s programs. He got funding to start a children’s summer camp at the shelter, teaching the kids Humane Education, keeping them occupied and engaging them in positive, compassionate interactions with the animals. This program gave rise to an internship program for high school students, getting them more involved in the shelter.

Mr.Elmore is a deeply egalitarian man. He sees that the animal rights movement is dominated by upper middle class white people (himself included). This concern gave rise to creating a scholarship program for the students that complete the internship program. Any of those interns that want to attend college to study an animal related field (like zoology, ethology, veterinary medicine or even some more tangentially related topics) are eligible for a scholarship program to help them pay for college.

Another incredible innovation (that I haven’t heard of anywhere else), included a Trap-Neuter Return program for feral cats operated by a group of At-Risk Youth. This program was funded by the United States Justice Department as part of its gang prevention programs. Essentially, the program involved recruiting young people who were considered at risk for gang involvement, teaching them about Humane animal practices, including locating feral cat colonies, trapping the cats, getting them vaccinated and fixed at the shelter, then releasing them and working with the community to create managed cat colonies.

These youth were particularly well situated and street savvy enough to meet the challenges of some of the tricky neighborhoods where many feral cat colonies exist. The program capitalizes on the ‘hunting’ style excitement of capturing wild cats, but then directs that energy toward positive change for the cats and the community.

I interviewed Mr.Elmore just a few days after my disturbing experiences trapping cats in New Orleans—and found his ideas to synthesize solutions with my concerns. (See my post entitled New Orleans: The Radical Ladies of TNR, April 2007.)

Of course, at that time, my focus was still squarely on the cats. However, when I told my father about these programs, he saw the programs as an incredible opportunity to help reconnect children with nature and other living beings, basically an opportunity for rehabilitation for the children that also benefits the animals.

With this in mind, I embarked on my trip to Indiana State Prison. (See my posts about the Prison Visit in May 2007.) My experience there was exhilarating—experiencing how much their connection with their cats had transformed the lives and personalities of the inmates.

The result of all of this is a major change in my life plans.

I had been planning on going to Veterinary Technician training in the fall. In preparation for opening a Cat Retirement Home a couple of years down the road. However, the divorce and impending loss of my husband’s income from my life means that a risky entrepreneurial business venture, coupled with a two-year degree whose starting salary in a vet’s office is only $10 an hour, has caused me to rethink that plan. In doing so, I believe I have found my calling.

In the fall, I will be returning to school to work towards an advanced degree in human psychology with an emphasis in Pet Assisted Therapies. In addition to enrolling at local University, I am also doing the Delta Society training for Pet Assisted Therapy partners. What interests me most is the possibility of doing research and developing programs that help to heal people through rehabilitating animals, or at the very least caring for animals in a very reciprocal manner. This idea is catching hold in prisons across the country and I want to participate in it.

Additionally, I see opportunities for this kind of work to help heal returning soldiers and others who suffer from PTSD—or to help intervene and prevent the onset of PTSD.

Perhaps, down the road, instead of establishing a Retirement Home for Cats, that is strictly focused on the cats, the idea can be expanded to include a retreat center for soldiers and others in need of Pet Assisted Therapy.

The possibilities in this field are just beginning to open up as the human relationship to our companion pets and the natural world changes and evolves.

noreply@blogger.com (Diana Korten (Partington)) — Wed, 11 Jul 2007 04:55:00 +0000

Reciprocity and the Union with Other

My friend Dana asked me why cats have made such a difference in my life in the past few years. “Why now and not before?”

I have always loved cats, kept cats, rescued cats. But something about the relationship changed fundamentally when I started studying them with the goal of true understanding. But when Dana asked the question, I couldn’t quite pinpoint why that changed ME so much. Why does understanding cats change my ability to get on an airplane, or have a relationship with my father? The two things seem so unrelated.

Then I read some of Mark Beckoff’s perspective on his study of animals. He explained that when he was studying coyotes, he learned to see the world through their eyes. He experiences this kind of immersion with the world of each animal that he studies. Now, Mark Beckoff is a famous ethologist and he didn’t mention anything directly relating to a transcendent event during his studies, but I wonder if this study of animals isn’t almost like a shamanic journey for the mystically challenged.

I have been told of profoundly moving mental and spiritual shamanic journeys that people have had with horses, bears and wild cats. Their souls journeying in unity with their spirit animal. This is a powerful tradition in many of the spiritual medicines of ‘first peoples’. I have tiptoed into this world, nervous and skeptical, but never fully understood it.

Most profound spiritual experiences involve a sense of merging with other. Whether its God or the earth or a community of people, or a releasing of the mind through meditation or prayer, there is a release from self that happens, an expansion into Other.

Perhaps on a less mystical level, the experience of working to view the world through the eyes of another animal—the investigation, understanding and love of another species allows a transformation within a person similar to spiritual transformation, but more empirical.

Interestingly, during my interviews with one of the inmates at Indiana State Prison, James Stone said to me, “Some people come here and find Islam, some find Baptism, and some of us find cats.” I don’t think he was defining cats as a sort of religion, but rather a transformative experience equal to the religious kind that happens for some—a different way of finding union with Other.

Why do the men in prison have such a profound relationship with their cats? First of all, there is little that is casual about prison—thus their relationships with their cats are not casual. Secondly, they spend an incredible amount of time with their cats. I found that most of them had instinctively responded to their cats needs, setting up their cells as though they had all been advised by a cat behaviorist. With little else to do or focus on, they have become keen observers of the cat. Perhaps without deliberate intention, they had experienced the kind of immersion that Mark Beckoff experiences when he studies a species.

During one of my interviews at Best Friends with the director of Humane Education there, she mentioned “Reciprocity” as crucial to the rehabilitative relationship. “The danger in recognizing the healing abilities of animals—in accepting that they can help rehabilitate people, is that it will become just another way that humans use animals. For the relationship to be truly healing, it has to be reciprocal, benefiting the animal as well as the human.” I think this has been crucial to my own experience as well, by coming to understand cats better, I have been better able to serve them. Improving their lives has contributed to my sense of opening, release from self-obsession and the ability to accept the gifts of joy that cats have brought to my life.

Another inmate at Indiana State Prison spoke vehemently, “There are so many guys in prison here that would do anything for their cats. there are guys in prisons all over the country that would benefit from a program like this, and yet they aren’t allowed to take care of cats, while at the same time there are millions of cats being killed every year because no one wants them. It seems like we should be able to help each other—many of those cats could be taken care of and loved.” Sitting in his cell, just two floors beneath the death row inmates, it was clear that the realities of death row were quite prescient to him—whether it be death row for humans or death row at any of the many shelters around the country. This man clearly recognized the significance of the reciprocity of the rehabilitative relationship.

noreply@blogger.com (Diana Korten (Partington)) — Sun, 08 Jul 2007 05:32:00 +0000

Ben chose my daughter, April. She was only three at the time. Five years later she is just starting to understand how special that is. This handsome tomcat was probably about a year old when our neighbor, Peggy, found him in the parking lot of a Marriot hotel. She brought him home to join her menagerie of rescued kitties. Being the jovial sort, he immediately endeared himself to the neighborhood. Each day, when April and I would go for our afternoon stroll, Ben would follow us. He adored April, rubbing and purring on her, tripping her little legs so that she would land on her bottom and he could nuzzle her hair. At first, I tried to discourage him from following us. I was terrified that he would get lost. But he was very clever and insistent. So we were just very careful about crossing streets and I would pick him up whenever a car approached, making sure that he returned safely home at the end of the walk.

But Ben’s obvious ardor for April grew—he insisted upon visiting her in our home, wanting to join her for naptime (much to the chagrin of my other cats!) Finally, Peggy declared that Ben was clearly meant to be April’s cat and she released from any claim to him. We were delighted! And immediately took our virile boy to the vet to be neutered.

He indulged April’s every whim, letting her dress him up in doll clothes and push him around in a stroller. He comforted her through tears and tantrums. Even now, when my highly emotional daughter will embark on one of her rages—I can call Ben, and our self-taught ‘pet assisted therapy cat’ will trot to her side, comforting and calming her until the episode is over.

He purrs for all of us—but he reserves his ‘cheetah purr’ for April. Late at night, when Ben and April lay with their heads on the same pillow, I will waken on the other side of the house to the loud pulse of his deep, resonant purr—his April purr that sounds just like a Cheetah.

I tell her how unique it is to be truly chosen by a cat the way that Ben chose her. She doesn’t fully understand, but she does love and cherish him. The other day she asked me how long Ben would live? I told her that we feed him only the best food and take excellent care of him in the hopes that he will live a long time, perhaps long enough to see her off to college. It is possible. I certainly hope so.

Best Friends, Kanab, Utah: Visiting Dribbles

noreply@blogger.com (Diana Korten (Partington)) — Sat, 30 Jun 2007 16:41:00 +0000

I am a sucker for an affectionate cat. As the days pass, I migrate from cat house to cat house, seeking out my favorite felines. As I mentioned before, my fondness for Dribbles was only handicapped by his very messy backside, but the caregivers have clued me into a work-around. If I visit the Kitty Motel after lunch, when the staff is washing up the backsides of the Incontinents, I can swaddle his freshly laundered bottom and thoroughly enjoy the sweet smelling, well maintained upper half of this loving cat. Oh Dribbles! xxxooo

Best Friends, Kanab, Utah: A Symphony of Remembrance

noreply@blogger.com (Diana Korten (Partington)) — Thu, 28 Jun 2007 16:33:00 +0000

All day the sun bleaches the canyon. But as the moon rises, it coaxes burnt sienna and red umber from the cliffs. Shadows and twilight’s blues awaken the textures of the canyon. An evening breeze sweeps up the hillside and across Angel’s Rest, inviting hundreds of chimes to release their song.

Each chime was hung in remembrance of a pet’s passing. As the wind changes course, the symphony spreads across the cemetery. It curls around the juniper trees, then catches a chime, one here, another one further off, and then a whole stand of slender pipes that sway against each other like the dance of a hundred souls.

Out of concern for the wildlife, flowers are forbidden. Instead, the gravesites are festooned with frayed collars and pretty stones.

This is a place where a person can sit and cry and feel joy and revel in their memories or just not think at all, absorbing each musical note as a legacy of the loves and lives held safely here at Angel’s Rest.

Best Friends, Kanab, Utah: Reconsidering Incontinence

noreply@blogger.com (Diana Korten (Partington)) — Tue, 26 Jun 2007 16:19:00 +0000

There are several ‘suites’ at Best Friends dedicated to incontinent cats. Surprisingly, I found many of these leaky cats the most captivating in the sanctuary.

Zander had me in fits of giggles as he climbed all over my shoulders and arms, shellacking my hair with his copious drool. He balanced his bulky body by winding his back legs around my arms and grasping tightly, while he explored my face with his own.

Dribbles is another shoulder riding cat, however his particular bowel dysfunction persuaded me to decline that level of intimacy (I’m a pretty earthy girl, but…) However, this charming tuxedo won me over with his abundant head butting, rubbing his whiskers and mouth against my cheeks and chin.

Dilly is much less approachable, but this young cat earned my respect through her strength and determination. Paralyzed, she drags her stiff hind legs behind her, but manages to scale any cat tree with claw and muscle—just using her front paws. As she thrusts her torso over the edge of the platform, a large splat of urine flies to the floor, but Dilly ignores this, settling into a bit of displacement grooming.

