Pet Talk-Jan. 20, 2005

Cat scratched, clawed his way to good home

By: Dr. Daniel Eubanks
   One entire wall of an exam room at my office is a display dedicated to my own personal pets.
   On it is a collage; a photographic gallery of my own pets, past and present. I refer to my own pets often when conversing with clients, and they seem to enjoy being able to relate the discourse with the face or, in some instances, the other end!
   A short while ago, one of my cat-adoring clients was in this room admiring my rogue’s gallery when he exclaimed, "Hey, I know that cat!" He was pointing to a full-faced portrait of my most recently acquired pet.
   What could be so uniquely distinctive about a cat’s face this person could be so convinced he’d seen this cat before? Let me backtrack.
   Last year, just before Christmas, my wife was visiting a neighbor a few doors down who was about to move out of state. The neighbor expressed concern as to what would become of an adult feral cat she had been feeding outdoors for some time. The cat was hanging around as they spoke, waiting for food. He is a very people-friendly cat and proceeded to entwine his tail around my wife’s ankle.
   Well, that was it! He was destined as of that moment to ultimately reside at my home. I was hesitant to having him inside my house for reasons I have described in previous articles. We already had one cat, a tri-color female, who clearly prefers not to have company.
   But my wife had fallen for this cat and was not to be denied. He was a survivor and was in a jam. She negotiated him into our fold as "her Christmas present to herself."
   His name is Chewie, probably not due to any resemblance to Chewbacca, but because his head appears to have only partially escaped the ravages of a Cuisinart. This cat has a face only a mother could love and is so unique there could be no possibility of a lookalike.
   Chewie reminds me of Kirk Douglas in the 1958 movie, "The Vikings," handsome, but in a rugged sort of way. He has one blind opaque eye, totally white with scar tissue, and one cauliflower ear on the opposite side. Both have healed but are permanently scarred and deformed from prior injuries.
   Fast forward to my client in the exam room. The cat in the photo was so unique there was no mistaking his identity. He had known this cat before. Here was a rare opportunity to have someone fill in the blanks regarding a feral cat’s mysterious previous existence.
   Turns out this cat was born as a farm cat six years ago at a commercial landscape nursery just a mile or so from my home. My client had been employed there and knew this cat as a kitten. He was called "one-eyed-cat" at this time so his eye had been damaged at an early age.
   My client used to feed the kittens and recalls this particular one as being very forward and friendly and having a passion for food. He was allowed in the nursery office during the day where he shared affection with my client and ate regularly.
   At some point, his ear was injured and healed. After that, he was caught in a trap and injured his leg, which explains the many scars found on his leg to this day. He was kept indoors and nursed along until the leg healed.
   A couple of years ago, the nursery folded, and the land became part of a conservancy. With the exodus of the office staff, one-eyed-cat apparently went off in search of new digs. He had only to migrate a mile or so through the woods and up the hill to arrive at my neighbors’ back yard. There he was fed and provided outdoor shelter until last Christmas. Along came my wife, and you know the rest.
   My client was ecstatic to learn one-eyed-cat was not only alive but well. He phoned the ex-nursery manager, who still tends the property, to inform him of the cat’s well being and current residence. Both men obviously cared about this cat and were thrilled to learn of his status.
   Chewie’s is the happy story of a survivor. Rarely can we resurrect the past of an adult feral cat. But this cat’s unique identity, his friendly nature and his will to survive have provided us with an accurate account of his past.
   The best part of the story is the present. Chewie lives in the lap of luxury as he surely deserves. He struggled long and hard to get where he is today — comfortably curled-up in my lap!
   And by the way, he still loves to eat!