Entering the lobby of another cat building, I am enthralled by the enthusiastic greeting I receive there. Scooter, a handsome black cat who lost both of his hind legs to a car accident, literally scoots on two front paws, sliding his hinny on the smooth, slick floor, as he hurries to be the first to bask in the attention of any visitors that open the door. He purrs and rubs against me in triumph.

His buddy, a fluffy, gray cat is slowed in his scooting by the two immobile hind legs he drags behind him, but manages to arrive quickly and commandeer one of my hands for his own portion of stroking and rubbing.

Some cats have higher thresholds for touch than others. Given the time, I love to engage a cat in affection until it walks away, polite, but finished.

I don’t think Scooter has such a threshold, it seemed that I could have spent the entire day praising and petting him and he never would have tired of the attention.

Another pair of favorites, Cashew and Pella have been adopted and will be going home in a few weeks. Both born without eyes, this brother and sister seem to have an intuitive ability to seek out and find any welcoming laps. As soon as I sit, the five year old blind siblings come running and deftly leap onto my thighs. Cashew settles there, while Pessa climbs up higher wanting to be held like a human infant when it is being burped. Both are highly inquisitive, captivated by the Peek-A-Prize toy, batting at the numerous balls and tiny pillows that they can reach between the holes. I have never seen other cats react so enthusiastically to the Peek-a-prize when there weren't treats in it.

Best Friends Sanctuary, Kanab, Utah: Cleaning Up

noreply@blogger.com (Diana Korten (Partington)) — Mon, 25 Jun 2007 23:22:00 +0000

“The turn over here is pretty high.” One Best Friends caregiver confides. “I think people come here and find out that they don’t love animals as much as they think they do.”

The majority of the work here is cleaning. Poop scooping, litter box disinfecting, mopping, sweeping, dishes, laundry…an endless list of chores required to maintain hygiene and the physical needs of the animals.

In the “Incontinental Suite”, women wash the bottoms of cats who can’t attend to themselves. Little cats with neurological disorders, whose feet splay and tumble like toddlers on roller-skates, squirt streams of urine across freshly laundered bedding and newly scrubbed walls and floors. The fabrics are scooped up and deposited on the hilltop of soiled linens next to the continuously running washing machine.

Volunteers, many of them in their early teens, traipse through the buildings lavishing the cats with affection while the staff scurries to keep their charges clean, fed and appropriately medicated.

There are plenty of politics and stresses between staff members, human resources and other management. Like asking a large group of people from vastly different backgrounds , education and experience to parent a child by consensus, the low-level discord is inevitable. “The thing to remember is that Best Friends is a corporation.” One caregiver reminds me.

For all the challenges of working for a large corporation, there are benefits (health insurance for one!) “I had my own cat rescue for 10 years, as well as working a secretarial job. I LOVE it here. I get to spend all my time with the cats. I don’t have to fundraise, worry about money, or feel dread about what messages I’m going to find on my answering machine when I get home. I just get to take care of the cats all day.” Explains another caregiver who has been a Best Friends for over two years.

“I have never had less money, or a smaller place to live—but I’ve also never been happier.” Another employee beams as she unpacks hundreds of cans of cat food, stacking them on a shelf.

(This is Toshiba, the infamous paper towel shredder. One caregiver told me that even when the paper towels are carefully concealed in a bucket, staff have been know to arrive in the morning to find his entire suite covered in shredded paper towels. Toshiba will greet them sweetly as though he has no idea what has gone on here, but the fact that his fur is covered in paper towel fibers and scraps gives him away every time.)

Best Friends, Kanab, Utah: The Haj

noreply@blogger.com (Diana Korten (Partington)) — Sat, 23 Jun 2007 00:48:00 +0000

The red earth splendor of the canyon walls swoop toward the crisp blue sky. Tough scrubby plants of sage and chaparral push out of the parched clay earth. Nature’s own xeri-scaping imbues the entire sanctuary with beauty.

Tasteful and inconspicuous, amidst this desert rapture, buildings and the gentle influence of human landscaping contribute to my sense of uplift. All 30,000 acres of this canyon forms the Mecca for every animal lover. Home to over 1800 previously unwanted animals, over 400 human employees tend to them, accompanied by countless volunteers.

This is the Best Friends Animal Sanctuary. The largest sanctuary dedicated to the care and rehabilitation of companion animals, including cats, dogs, horses, bunnies, parrots, pigs, goats and a few others.

I had planned this trip long before I had any inkling that my husband of ten years was planning to leave me. I arrived here fresh from the battleground of marriage dissolution, not having any idea how profoundly lucky I am.

I spent the day touring the enormous facility. Climbing into a shuttle with 11 other people for the general tour, we visited the cat community and doggie ‘subdivision’ briefly. Then I took a separate ‘pot-bellied’ pig tour, followed by a delicious, gourmet vegetarian lunch (just $4!) at Angel’s Village. After lunch, I enjoyed some mutual head-bobbing and squawking with the cockatoos and African grays of the bird house, and then, as I strolled down the graveled road the leads from the birds to the bunnies, looking out at the breathtaking vista, happiness welled up within me, ballooning and fanning out from my body so that it filled the entire cradle of this canyon. And I existed seamlessly in love.

The world is so much larger than my divorce, my ego (or even my husband’s ego.) My soul rejoices that at this moment, in this place, I inhabit a world where the love between humans and their animals companions has manifested in this cheerful, practical place.

After a brief visit with the bunnies, I returned to the cabin that I am renting from Best Friends for the next 12 days. Awaiting me in my room is K.C. The housekeeping staff has provided my ‘sleep over buddy’ with a litterbox, scratching post, food and water, a big bag full of cat toys and a cozy cat bed..

When I open the door, , KC stands amidst my pillows, stretches and jumps off the bed to greet me.
(K.C. at the bat--during one of our play sessions in my room at Best Friends.)

Angel's Gate, Long Island, New York: Sweet Evangeline

noreply@blogger.com (Diana Korten (Partington)) — Mon, 18 Jun 2007 02:26:00 +0000

(Please see my April 2007 posts about the Cajun Cats for the back story on how I found Evangeline in Louisiana and how she was fortunate enough to get placed with Angel's Gate in New York upon learning that she had Feline Leukemia.)

Pulling up in front of Angel's Gate, the sanctuary seems like just another affluent, sprawling Long Island home. The only clue to its mission is the small dog ramp that rests on the front stairs. Susan Marino, the founder of Angel's Gate met me at the door. "Let's go around the back way." She suggested, pushing back a bevy of curious dogs.

She knew I was here to visit Evangeline and led me immediately to the Feline Leukemia cabin. "She has a bad cold. It started yesterday, so I was about to pull her from the cabin and put her in intensive care." Oh dear. I worried. Sweet Evangeline, the little tuxedo manx that had spent several nights curled up in my hotel room bed in New Orleans. I was grateful that Angel's Gate had been able to take her, since for so many cats Feline Leukemia is a death sentance.

But not at Angel's Gate, the nations first recognized animal hospice, dedicated to helping sick and injured animals finish out their lives with dignity. Two volunteers sat with the Feline Leukemia cats when we entered, lavishing these loving felines with attention. I recognized poor little Evangeline immediately. She looked miserable, with runny eyes and a disheveled coat--a stark contrast from the rest of the leukemia cats, whose bright spirits and good health were a delight. "With the Feline Leukemia cats, some of them die within the first month of arriving--but if they get through that, they usually live for years with very good quality of life. In Evangeline's case, some sanctuaries would just let her cold run its course, but not here. I treat every animal as though it were a human child, giving it the appropriate medications and keeping it as comfortable as possible, with much hope for healing." Susan Marino is a retired pediatric nurse and she puts all of her skills to use at the hospice.

We brought Evangeline to the intensive care unit. "I like using the nebulizer for upper resperatory infections, that way the saline helps clear out their nasal passages and lungs, plus the anti-biotic goes straight to their resperatory system. Its the same thing we used to do for the children in ICU." She places Evangeline in a small box after hooking up the sterile medical equipment. For ten minutes the manx breathes her medication and seems to perk up. After she finishes receiving her antibiotic, Susan administers some IV fluids. "Just like Anitra Frazier, I am a big believer in giving these cats fluids--even for a cold. It really helps them."

Usually, all the cats at Angel's Gate eat a raw food diet that is ground by a butcher especially for them, 50% organic chicken meat and 50 percent organic bones. To that Susan adds 10% grated organic vegetables, colostrum, and a high-protein blend called "Sea-Cure"--as well as other herbal and homeopathic remedies as needed for the cat's condition. However, when a cat is feeling as poorly as Evangeline, she will offer up a prescription diet. She settles Evangeline into her cozy kennel with an offering of wet canned food. After the nebulizer and the fluids, Evangeline has gained an appetite and she relishes her food.

After she eats, she dedicates herself to some grooming--she does look much better already. "I will keep her in the ICU until she is all better. Using the nebulizer two times a day, giving her fluids as needed. I'm sure she'll pull through."

And then it happens. For the first time since I have arrived, Evangeline looks at me invitingly. I reach out to pet her. As I stroke her, she begins to purr and knead at the faux sheepskin that covers the her cage floor. I believe that she remembers me as I whisper sweet nothings to her. "Look at you--a little cajun swamp cat getting Park Avenue nursing care. I am so glad for you Little Evangeline. I hope you are feeling better. Aren't you a lucky girl to be here. Susan is taking such good care of you."

It is hard to leave her again. Especially when she is feeling so poorly, but after half an hour of cuddling Evangeline and visiting with Susan, I know that Susan has alot of other animals to tend to. In other parts of the main house, I got to cuddle with the FIV cats in their special room, and visit a large bathroom that houses several diaper clad cats, as well as meeting the twitchy cats with neural disorders that hangout in the bird room. So many cast off kitties, eager for affection and attention.

"All of the animals here are loved." Susan assures me. The entire place is immaculate and smells like cleaning solutions. "We clean constantly--I am a big believer in scrubbing things down. We don't take any short cuts. The comfort of the animals is our top priority."

Angel's Gate employs some full time staff, including two vet techs. They also depend on some wonderful volunteers and others who are serving out community service sentances. Money is always an issue. My dear, generous friend, Karen, is paying for Evangeline's expenses. But there are plenty of other cats, dogs, horses, geese and others that need support. "Right now I have several animals waiting for important surgeries, so we keep sending out the fundraising letters and making appeals on television and radio. It usually works out, but I can tell you, there are plenty of times when Vic(her husband) and I are living on pasta so the animals can have everything they need."

So what drives Susan to do all this work, day after day? "Its the animals." She says succinctly. "Responding to their needs is a spiritual experience. For me, it is always about the animals."

New York, New York: Chasing the Gentle Cat Groomer

noreply@blogger.com (Diana Korten (Partington)) — Mon, 18 Jun 2007 01:58:00 +0000

Most pet groomers won’t even think about grooming a cat. Those that do often resort to a combination of force and restraints to subdue a cat—some also don Kevlar sleeves and even face masks as protection. They speak wearily of cat bites and other injuries. It is a tough business.

Enter Anitra Frazier. 30 years ago, she was working for a veterinarian who sent her out to make cat grooming house calls, armed with nothing more than a comb and a pair of dissecting shears. She knew nothing about scruffing cats or any other methods of restraint. She had never groomed dogs, so she didn’t apply dog grooming methods to her cat grooming. She proceeded to develop a completely unique and very gentle method of cat grooming, that incorporates the cat’s guardian as a soothing assistant and focuses on keeping the cat relaxed and comfortable.

Her famous bestselling book “The Natural Cat” is about to be released in its third edition. In the book she describes the techniques she uses. But most of the book is dedicated to feline nutrition, because as a groomer she discovered that the true key to a great coat is nutrition.

Anitra invited me to spend a couple of days observing her, so that I could gain a deeper understanding of her techniques. It is one thing to read about gentle cat grooming—and another thing entirely to witness her in action.

For two days I chased after her as we traversed Manhattan from top to bottom and even detoured in Brooklyn. She is a wonder. At seventy years old, she is fast and fit, and definitely a challenge to keep up with.

She doesn’t use electric clippers or any other methods of shaving a cat. “I never do a lion clip. The poor cats look ridiculous. Its embarrassing for them. Plus the shaving is terrifying for them—and often painful. No, my job is to show the cat that grooming is a pleasure. I will never hurt them. I speak to them, offering positive mental pictures.” She cooes her examples. “Now my dear, this is going to feel so good and you are going to look so beautiful. Isn’t it lovely to be clean? I’m going to take out this uncomfortable little matte—there you go, now doesn’t that feel better? Now I am going to do the same thing on the other side, and won’t that feel good?” Her specialty for long-haired cats is the very attractive Teddy Clip, their fur cut down to about ½ inch long with scissors.

She breaks every common rule of grooming, holding the cat close to her body, helping it feel safe and secure. She uses as little restraint as possible, often seeming not to control the cat at all, but cutting fur and combing whatever part of the body that the cat presents to her. Yet she is managing the cat, “Don’t ever let the cat escape, it is important that they learn that the groomer will let them go when the session is done.” Sometimes the session is done before the cat’s coat is finished. “I can always come back another time. This is why I charge by the hour rather than the job. It isn’t worth stressing the cat to finish the coat. Sometimes we get it all done. Sometimes just one half.”

As the cat tires of the grooming session, Anitra calls on the cat’s guardian and trusted companion to distract the cat with love talk and stroking to the head. This is incredibly effective and I watched as one cat after another responded to this calming contact, closing their eyes and acquiescing to more grooming.

“With some of these cats it took them a long time to understand how wonderful it is to be groomed. They had had a bad experience with another groomer—or some other trauma and it took a lot of time to develop trust. But then they learn the routine and some of them start to enjoy it.”

Anitra also provides holistic nursing for geriatric cats. We visited one cat that is suffering from kidney failure. Anitra visits three times a week to administer sub-cutaneous fluids. “I think that sub-cutaneous fluids are terribly underused. I offer fluids anytime a cat is going off its food, or its coat seems dry. Sometimes that little pick me up can really make a huge difference for the cat. It doesn’t have to be a lot of fluids just 100 cc’s can make all the difference sometimes. It is so easy for cats to become dehydrated. Especially on these dry food diets that everyone is so fond of.” She tsks. “I tell all my clients to get their cats on a raw food diet—ground organic beef, with calcium added and some shredded vegetables—that will make a huge difference in how much grooming they need—as well as their overall health. I also like to garnish the raw meat with a little bit of PetGuard wet food—for palatability. With cats its all about Taste, Texture and temperature. If they don’t like something, try warming it or adjusting what vegetables you ad. Some cats like the sweeter vegetables like a good baked squash—while I have known other cats that would kill for a bit of chopped asparagus in their dinner.”

This diet has an amazing effect on her client's coats. The Persians' fur was as light as air, silky puffs of fluff, making the groomer's job much easier.

Wolf Park, Battle Ground, Indiana: The Mouths of Wolves

noreply@blogger.com (Diana Korten (Partington)) — Sun, 17 Jun 2007 04:25:00 +0000

Caesar Millan (the Dog Whisperer of National Geographic fame) is often the bane of my cat consultations. “I’m doing everything just the way Caesar Millan says, I’m using calm assertive energy and showing my cat that I am the leader of the pack.” His methods are deeply imbedded in the psyches of those that enjoy his show—and they are a source of much controversy in the dog training world, but simply put, they are all wrong for cats.

Because both dogs and cats are predators and can live companionably with humans, people sometimes treat cats like dogs. And yet they are completely different species. The Cat family evolved in the Old World (Europe and Africa primarily), while the canine and wolf families originated in the New World (North and South America). True, over thousands of years some cats migrated to the New World and some Wolves migrated to the Old World (primarily over the ice bridges of the Bering Straights, I am told.) In many ways they fill the same niche—but they are built entirely differently. A cats claws and teeth combine as formidable hunting tools allowing most kinds of cats to hunt alone, while most wolves need to hunt in packs for optimal survival (to bring down big prey.) Cats are not pack animals.

Because most people know so much more about dog behavior than cat behavior, sometimes it helps to contrast the two. But I don’t relate well to dogs or understand them, so I visited a Nashville area dog trainer to try to learn more about dog behavior. I asked her, “In my cat books, they say that one reason that discipline doesn’t work with a cat (unlike a dog), is that the cat is a solitary hunter—if a cat spoils its own hunt, the cat is the only one that loses. But with a pack animal—like dogs—the alpha male will discipline the dog that makes the mistakes. Is that true? Do they really do that? Also, cats are known for congregating for social purposes that include mating, but their interest in companionship is not based on survival—while a dog is dependent on the pack for survival and that is the basis of the distinct personality difference between the independent cat and the subservient dog—is that true?”

Unknowingly, I had stepped right into the middle of the great dog debate. There are (at least) two dog camps: the Positive Reinforcement school (using positive reinforcement to shape behavior, commonly referred to as ‘Clicker Training’) vs. the Dominance Theory of dog training (such as the famed Caesar Millan, who works to establish himself as the Alpha leader of the pack, using appropriate discipline etc..) My assumptions about dogs drew from the Dominance theory, while I was interviewing a clicker trainer. She kindly declined the interpretations of dog behavior that I had presented and instructed me, “If you really want to understand the roots of dog behavior, you should take a class at Wolf Park.”

Wolf Park! (www.wolfpark.org ) What a marvelous detour on my cat odyssey. Immediately I signed up for their ‘Weekend Wolf Intensive”—three days of education about wolf behavior and interaction with real, live wolves!

When I mentioned that I was going to Wolf Park to gain a better understanding of dogs, several people assured me that the two species were, in fact, unrelated and quite distinct: Lupus vs. Canine, but according to the ethologists at Wolf Park, this controversy may have been cleared up by DNA and other research. For starters, Wolves and domestic dogs have identical DNA, and they can mate and produce fertile young.

Another piece of interesting evidence is a 50 year research project done in Russia that quickly simulated the same results that probably took many thousands of years to occur naturally. In the experiments with Silver foxes, the foxes were divided and bred exclusively for their sociability to humans. Through the generations of foxes that became increasingly friendly and well adapted to human companionship, the animals underwent a physical transformation that was NOT being selected for: their tails curled, their ears flopped and their coats became spotted. Similar experiments in rats and rabbits (selected for their friendliness with humans) produced similar physical traits.

Based on these and other evidence, the currently accepted conclusion is that our modern domestic dog is a descendent of the wolf. As humans settled into an agrarian lifestyle, they created garbage dumps, during times of scarce prey, wolves would scavenge those dumps. The wolves that habituated most easily to humans would have had a higher success rate, thus surviving to breed pups that also adapted well to humans.

The difference between dogs and wolves? Dogs have adapted so well to humans—and humans to dogs, that some researchers see the evolution of humans and dogs as linked. Dogs see humans as part of their pack. While Wolves see humans as distinct and different from themselves. According to the staff at Wolf Park, “We learned that we were much safer when we accentuated our differences, rather than trying to integrate into the pack. I think the wolves here think of us like highly productive pets, who provide food—and are marvelous groomers, but we exist outside of the pack structure. The advantage being that we exist outside of the constant awareness and struggle for place in the pack heirarcy. Simply put, our skin is too fragile to be tested regularly.”

The boisterous wolves pounce on each other, growling and rolling. It seems that consciousness of their ranking pervades their every waking minute. But their hierarchies are changeable and function differently in different packs.

Although there are behaviors that are consistent from pack to pack, each pack is made of individual personalities that coalesce to create a specific culture—much like we see in different cat communities. The culture of the pack may be determined by the personality of the Alpha male. At Wolf Park, the staff speak loathingly about the days when Renki was the Alpha. “He was such a bully, the pack was in constant conflict.” Finally, he was overthrown when the rest of the pack of six ganged up on him. Tristan emerged as the Alpha male, much to everyone’s joy, because Tristan doesn’t rule by brute force. “Some wolves just have that personality. Something about the way they carry themselves commands respect—they don’t have to prove their strength daily. Just like some human leaders, the pack just follows.”

The wolves contact with each other is overwhelmingly oral. And it strikes me that this is a strong distinction between cats and dogs. Cats engage in a nose to nose sniff in greeting, then perhaps a head butt or cheek rub and a good whiff of each other’s tushies, but wolves engage in mouth to mouth, well lathered greetings involving tongues and teeth. As I observed them at the park, it seemed that they were constantly in each others mouths.

In fact, they were also very intimate with my mouth. We were instructed to let the wolves kiss us, as this is a friendly way to interact with them. When we entered their pen, I positioned myself next to a large log. Kailani (the alpha female by virtue of being the only female in this pack) leapt onto the log and extended her long nose to sniff me. I avoided direct eye contact (very rude with cats and wolves), but offered her my face to sniff. Immediately her tongue was working its way all over my mouth, wet nose probing too. It was very gratifying, but I drew away as she became more excitable. Later, she approached me again, as I sat on a different log. This time her greeting was so enthusiastic that she nibbled on my lower lip before I pulled away. Her kisses left my lips lightly damp and very salty because of the dog treats she had just eaten.

Not being overly fond of being licked, it was clear that this is another reason I relate better to cats than dogs. A level of oral contact that I (frankly) consider highly excessive is a natural part of canine/lupus communication—and a very important one too. Yes, its true, cats engage in mutual grooming—and in fact, I even enjoy the exfoliated effect of a bit of cat grooming on my hand—but I don’t like being slobbered on.

I also found the wolves constant angling for position exhausting to watch. Most cats exist in fluid hierarchies that operate more like time-share arrangements—though occasional personality clashes may cause discord in a particular home. With the canine family, each pack has an institutionalized structure, which may have its own quirks from pack to pack, but none the less, the hierarchy is obvious and crucial to their social organization--very different from cats.

The ranking of the pack became very clearly, very quickly. Tristan stayed out of most of the wrangling, benevolent Alpha that he is, though occasionally he might step in to break up a conflict. The wrestling and ritualized (not dangerous) aggression between the 2nd and 3rd in the hierarchy—particularly with regard to Rudy, the omega wolf, was persistent. It was clear that humans wouldn’t stand a chance (as pack members) in an environment of constant testing.

What I learned seemed to indicate that both the positive reinforcement folks and the dominance theory folks have some insight into the nature of the dog/wolf. There is no question that wolves organize themselves in dominance hierarchies, and that, according to the many years of experience at Wolf Park, positive reinforcement is crucial to shaping their behaviors to be compatible with their human handlers. With dogs, that same hierarchy has been adjusted to include humans, and watching the wolves, it seems that being a benevolent alpha (with calm, assertive energy, like Tristan) is essential to managing a dog, but that positive reinforcement is clearly the key to unlock many beneficial behaviors in the human/canine relationship.

Did I get answers to the questions I had originally posed to the dog trainer? Sort of.

No, the alpha wolf doesn’t ‘discipline’ a pack member that messes up the hunt. In fact, 9 out of ten attempts to bring down prey fail. In a given pack, some of the older wolves won’t even participate in the hunting, though they do get to partake of the meat. An Alpha male isn’t necessarily the best hunter, he may have other qualities that make him the leader.

One of the great benefits of visiting Wolf Park is observing the Wolf/Bison demonstration. Of course, a wolf’s preferred prey is an elk or deer, but Bison is another prey that have been integral to the wolves existence. We watched two wolves attempt to snag a calf from a herd of Bison. Mostly, we watched the young ‘punk’ Bison males chase off the wolves. A wolf is no match for the powerful Bison, clearly to take down such a prey takes the power of a pack.

In their hunt, wolves are very different from humans, who usually prize the strongest member of a herd. Wolves test and watch for the weakest animal in the herd, they work to separate that animal from the herd often chasing the herd for long distances before finding their kill. This aerobic form of hunting is very different from the cat, who is a stalker and pouncer and rarely does more than a sprint to take down its prey—alone.

So what about the question of discipline? Wolves do discipline each other down the hierarchy, insisting on submission from lower ranking members. With their pups, they are very tolerant until the pups mature, then the adults will assert themselves mostly using their mouths to correct annoying behaviors.

I collected some of fur that wolves had shed. “Take it home to your cats, their reaction will be a lot of fun.” In true dog form, the fur gave off a pungent odor. The fur enthralled ycats, who chewed on it and played with it and reacted as though it were catnip.

As my friend observed, she said, “I bet it’s the smell of carrion, the wolves roll around in all sorts of gross smelling stuff don’t they?”

'Yes, they do,' I thought as I reached down to pet my own smelly dogs whose unwashed frontier spirits stand in such distinct contrast to the old world gentility of my sweetly, self perfumed cats.

Indiana State Prison: A few more thoughts

noreply@blogger.com (Diana Korten (Partington)) — Fri, 01 Jun 2007 11:30:00 +0000

Reading over my last post, I wanted to clarify a few things:

The prison population at Indiana State Prison is about 2,000 with 47 cats currently registered in the program. According to the staff, problems with cat safety are few and far between. It was clear to me that these cats are cherished by their people. The cats are pampered and well-tended, getting more attention than most housepets.

The inmates have been incredibly resourceful in providing a comfortable and safe environment for the cats. And their cats receive top priority in the men’s financial arrangements. As Bear put it, “There have been plenty of times when my locker was empty, because I had spent all the money I had on my cat. I can go without, but my cat never does and that kind of responsibility is the kind of challenge that makes you grow.”

From my interviews, it is clear that for all the problems and dangers of prison culture, at Indiana State Prison, the predominant culture is one that cherishes cats and the role that they play in the lives of the men that are incarcerated there.

Indiana State Prison, Michigan City, Indiana: A Better Place for Everyone

noreply@blogger.com (Diana Korten (Partington)) — Fri, 01 Jun 2007 01:50:00 +0000

Cats started the Indiana State Prison cat program. One by one, over the years, they arrived, entering the prison through the bars of the North Gate, depositing litters of kittens into the eager arms and hearts of the inmates there.

Indiana State Prison is a men’s maximum security prison. Before coming here, I had mentioned my impending visit in various conversations. Concerned cat lovers had fretted over the fate of cats confined with such a rough crowd. 70% of the offenders incarcerated at Indiana State Prison are there for murder.

However, during my interviews, I found that whatever the complexities of their relationships with other people, most of the offenders in the cat program have always been animal lovers. And their devotion to their cats goes beyond providing these felines with security. These men adore their cats. Again and again, they affirmed that the cats had changed their lives, calming their anger, offering them love and teaching them about the joys and sacrifices of responsibility.

“When I arrived here, I had nothing to lose.” Explains ‘Bear’. “When you have nothing to lose—you can get yourself into a lot of trouble. When I got my first cat, it changed me. There is something about holding a cat that makes your anger melt away. And if someone does something that upsets me—I have to remember my cat. I can’t keep my cat if I get into trouble.” He smiles wryly, reaching for little Ziggy. Bear’s last cat died recently from a pulmonary disorder. Bear was devastated, as were the other men on his floor. Because the cat died of natural causes, he was able to get a new kitten. Ziggy was sourced through a local animal shelter that works with the prison.

He and his cellmate, Tom (who also has a cat, Booger) had to ‘kitten-proof’ their cell. They took down the cat tree that they had constructed for Booger and the previous cat, concerned that the very energetic and inquisitive kitten might injure himself on it. They also built a makeshift ‘cage’ for Ziggy to keep him safe when Tom and Bear have to be away from the cell.

According to the rules, all the cats are supposed to be leased at all times, but the guards and administration are very lax about these regulations, observing closely and using their discretion in individual cases, always with an eye toward the safety of the cat.

The gorgeous, fluffly Milo tends to stay in Mark Booher’s cell. Though the cat’s outgoing, sociable personality draws many visitors to his cell. The showers are immediately adjacent to Mr. Booher’s cell and Milo will pad over to stay close to his person. “A while back, I had a court date so I was gone for 10 days. The last thing I did before leaving was to shower. Milo followed along. When I got back, everyone told me that whenever he heard the showers turned on, Milo would hop over to see if it was me. It was nice to know that he was missing me.” Mr. Booher continues, “I was really lucky to get a cat like Milo. He has softened me. In a place like this, you have to keep your front up all the time, but not with Milo.”

Mark’s mother has always been a cat lover. Being able to swap cat anecdotes helps him stay close to her. “If it wasn’t for Milo, there wouldn’t be much to talk about.” He gestures out at the prison. “The cat program is the best thing happening here. It gives my life a purpose.”

James Stone got his first cat ‘Jinx’ years ago, well before the prison formalized the cat program. An inmate in his building had found a cat in the yard and brought it to his cell. “James, something is wrong with this cat.” The inmate called on him because James had a reputation for caring about animals.- Examining the cat, James assured him that the cat was fine—just in labor. Both men attended the birth. As the kittens matured, the other man sold these highly prized companions to other offenders for hundreds of dollars. But the runt of the litter was twitchy, with a crooked tail, poor balance and patches of fur missing. “He was real pathetic and nobody wanted that kitten. The guy was asking $300 cash, then a week later he dropped the price to $200, then $100—then $50 in kit. Finally, he just wanted to get rid of it. I was afraid he might kill it, so I took it.” Like the tale of the Ugly Duckling, ‘Jinx’ grew to be the most handsome and popular cat of the litter. “Even Major Cabanaw loved him. I’d come back to my cell and the guys would tell me,’The Major was here, hanging out in your cell with Jinx.’”

Indeed, Major Cabanaw has a photo of James Stone and Jinx on the bulletin board in his office. “I am 100% in favor of the cat program.” He proclaims proudly. “I don’t know of any other corrections facility that has a program like this—but I would recommend it for all prisons. The bottom line—it gives the offenders a reason to behave. It changes them. I’ve got guys in here who caused all kinds of problems—then they got a cat and thats it—they settle down and haven't caused any trouble since.”

A Major is the highest ranking corrections officer in the system. Indiana State Prison is only supposed to have one major overseeing the internal workings of the prison. My guide for the day, Vince Morton, is also a Major, but he was promoted to an administrative position overseeing prisoner grievances and other special programs (like the cat program.)

I asked if Major Cabanaw had concerns for the safety of the cats. “Of course, we always want to ensure the safety of the cats, and the staff is great about keeping an eye out for them. But mostly, it’s the offenders keeping them safe. I have never once seen an offender kill his own cat. We screen them to be sure they have no history of animal abuse. But I’ll tell you this, there was a guy killed in here because he had spit soda pop onto someone else’s cat.”

Kris St. Martin, a corrections officer, tells me, “There was a guy here whose cat was killed a couple of years ago. The guys on the floor put out a contract on that cat killer. No one was ever able to figure out who had done it, but if they had, well, as I said, there was a contract on him…Mostly these guys are really protective of the cats and they all benefit from their presence. A cat will visit with the offenders in their neighboring cells, and it means a lot to all of them. Occasionally, we get someone who has issues with casts, so we move them out to another building.”

When I visited, James Stone was providing a bit of ‘kitty day-care’ for another offender's cat, while he looked after his own cat. “Yeah, I take care of this guy’s cat while he’s at work.” James smiles proudly. This seems to be a fairly common practice among the cat program participants.

Jinx passed away from natural causes. The local shelter helped James find a cat that look a lot like Jinx. “ ‘Jinxster’ has the white paws, which Jinx didn’t have, and his personality is different, but he is still a great cat.”

Jinxster walked right up to me and offered a friendly overture as James continued to speak. “I have a temper. One time some things happened and I was feeling pretty serious about doing something. I was ready to do something. But Raol put Jinxster in my arms, and I just held him until I didn’t need to do something anymore.”

Slightly sheepish, he claims, “During my first 15 years here, I was trouble. I was out there in the yard, just making trouble.” Vince Morton and Kris St. Martin nod their heads knowingly, they both knew him before his first cat. “But Jinx changed all that. I’m a different person now.”

He shows me the marvelous cat house he built for his cats from scrap lumber and other odds and ends. I am amazed at how intuitively these men have responded to their cats needs. All of them have responded to the cats desire for height by constructing shelves for the cats.

“They certainly are innovative and resourceful.” Vince Morton affirms. Cat toys made from found pigeon feathers, boxes, string, scraps of carpet and fabric retrieved from dumpsters. A faux lambs wool paint roller makes a terrific cat toy.

The Assistant Superindent of the prison tells me, “I know there are people out there who think the offenders shouldn’t have cats. Some people don’t want them to have TV or anything to do. But I would support this cat program at any prison. Those cats humanize the men. The cats give them unconditional love, for many of those guys, that may be the only love they have ever experienced in their lives. And the bottom line for me, is that my staff are safer because of it. Every day that none of my staff gets hurt—that’s a good day. Watching over these guys is a dangerous job. And anything that makes that job safer is good with me.”

The administration and the staff that I spoke with emphatically supported the program. “I’ve been here for over 25 years, and I have seen a lot of offenders transformed by the cats.” Vince Morton is the man who kindly organized my visit and took a morning away from his vacation time to show me around. “This is an important program, I’m glad for an opportunity to tell people about it.”

My last interview was with Michael Overstreet, on death row. The program was only recently opened to Death Row inmates. Mr. Overstreet applied to the program and six weeks later received a darling black kitten, whom his seventeen year old daughter named ‘Athena’.

The cat program is virtually cost free to the prison (and tax-payers!) The program participants are responsible for all the expenses relating to the cat, including food, litter and veterinary bills. They can earn that money through work programs or through financial support from their families. “My grandmother is a real cat person.” Mr. Overstreet explains, “I asked her if she would sponsor my cat and she agreed…This cat has brought me so much happiness and order to my days. I used to sleep all day and be up all night. But now I have responsibilities.” Athena runs around the cell investigating everything, pressing her head through the bars to inquire about me. I was able to enter all of the other prisoner’s cells, but the rules are different on Death Row. No one enters the prisoner’s cells unless the offender is handcuffed, for one thing.

With each interview, I shook hands with the offenders. Vince Morton had advised me, “Most of the staff don’t know the specifics of the crimes these guys have committed. I find that its better not to know. It helps you be fair with them, if you aren’t thinking about what they did—and you absolutely don’t want to bring it up.”

All of our conversations focused on the cats, the logistics of prison litterbox maintenance, the importance of the cat relationship, anecdotes and one cat’s preference for ice water (all the inmates on Milo’s floor keep his water bowl nicely chilled by constantly refreshing his ice—since he has expressed a preference for cold water.)

I hadn’t known what to expect, never having been to a prison before. My entire idea of this world was based on The Shawshank Redemption, The Green Mile and Prison Break. I had anticipated mind-games and all sorts of possible unpleasantness. Instead, I found these men to be humble, respectful and profoundly sincere in their humanity and love for their cats.

In spite of the setting and the non-specific knowledge that their presence here was caused by unthinkable actions, I left the prison surprisingly uplifted, being so impressed by the compassion of the staff and the transformational impact of the cats.

When I arrived at my hotel two hours away in Lafayette, Indiana and had unpacked, I sat at my computer to download the photographs I had taken of the prison cats. Curiousity overcame me and I did a google search for ‘Michael Overstreet’.

As soon as I read it, I knew I would not look into the pasts of my other acquaintances.

Mr. Overstreet’s crime is the stuff of every woman’s worst nightmare.

On a deeply spiritual level, I believe in compassion for all beings. I believe in the right to rehabilitation. I believe that the entire universe benefits every time a heart is opened to true love. I believe these convictions so deeply that I believe that no matter how heinous the crime, that as long as the animal is safe, this cat program is good and right, not just as a reward for present good behavior, but because learning to love selflessly—even when the soul learning that love is about to be extinguished—the ability to experience that kind of love lightens the world. It makes the world a better place for everyone.

No studies have been done examining the impact of prison animal programs on recidivism. But Superintendent Buss assured me that the data for prisoner conduct within the facility is conclusive, the cats make the prison a better environment. The whole program is incredibly inspiring regarding the potential for animals to heal humans.

But Vince Morton was right, there are some things that it is better not to know.

Tonight I sit with great discomfort about Michael Overstreet, who loves his little cat Athena, and his four children and the grandmother that is sponsoring his kitten. Michael Overstreet whose hand I shook and with whom I spoke about the vagaries of love.

Nashville, TN: Rehabilitation

noreply@blogger.com (Diana Korten (Partington)) — Thu, 31 May 2007 00:27:00 +0000

Cats have changed me. For as long as I can remember, I was a moody, brooding person with a natural attraction to tragedy and anxiety. But over the past few years, the deepening of my relationship with cats has opened my soul to joy. The love that I share with these graceful light-hearted creatures has allowed me to let go of old grudges and reconcile my relationship with my long estranged father. It has helped me to overcome my crippling fear of flying. I have also observed the calm and gentleness that they evoke in my emotionally turbulent daughter. I have great faith in the rehabilitative power of our relationships with cats.

Over the last two weeks, my marriage has crumbled. I have cried so much that I burst a blood vessel in my eye. During these dark days, I forgot much of what cats have taught me. My own dear cats, cuddly and kind as they are, seemed distant and beyond the breakdown of my family.

Last night, unable to concentrate on my more technical reading, I pulled an untouched book from my cat library. With the first few pages, I was flooded with feline joy. “A Cat Called Canoe” isn’t a work of literary genius. It is sometimes awkward , sometimes overwritten, but it is none the less full of one man’s exhuberant love of his comical, yet strikingly beautiful cat called Canoe.

Every page lifts me up, reminding me of the happiness a feline perspective has brought to my journey. His retelling of Canoe’s antics, his clever cat dialogue (putting English words into Canoe’s mouth) and the combined affections of the author and his wife for their cat all come together to make me laugh and remember all that cats have brought to my life. I am so happy to be reminded.

My Cat Odyssey began as a quest to learn more about cats and those that love them. In wanting to learn more about how to rehabilitate cats, I have discovered the cat's fascinating ability to rehabilitate people. I know that many humans have had similar experiences in their relationships with dogs, horses, dolphins, even elephants, otters and bees.

This is where my cat odyssey—my infinite love and curiousity for cats—starts to expand to an investigation of how animals are able to heal people.

At a prison in British Columbia, the local humane society began an experiment. They created a cat shelter in a nearby men’s prison, allowing the inmates to care for the cats, under the supervision of a qualified volunteer. That volunteer, Maggie, witnessed a transformation in many of the prisoners, as a result of their engagement with cats. Most strikingly of all was a young man named Roger. Roger had served 10 years in a maximum security men’s prison for armed robbery. During that time he had completely shut down. He wore a baseball cap over his eyes, blocking any facial contact. He refused to communicate with anyone. His body posture was tight and defensive. This young man was about to be released from his sentence and the warden was gravely concerned about his ability to function in society. So she recommended that he work in the cat program, hoping a miracle might occur before he was paroled.

Maggie was skeptical about bringing this young man into the program, but Roger surprised everyone. He had an incredible intuition for cats and their needs. He understood how to approach even the most frightened, reclusive cat and comfort it into friendliness.

During his time with the cats, Roger’s body language completely relaxed and he began to speak to the cats. Eventually, he spoke to other people.

By the time he was ready to be paroled, Roger had completely emerged ready to engage with the world—but he had also grown very attached to one of the cats at the shelter.

Maggie agreed to let Roger adopt the cat on the condition that he stayed straight on the outside, with a regular job. She believed that with the love of that cat supporting him, Roger would be able to rejoin society positively.

He checks in with her every month by phone. He is working and maintaining a home for himself and the cat, as well as volunteering at his local animal shelter. And he credits cats for completely transforming his life.

There are several cat programs buried in the corrections system in the United States. Tomorrow, I visit Indiana State Prison to interview 3 ‘offenders’, one on deathrow, all of whom share their cells with cats.

I’ve never visited a prison before and I am nervous. But that is overcome by an intense curiousity to understand what these cats mean to these men and how the cats have affected their lives and the way they look at the world.

A brief intermission

noreply@blogger.com (Diana Korten (Partington)) — Sat, 19 May 2007 03:31:00 +0000

Dear Friends--I am taking the next two weeks off from my blog to deal with family issues--but rest assured, my Cat Odyssey will continue. On May 31, I am spending the morning at the Indiana State Prison, a maximum security men's prison, interviewing the inmates that participate in the prison's cat program. Then I'm off to Wolf Park to learn all about wolves and dogs (to gain some perspective)...There are many, many more adventures to relay over the coming months, so I hope you will check back soon--in the meanwhile, please enjoy all of the material that I have posted over the past several months.

Sincerely,

Diana

P.S.
A quick update: Annie (of the Cajun Cats) has been adopted by a wonderful family. And I called Angel's Gate in New York and they reported that Evangeline is doing very well and has integrated nicely with the Feline Leukemia positive population at the hospice. (I will be visiting her there on June 9.)

Key West, Florida: Sacred Cats

noreply@blogger.com (Diana Korten (Partington)) — Thu, 10 May 2007 13:38:00 +0000

“You know about how cows are treated in India?” Gary prefaces—and I do remember my astonishment at Brahmin cows meandering the busy city streets and markets, cows settling down in the midst of intersections in New Dehli, while motorcycles and buses careen around them. “That’s how cats are in Key West. As though we have an unspoken agreement that they are to be treated as sacred. I don’t think there is a cat on the island that goes hungry. Key West is a cat culture.”

As the ‘cat manager’ of the Island City House Hotel, Gary stands among the island’s cat caretakers. Guests seek out the hotel because of its friendly feline reputation. “I saw the cats on your website and its why I decided to stay here.” He is often told.

Though Gary does point out the most of the B&Bs and Inns on the island with a garden setting also feature resident cats. Usually, the cats wander onto the property and decide to stay, basking in the attention of the guests. “Its almost like these tourists are on safari or something, as though there weren’t any domestic cats in New Jersey or Connecticut, the way the guests fawn over the cats.” Gary marvels.

And indeed, in those places, there are few opportunities for such casual yet intimate relations with cats not in your keeping.

Perhaps cats provide the great allure of the Hemingway House. Their polydactyl toes and literary connections creating the cornerstone of the museums reputation, such that the USDA has actually determined the residence to be a zoo, needing all the appropriate permits, inspections and fees. Imagine—a domestic cat zoo!

The house itself is underwhelming, one stop on the long literary journey of Earnest Hemingway, but the appearance of a stretched out ginger tabby across a cordoned off bed once belonging to the master of macho delighted the entire guided tour.

As our group strolled through the gardens, our guide dribbled cat treats from his pockets, leading miniature tigers from the scrubs And the crowd waited eagerly to view a cat drinking from the old urinal that Hemingway had claimed from his old haunt, Sloppy Joe’s, when the bar was moved. His second wife, Pauline, had transformed the embarrassing article by attaching Spanish tiles to the sides and setting an enormous clay urn atop the urinal, creating a fountain, which keeps the cats supplied with fresh running water and our guide assured us that if we were patient enough we might even get to watch a cat stand on its hind legs, resting its front paws high on the vase to drink the fresh water that slides down the sides.

At the Real Key West Gallery on Caroline Street, 2 orange tabbies have taken up residence in the tiny garden that separates the gallery from the street. They routinely entice passersby into the gallery. “Its my job to sell the art, but there is no question that the cats help bring in the buyers.” The curator laughs.

There are even resident cats in the courtyard of the Key Lime Shoppe. What could be more Key West than savoring a slice of Key Lime Pie with an authentic Key West Cat!

I ventured to Mallory Square in keen anticipation of seeing the infamous ‘player’ and cat trainer, Dominick, The Cat Man. Samantha had told me that he has a genuine, loving relationship with his cats—and that they jump through hoops of fire and perform other daring feats.

Disappointment! Dominick is on vacation in his native France and won't return for another week! In his stead, however, around the corner, I stumbled upon Dominick’s alter ego, ‘the cut rate catman’, a bumbling drunk who feeds a raggedy band of friendly ferals every day at sunset.

For a dollar thrown in the tip jar , he may coerce on of the cats to sit on a piece of cardboard and through broken teeth and an unsteady swagger, he’ll crow about his rigorous employment schedule and how he spends three to six hours a day tending these cats in spite of the other compelling demands on his time.

The precise nature of his relationship with these cats isn’t clear, though they do crowd around his feet anticipating supper.

Back at my lodging, The Blue Parrot Inn, which also boasts of resident cats on its website, the delightful Tortie named Truffles greets me on the front porch. She invites me to join her on the white wicker furniture and snuggle as we enjoy the breeze through the lush tropical garden together.

Round Lake Public Library, Illinois: One Handed Typing

noreply@blogger.com (Diana Korten (Partington)) — Sun, 06 May 2007 02:06:00 +0000

For centuries, cats were banished to barns and backyards, rarely invited to the hearth. As our relationship has changed, we have gladly welcomed cats into our homes (and our beds.) But what about bringing them to work? (And I’m not talking about tele-commuting!)

Challenging, to be sure, but the rewards bring humor and humanity into the workplace.

Felines Paige, Turner and MisterE (mystery) were not readily welcomed into the staff rooms of the Round Lake Public library, as the reference librarian put it, “As long as I’m not expected to kiss them, I can pretty much ignore them.”

Another staffer quipped, “I am not a cat person. I am a dog person. I don’t have anything against them, but I would never have a cat in my home.” This said as she rubs and ruffles an enthralled Paige, who purrs and rolls in response to the expert touch.

“I can’t have cats at home, because my kids are allergic, but their allergies are low-level, so they love coming to work with me and having a chance to play with the cats. They wouldn’t have any other opportunity to have that relationship.” Another staffer chimes in.

“Our assistant director loves cats too, but his wife is allergic, so this is where he gets to enjoy cats.” Explains Elizabeth Crane, the library director. "And the rest of us just love them. They give the staff something to discuss, when one of the cats is doing something especially cute, intranet emails will fly around the building alerting the staff not to miss the moment. We swap anecdotes about the cats. And when someone is having a bad day, spending a few minutes with the cats provides private comfort. That’s why their official job is Staff Morale Boosters.”

Across the country, there are cats in public, private and university libraries. A cat’s exquisite silence makes it the perfect resident among rows and rows of quiet books. But not all library directors or their boards agree. Usually the presence of a cat tells you a lot about the library director, who truly decides the cat’s fate.

In some libraries the cats are free to roam the entire building. “We considered letting the cats spend time in the circulation area, we were going to attach a magnetic strip on their collars to trip the sensors if they wandered out or someone tried to take them.” But Elizabeth and her colleagues shared concerns about public complaints and allergies—along with all of the other logistics involved. Ultimately they decided it would be best to keep the cats in the staff rooms, though they do come out to visit for special events.

The first cat, Paige, was found outside the library by the President of the local Friends of the Library organization. Just a tiny kitten, she melted the hearts of the cat loving librarians. “Can we keep her, please?” They implored their new director (Elizabetth had only been on the job for two days!) Friends of the Library offered to cover all the food, litter and veterinary expenses for the cat.

Elizabeths response: “Okay, but if we are going to keep her, then we have to get another, because I believe cats belong in pairs.”

Enter Turner.

Things went so well that a third homeless kitten was added months later, the lovable MisterE.

Vertical scratching posts hang from office doors, an enormous cat tree dominates the staff entrance. Cat toys are scattered about and whenever MisterE poops there is a scramble to remove his potent, fuming solids from the litterbox.

"We’ve all learned to type one handed when one of the cats wants to be held.” Elizabeth laughs.

A cat’s position in the library lacks long-term security, a change in library directors can predicate a change in policy. Usually, one of the cat loving staff will end up adopting the feline residents.

At one library in New England, the controversy over the library cat became so heated that a major donor threatened to revoke her pledge of over a million dollars if the cat was removed from the library (clearly a dedicated cat lover!). A handful of citizens insisted that the cat be removed from public property.

Battle lines for and against the cat were drawn around town. After a court ruling , the cat was rehomed and the library lost its fuzzy companion, as well as a significant donation.

Imagine a culture where the comings and goings of cats are embraced. Where the prevailing ethic combines aesthetic appreciation for the cat and increased compassion for their well-being. An office cat, a store cat, a library cat, they all challenge the sterility of the workplace and perhaps that is good.

If the staff accepts the cats, does that change the dynamics of office politics? One librarian at Round Lake said, “I don’t really like cats, but these guys arrived as babies and who can resist a baby. I fell in love with them as babies and I still love them now.”

Wow! Love in the workplace, the ability to open hearts without threat of sexual misconduct. Out of 42 staff members at Round Lake, the vast majority cherishes the presence of Paige, Turner and MisterE.

Chicago, Illinois, Samantha’s Amazing AcroCats: Scaring Off Men and other Entertainments

noreply@blogger.com (Diana Korten (Partington)) — Fri, 04 May 2007 16:48:00 +0000

“If a man is bothering you in a bar, just tell him you live with twenty cats—then see how fast he runs away.” Sitting in her living room amidst multiple white cats and orange cats, as well as props from her performing cat show, Samantha’s thirty-something sassiness and trim figure infer that she has plenty of opportunities to scare off unwanted men. “The problem is, of course, that as much as I love cats, I love men too. So when I first invite someone over, I make sure there is only 1 orange cat and one white cat in the living room. The rest of the cats stay in the back room. That way I don’t have to keep track of which cats I had out. When I like a guy, I try to ease him into my cat scene."

Why so many cats of the same color? Stunt doubles for film and television.

“My favorite animals to work with are cats and raccoons. Two animals that most trainers can’t stand—they are a real challenge, with minds of their own, if they don’t feel like doing a trick, if the energy isn’t right, they just aren’t going to do it. Then I have to improvise.”

It is hard to imagine her cats being reluctant to do anything.
As we move through the apartment into her kitchen, a mass of orange and white cats jump onto their bandstand. Voluntarily they pluck at their guitar strings, pump the drumsticks in a steady rhythm and bang on the keyboards—experimental music indistinguishable from reknown composer John Cage’s highly strategized and symphonized plonking.

‘Tuna’ jumps into her spot at the tip jar and taps it suggestively. “Tuna is the star of my shows. She loves training and performing. Can’t stand other cats and doesn’t like being touched but she is a reliable performer.”
Like many trained animals, Tuna’s default behavior is the first trick she learned, ringing a bell. “When we are on stage, we get a lot of comedy from me trying to get Tuna to turn on the light or jump through a hoop, but instead she returns to the bell and keeps ringing it and looking at me expectantly. I’ll try hiding it out of the way, but she still goes after that bell.
The audience loves watching the cats make a fool of me.” Samantha laughs at herself, while Tuna purrs through her entire spontaneous performance, bell ringing, hurdle jumping and light switching tricks.

This cat loves to work.

And so does Bugles. Samantha puts the young black cat in the other room while Tuna is showing off her stuff (she’s a diva and does not appreciate sharing the spotlight.) Bugles is climbing the screen and vocally insisting that he get his turn. “Bugles saved my show once. All of the other cats had called a last minute strike—but Bugles is a union buster—and he didn’t care. He performed the entire show.”

When Bugles emerges from the sidelines, he shows off his skateboarding skills. He hops on the board and rolls down the ramp, then pushes off his hind paw to keep the board rolling. He can’t get enough of this game. “All my cats love to work. That is one of the themes I touch on in my shows, Cats love work. You can extinguish unwanted behaviors in the home by working on these kinds of tricks with your cat—they love having the mental stimulation of figuring this stuff out. You end up with a much more highly interactive cat—and its a lot of fun. And most of all your cat won’t be so bored.”

We talk about some of the other performing cats shows around the country, the Moscow Cats Theatre, Gregory Popovich in Las Vegas, the Catman in the Florida Keys. “Oh yeah, I tellin’ ya, that Catman, he’s a player. After his shows, women are lining up to go home with him. The funny thing is—when I do a show, even in my leather cat suit, with the kitty ears and all—not once has a guy waited around to hit on the crazy cat lady.” It is clear that Samantha uses her abundant sex appeal and wry humor to keep her cat show going. When she is on stage and one of her cats refuses to perform, she takes over the stage with her stand up routines.

Flashback, October. 2005: Autumn Comes

noreply@blogger.com (Diana Korten (Partington)) — Thu, 03 May 2007 06:24:00 +0000

The frosty nights deliver warm bodies into my bed.

I sleep on my side, feet buried in Ben’s silky undercoat.

Helen claims the spot by my head—the others don’t dare to challenge her. Wild cat—barely able to tolerate human contact, but so eager to be near me. Radiating heat, she settles inches from my ear.

Gussie finds the lull between my ribs and hip. She kneads the comforter, rumbling. Still a kitten, her tiny blades lance the down and pierce my flesh. When I can’t stand any more, I pluck her off, setting her next to my belly. She folds into a ball and sleeps, nose tucked under paws.

On an occasional night, Ben will wile his way into my daughter’s bed. His amorous attention wakes her. He tries to nurse on her hair. She calls “Mama, get Ben out of my room!”

She is seven. I tell her. “He thinks you are his mommy. You can’t imagine how much he loves you.”

She casts my words aside, “I know Mom. But he’s bothering me.”

He returns to my bed and flops at my feet. Second choice, but none the less, I am blessed. Such a cat! Divinely handsome. Soft as a bunny. Enjoys small children. Tolerates all manner of nonsense.

Some nights, when he is deeply asleep, I reach for him, pulling him into my arms. Some nights, he will stay there. Then he sleeps under my chin, but only on my right side. Because Helen is on my left.

Helen* does everything with her claws out. She is a sheet shredder. Cross-eyed, obese, and very nervous. I rescued her from a gutter in downtown Los Angeles when she was just weeks old and filthy. I washed her seven times before the water ran clear. She loves me beyond measure, then she bites me.

There are nights when I sleep away from home. On those nights, my body longs for even the anticipation of little feet. Midnight’s amorous visitors. The tentative pressure of paw on quilt. Cat weight. Cat warmth. My heart swells at the thought of it.

When Dorothy was alive, she spurned me in the summers, “Oh for goodness sake, it is just too hot!” Green eyes regarded me with glassy exasperation as she wriggled from my reach. Then pink tongue would extend for a thorough grooming, purging any trace of my sweat.

On those sweltering nights, she preferred to stretch out against the cool expanse of hardwood floors. I was jealous, but I knew the change of season would bring her back to me—and it did without fail. Then she could easily be persuaded to nuzzle on my pillow. Burying my face in her gray bristle, I breathed in her dry sweet-grass scent and drifted into happy dreams.

For thirteen years, she claimed the spot by my head. Arriving with a purr like a kiss. A gracious acknowledgement of her affections for me, its cadence gradually eased by encroaching slumber.

Even when it was too hot for her on my pillow, none of the other cats dared to trespass.

Then one night, after weeks of hopeful attempts to repair Dorothy’s failing kidneys, she woke me one last time. She was struggling to rise off of her spot. I lifted her and took her to the cat litter, but when I gently set her there, she fell over. I picked her up and held her tattered frame in my arms.

It was three in the morning and I had already taken her to the emergency vet in the preceding hours. They wanted her to stay in their incubator. But her howling cries told me that she needed to return to my bed. They told me to set her on several towels on top of a heating pad. I did this, and then lay next to her. Even through the illness, she still smelled like the first rainfall landing on an arid desert.

I cradled her the dark kitchen, crying, not knowing what to do. Then suddenly, she was gone.

Nasturtiums and a small granite cat mark her grave. At the burial, my three-year-old daughter assured me, “Dorothy has reincarnated, Mama. I know. She is a lioness in Africa now. She is very happy.”

That night, I slept alone on a wet pillow and dreamed of Africa.

The next night, Ben came. He curled the small of his back into my neck, just as Dorothy had. He smelled like her too—scent of the heat soaked savannah. His fur absorbed my tears without complaint. Each night, for two weeks, he returned. A surrogate for Dorothy.

Then he returned to my feet. And Helen ascended to her current domain.

Charles's Forever Home

noreply@blogger.com (Diana Korten (Partington)) — Sat, 28 Apr 2007 23:06:00 +0000

Lara, of Basha's Fund, featured Charlie on Petfinder.com--and was overwhelmed with responses about all four kittens. So many people were interested that, as she put it, "We could place them with just the four-star adopters."

And that is just what happened for Charlie! He went to his new home two days ago, and here is an update note from his new parents, along with a few photos they sent:

Dear Jenny and Lara,
This is Michael and Amanda and we are writing to give you the update on Charles Gimli (we updated his name a little). We are loving him and he is loving life. He and Zephyr are becoming best friends, although I think the big kitty is a little intimidating some times. We are keeping a good eye on them though. He is eating well and using the box perfectly. He is enjoying all the toys and the romping with a new friend. He is very sociable and friendly. Everyone who has visited him thinks he's awesome. We are attaching some pictures of the first day and half. Thank you so much for setting us up with the kitty of our dreams.

Little Charlie has come a long way from wandering the parking lot in Lafayette, LA. (See The Lafayette, LA: Cajun Cats post for the beginning of his story.)

P.S. I find it so interesting how much Zephyr looks like Chance (one of the adult cats I rescued from Lafayette.)

Cedarhill Sanctuary, Caledonia, Mississippi: Feline Self-Determination

noreply@blogger.com (Diana Korten (Partington)) — Sun, 22 Apr 2007 01:37:00 +0000

Without a doubt, Cedarhill Sanctuary, in Caledonia, Mississippi has created the most appealing residence for rescued cats that I have experienced thus far.

Kay McElroy, the founder and director of Cedarhill, explained, “Free will is the key. These cats all get to make a choice about where and how they live. I respect them as individuals.” Her instincts helped to create a paradise for discarded domestic cats from all over the country and even the world. She took in 53 Katrina cats, but also accepted seven cats from Greece, along with dozens of others that needed refuge and a good home each with its own unique history.

She started as a rescue for Big Cats (Lions and Tigers, as well as Cougars)—and there are plenty of those too. ”There is no question, people’s interest in the Big Cats helps fund this sanctuary for over 200 domestic cats, as well. Not to mention the dogs and horses.”

Kay stresses, “This is not a zoo. Zoos are for people. I am very selective about who gets to visit Cedarhill, because this is a sanctuary, it is all about the animals here.”

Essentially, there are four different options for the Cedarhill domestic cats. The Senior House for older cats and those with special medical needs (though there are also a couple of younger, healthy cats that insisted on moving in and have settled nicely with their elders.) The Senior house includes a large kitchen for meal preparation, dish sterilization and load after load of laundry. The 50 cats live in four large rooms, a screened in porch and a serene enclosed backyard.

The next option is a ½ acre outdoor enclosure complete with trees to climb, a play fort, cubbies, and four climate controlled cottages. All 150 cats are free to roam the entire enclosure and sleep wherever they please. In two of the cottages, the sleeping arrangements are more individual (cat beds rest on shelves that create divisions of space), and in two they are more communal (essentially beds, where 20 cats will curl up in one big heap.) The more independent cats tend to prefer the cottages with the shelves, while other cats like the cuddle cottages.

Some cats don’t adjust well to communal life on such a grand scale and they are divided into small groupings of 4 or 5 cats with their own cottage and enclosure, separate from the large group. Kay has only had two cats that had a violent response to sharing space with others. For one, his sociability issues were resolved with anti-depressant medication. With another, he needed his own private enclosure. “In truth, I think he just likes being on his own. I tried reintroducing him to the large enclosure after a few years, but he was very clear that he wanted his own space. He is the only cat I have had that is willing to fight to the death. But when he is alone, he has a very sweet disposition. They are all different and I try to respect that.”

Some cats wander the larger property, making their homes in heated cubbies. While some others prefer to stay in the main house with Kay.

Cedarhill doesn’t use any volunteers. All of the staff are paid professionals, selected for their love of animals and willingness to treat all of the animals with the utmost care and compassion. Cleaning of the interior spaces happens twice a day, litter boxes are scooped three times a day (and there are a lot of litter boxes), cats are fed and medicated as needed, and all of the staff also spend quality time with the cats. “Sometimes, I will just lay on the mattress with the cats and let them all love on me at once.” Says the staffer who works with the Senior cats five days a week.

As Kay and I entered the Senior House, about 20 cats trotted over to greet us, all rubbing heads against each other in shared excitement. I took off my sweater, as it was very warm indoors and one dottering kitty obliged me by depositing a good dose of his scent on it. My bad. The group radiated good health, with plush coats and bright eyes, only when I stroked their spines did I feel those tell-tale protrusions that give away a cat’s advancing age. Otherwise I would have thought they were much younger. “I feed them Felidae. My holistic vet recommended it highly and I think it shows in their coats.”

We received a similar greeting when we entered the large enclosure, a swell of head butting, allo-grooming cats hurried to greet us. We visited each cottage and Kay greeted each cat by name, laughing about the ‘orange mafia’—a particularly clickish group of orange tabbies that band together through thick and thin. In the red cottage, Kay points out a grey tabby, “She is quite a character, she always has a big, black boyfriend. This one is her third. With each one, she lets him sleep with her and attend to her with grooming and companionship, then suddenly one day, she’ll spurn him. Doesn’t want anything more to do with him, and she’ll pick another black tom to hang with. The previous one lasted for three years, now she ignores him.”

As we sit in the red cottage, several low level spats occur. An odd hiss here and there, an occasional bat of a sheathed claw. “Do these encounters ever escalate to a full scale fight?” I ask.

“Only with the two cats I mentioned before—one was cleared up with medication, the other can’t be with other cats. But otherwise, no, just the occasional stand-off like what you have witnessed.”

“And how do you respond?”

“Usually, I really don’t have to. They are communicating ‘I want this sleeping spot.’ ‘Move over’ ‘Let me eat in peace’.”

I wondered if some of the escalating aggression cases I have seen are really a three way interaction. Cat hisses at cat, person reacts with extreme concern or scolding which escalates the pattern and inadvertently encourages repetition. Perhaps a more hands off approach would be much better, except in the most extreme cases. Here are a 150 cats that interact constantly without fighting. Kay understands that hissing is just a feline way of saying “Back off” and doesn’t warrant a scolding or human intervention, perhaps that is part of why it works here.

For more information about Cedarhill Animal Sanctuary please visit their website at www.cedrhill.org

Nashville, TN: Attachment

noreply@blogger.com (Diana Korten (Partington)) — Thu, 19 Apr 2007 01:23:00 +0000

Tommorow I take the kittens to their new foster mom. Jenny Towle has lots of experience and is a wonderful woman. But I really want to keep these babies. I am convinced that they are the sweetest, most delightful kittens that were ever born. They radiate confidence and affection. So snuggly and loving. I can barely stand it. I made every argument and plea possible to my husband who vetoed them as additions to our family. Part of me knows that he is right, to add four more would be too much. But when I look at their trusting little faces, they are so much more than a number.

If it weren’t for my husband, I might be in danger of being a well intentioned cat hoarder. My mind is feverish with awful images of the terrible fates that could befall my beloved little kittens: Nola, Kate, Charles and Annie. Perhaps I could make a more persuasive argument in favor of keeping them if I wasn’t about to leave for two months.

These are their photos and the descriptions I sent to Lara of Basha’s Fund/Doodlebug Manor, who will be placing them:

Cajun Kittens
Born on the Bayou, these four kittens are bold and cuddly (not a scaredy cat in the bunch!) They are happy to sleep in a pile or curl up on your shoulder, nuzzling into your neck. Each one is confident and affectionate—the purrfect combination. If you are looking for a snuggly cat that will come when you call—don’t miss out on these darlings.

Nola (for New Orleans Louisiana)
Nola is a delightful black and grey classic tabby. She has the most reserved nature of the litter, sweet and petite.

Annie (named after the cook at the Creole house bed and breakfast in New Orleans) An adventurous youngster (and my eight year old daughter’s favorite because of her loving personality.) This fluffy gray kitten will probably have a medium length coat.

Kate (named after Kate Chopin author of The Awakening) mostly tabby with a touch of tortie in her face, Kate is my favorite for her smart sparky character. She comes running when I enter the room and will scale any bedsheet to snuggle up under the covers with you at night.

Charles (named after St. Charles avenue in New Orleans): The only boy of the litter, he is an exceptionally sweet cat. He also comes running when he sees me and purrs the instant I pick him up. His fluffy coat will probably be medium length.
I don’t know how rescuers do this, again and again, raise up and love cats just to hand them over with hearts full of hope to relative strangers. I love these kittens, but right now I can barely look at them knowing that we will be separated tomorrow.

New Orleans: ARNO Feline Enrichment

noreply@blogger.com (Diana Korten (Partington)) — Wed, 18 Apr 2007 16:59:00 +0000

It’s early in the morning, before anyone else is up and about at Animal Rescue New Orleans. Jackie, the kennel manager, gave me a key the previous evening so that I could collect three cats that I would be transporting to the Wags and Whiskers rescue in Middle Tennessee. All three have delightful personalities and will have a much easier time finding homes out of New Orleans.

Flicking on the lights in the office, all of the familiar feline faces perk up. I have made a difference here, small perhaps, but many of these cats are different than they were when I first arrived. They move to the front of their cages, ears cupped forward, “What do you have for us today?” They seem to ask.

On the walls above the cats are cheerful posters that another volunteer (a first grade teacher) had lettered and illustrated. They provide guidelines for the ARNO Feline Enrichment program.

When I arrived at ARNO two weeks ago, Robin, the shelter director took me into her office. “I know that our conditions here are not ideal. I hope you understand that we are doing the best we can.”

“I’m not here to judge, just to help however I can.”

“I really do want the best for our cats—if you have any ideas for how we can improve things for them, please let me know.” She was in earnest. “There are no egos here, just a lot of work and good will.”

I spent my first few days cleaning cages, feeding cats and observing. Many of the cats rarely lifted their heads or acknowledged me as I moved around them. Living in cages is a standard arrangement for cats in most shelters. Some shelters overcome the issues of depression by maintaining a cageless environment, which can have its own challenges, but cages are the most common arrangement—and the cats get bored, and that boredom leads to depression.

ARNO was doing an excellent job feeding, medicating and keeping the cats in sanitary conditions—but unlike the dogs who at least get walked a few times a day, most of the cats only received occasionally stroking or a passerby would wiggle their fingers in the cage for some of the younger cats.

My first action was to order some appropriate toys from my favorite vendors. The Cat Dancers (basically a wire with bits of cardboard on the end, see www.CatDancer.com ) were the perfect toy for caged cats, because they are very inexpensive (especially because the company has special pricing for shelters), and it is easy to poke the flimsy wire into the cage and bounce the end about. The cats LOVED it—essentially, it’s like a cricket or little fly had just happened upon their cage. The erratic motion caught the attention of all the cats in the room when I introduced the first Cat Dancer—suddenly something was happening!

People often overlook a cat’s need to hunt. We are so caught up in feeding them and giving them cozy places to sleep that we forget that they are supposed to spend 8 hours a day awake: exploring, hunting, grooming, eating and playing.

I purchased Cat Dancers for every cage; we taped the cat’s names onto the wire to help prevent the spread of any germs. The morning that the Dancers arrived, 20 high school students from Michigan were volunteering—the front cat room sprang to life as each student engaged a cat in play.

Another great toy for the caged cats is called Da Bird (a fishing pole type toy with a special swivel before the feathered bob—when it is lassoed over head it looks and sounds like a real bird, see www.go-cat.com). I purchased several of these for the different cat rooms and instructed the volunteers to spend 10 minutes whirling the toy around prior to providing the cats with their daily wet food.

According to Temple Grandin, in her book “Animals in Translation”, studies show that the part of the brain formerly referred to as the ‘pleasure center’ is actually a seeking circuit. In other words, for all animals (including humans) anticipation is the most pleasurable state of mind. The brain of an animal lights up with activity when it is anticipating food, the behaviors of anticipation are happy and excited, once the food actually arrives, the thrill is over. (This explains the phenomena of shop-a-holics—as it is the anticipation that provides the rush, rather than the actual acquisition.)

By whirling and plopping and playing with Da Bird before mealtime, the cats get stimulated on two fronts. First, their hunting instincts are triggered, I was asked if it isn’t mean to ‘tease’ the cats like that since Da Bird is outside the cage, but I reminded everyone that cats are not aerobic hunters, most of their hunting time is spent stalking—so this experience very much approximates the real experience of hunting (on the other hand, the cats are having physical interaction with the Cat Dancers so that urge is also being satisfied.) The routine of this ‘hunt’ before feeding also stimulates their seeking circuit and helps build up the anticipation of the wet food meal. 10 minutes isn’t a lot but it is an easily doable piece of the enrichment program.

The key to the ARNO enrichment plan working was that it had to be 1) inexpensive 2) not time consuming 3) easy to communicate.

The posters on the wall explained the use of Da Bird and the Cat Dancers. They also explained a schedule of self-starting toys to introduce to the cage each day.

Here is the key to ARNO Feline Enrichment: Novelty and Motion. Motion is exciting for cats—thus the Cat Dancer bouncing and Da Bird fluttering. When I first arrived at ARNO several of the cages had a strand of Mardi gras beads hanging from the top of the cage, occasionally a stuffed animal or a ping pong ball graced the floor of the cage. Most looked like they were long time residence of the cage and the cats were ignoring them.

Novelty is interesting—it is interesting to all animals. Yes, cats don’t like change, but they do like variety in their hunting experiences. So I put together this schedule:

Monday
Pipe Cleaners: Attach three pipe cleaners together, and then wind them around a finger so that they form a bouncy spiral. Attach one end to the top of the cage, so they hang down for batting around. Also wind a single piper cleaner around your finger and toss into the cage.

Tuesday
Feathers: Twist part of the pipe cleaners from Monday around a couple of feathers so that there are feathers hanging down in the cage, and attached to the loose pipe cleaner also.

Wednesday
Mardi gras Beads: Remove any left over feathers and discard. Attach a strand or two of plastic Mardi gras beads to the hanging pipe cleaners (be sure the strand is cut so that it is not longer a loop.)

Thursday
Treat Balls: Remove all pipe cleaners and Mardi gras beads from the cage (discard the pipe cleaners. Wash and disinfect the Mardi gras beads for reuse next week.) Using the really cheap plastic Easter eggs (the ones that pop open easily), drop a few highly desirable cat treats inside the egg, then close it and toss it into the cage.

Friday
Catnip Pompoms and Corks: Remove the plastic eggs from the cages (wash and disinfect for reuse next week) be sure that the Pompom balls and Corks have been marinated in good potent catnip (add a little more to the container if necessary.) Toss a couple of pompoms and a wine cork into the cage.

Saturday
Paper Bags and ping pong balls: Remove the pompoms to be washed and disinfected and dried for reuse next week (if possible), discard the wine corks. Fold the top of a paper bag back so that it holds the bag in an open position. Toss a ping pong ball into the bag and place in cage. Be sure to remove any extra beds to make room for play.

Sunday
Empty toilet paper and paper towel rolls: Discard yesterday’s paper bags and remove and wash the Ping-Pong balls for reuse next week. Toss an empty toilet paper roll and an empty paper towel roll into the cage.

Each day the former items were removed and replaced with the new items. Some cats would engage with their toys throughout the day, others would spend 5 to 15 minutes investigating the objects and then ignore them for the rest of the day. But the vast majority of cats were interested—even if only briefly. Combining these items with the Action of the interactive toys began to bring the place to life.

The program is self-reinforcing, because all of the regular volunteers and the staff noted the positive changes in the cats—some of which were quite remarkable. Like Nunny, the ginger tabby with a terrible skin condition. Day after day he slept in his hammock, ignoring the world around him; he recoiled when anyone tried to pat him, looking scared and miserable. But several days of play turned his little personality around. He loved batting at the Cat Dancer and the pipe cleaners in his cage. Even when another cat was playing, he would jump out of his hammock to watch.

I reminded everyone that it was okay to skip an occasional day—when there aren’t enough volunteers to do the enrichment, it can wait for the next day. It is important that the regiment not be too strict, because there are days when there aren’t enough people to do the extras. But Robin, Anastasia and Jackie all committed to making ARNO feline enrichment continue to happen, even after I left.

The last addition to the program was the ARNO Kitty-Cat Playground (where the ARNO cats play.) The ARNO staff had built a secure enclosure within the warehouse. Robin’s vision is that eventually it will contain several pens of seven cats each, where volunteers can enter and play with the cats (which can be awkward when the cats are in small cages.) In the interim, there are several cat cages in that enclosure. I gathered up all the random scratching posts and other cat structures that had been donated to ARNO. Jackie provided a nice large rug. I scattered the structures about, then let six cats out of their cats (locking the gate to the enclosure). We played for hours with the pole toys, cats jumping onto structures, scratching at the posts, leaping and bounding after Da Bird. I tried to make the space comfortable and inviting so that volunteers would be drawn to spend some time there, playing with the cats.

New Orleans: Contemplating the Purr

noreply@blogger.com (Diana Korten (Partington)) — Wed, 18 Apr 2007 03:00:00 +0000

4am on my last night in New Orleans and I can't sleep. The Maine Coon from the Lafayette animal control, Chance, jumps onto the bed, he plops down next to me, fidgets and adjusts, sighs, rests his head on his paws and mellows into a throaty purr.

One of the great alures of the cat, the purr happens when a cat is happy, but it also happens when cats are scared. What a conundrum--why the same response to such contrasting feelings?

The kittens run to my feet as I stand at the sink or sit at my computer. They mew and purr, rubbing their tiny fluffy bodies against me until I pick them up and then their purr accelerates.

Yesterday, I read that the Purr actually acts as a soliciation for contact. Which explains the contradictions 'purrfectly.'

Purring can mean: "Oh yes! Please keep rubbing me like that!:
or "I'm just so happy to be near you."
or "Hold me, I'm scared."
Or in the case of the kittens (just like my 3 year old daughter says with her arms in the air and her body pressed against my legs): "Mommy, uppy me!"

The purr is powerful and soothing communication between mamma cat and her babies. The mother and kittens purr as they nurse--again a communication that invites contact "Here I am babies, cuddle up, eat and stay warm." The kittens respond with their own contact seeking and maintaining purr.

I explained all of this to my mother who responded, "So then, what does it mean when they stop purring?" In my experience, it usually means they have fallen asleep.

New Orleans: Angels

noreply@blogger.com (Diana Korten (Partington)) — Fri, 13 Apr 2007 01:04:00 +0000

I felt terrible leaving Evangeline at ARNO for the night. Set up in a clean cage, the way she watched me spoke of yet another abandonment. Why are you leaving me here? She implored. “Evangeline, I love you and I promise you that I will take care of you.” I didn’t know what I was going to do, but I knew that I needed to keep her separated from the kittens and ‘Chance’. I stroked her fur and cried. This pretty, loving manx should have been easy to place, but the disease that has invaded her body is a scarlet letter that warns off adoption. What would I do with her? The weight of this responsibility was overwhelming.

Because of her feline leukemia positive status, I couldn’t mix her with my cats at home, I just couldn’t expose them to that level of risk, especially my beloved Henry with his FIV positive status. ARNO doesn’t euthanize feline leukemia cats and the thought of extinguishing this little life was too painful to bare.

On Tuesday morning, I called Jodi, a woman in Nashville who provides a home for cats with Feline Leukemia. But she didn’t have room for Evangeline. “I never planned to be a leukemia rescue. But several years ago, I was working with the Purr Factory rescue group. I had about 30 cats here, when I brought home a pregnant female. She gave birth almost immediately, so I hadn’t had a chance to do anything. Turned out she had feline leukemia, and of course, so did her kittens. By the time I found out, it was too late. The disease swept through the population. You can’t imagine the guilt I felt as one cat after another died in my arms. Those months were like living in hell. I loved those cats and my carelessness was responsible for losing them. In the end, I decided to do leukemia rescue. I needed something good to come from all of that loss. I had learned so much about the disease and I wanted to do something—something good to make up for my mistake.”

10 of the original 30 cats in her population had died from Leukemia. Jodi’s number’s reflect the statistics given to me by Dr. Norris, the ARNO vet. “Of the cats that test positive for Feline Leukemia, I see about 1/3 that die within a year or so from secondary infections, 1/3 are carriers without symptoms, and 1/3 end up reverting to negative—their bodies beat the virus.” He uses several remedies, including one called Staph Protein A to help with the reversal.

Jodi’s current leukemia cats seem to live at least 4 years. “I use a lot of holistic remedies, immune boosters etc. All of my leukemia kitties are so loving and friendly. I love them.”

After my phone call with Jodi, I went to the dining room at the hotel. A young law student was sitting with her friend eating breakfast. “How’s Evangeline doing?” She asked.

“She has feline leukemia.” I went on to explain what that meant. She was so sad and so sincere in her concern. Over the weekend, I had walked around the hotel with Evangeline in my arms, every one was amazed at how relaxed and friendly she was. The young law student had told me that she lives in New York and had left her beloved kitty behind with her parents. She was having cat withdrawal and loved snuggling Evangeline.

Suddenly an idea! “Kathy,” I asked, “You are flying to New York today, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Would you be willing to transport Evangeline to a sanctuary on Long Island for Feline Leukemia cats?”

She reflected for a moment. “Yeah, I could do that. I’d have to keep her with me until the weekend, but that’s doable—if that’s okay.”

Immediately I called Robin at ARNO, she called Susan from Angel’s Gate Sanctuary in Long Island (www.angelsgate.org ) The answer was yes! If we could get Evangeline to the sanctuary, they would accept her. I called Continental airlines to book Evangeline’s passage as Kathy Hwang’s underseat companion. Then I dashed to ARNO to collect Evangeline and have the vet complete her Health Certificate for the flight (that is when I met the fabulous Dr. Norris—a Robert De Niro look alike when he smiles.)

By 12:45 Evangeline, Kathy and I reunited at the airport. I stayed with them to make sure everything was going smoothly. “Evangeline is a really great cat. After a few days together… what if I wanted to keep her?”

“Just let me know, I’ll work it out with Angel’s Gate. I think you two would make a terrific pair and you clearly love cats.” We had already thoroughly explored the complexities of caring for a Feline Leukemia cat. “Either way, I’m coming to New York in June, I can either visit her at your place, or if you like we can visit her together at Angel’s Gate.”

How quickly it all happened! By 1:15, I was driving away, missing sweet Evangeline already. Before I left, I whispered to her, “You be sure to charm Kathy, okay?” I hope that those two will stay together. But either way, Evangeline’s future looks bright. The Angel’s gate sanctuary is a cage free, loving sanctuary set up to care for special needs animals.