Age: 12 Years Sex: Female Weight: 12 lbs.
|Home:New York, NY ||[I have a diary!] |
Leave a treat for Smokey
Cecilia, Raccoon tail, Marble cake, Needles.
| ||Activeness|| || |
| ||Intelligence|| || |
| ||Curiosity|| || |
| ||Friendliness|| || |
| ||Vocal|| || || |
December 26th 2003
Love, Food, Blue Feather, Cats, Blanket, Watching TV (favorite show is The Dog Whisperer), getting brushed (she will flip over so that we can brush her other side).
Dogs, Touching the tummy, fast movements, being picked up, violating her rules.
Favorite Nap Spot:
keyboard, blanket, her treehouse.
Tuna, salmon, chicken, her brother's prescription Science Diet.
standing up for a long time on her back paws, pigeon call when she sees a pigeon, hunting.
Smokey Found us on the day after Christmas. I had left a blanket on the lounge chair inside the balcony of our room at Gurney's Inn in Montauk, Long Island NY. When we woke up in the morning, I looked out the window and saw a fuzzy thing inside the blanket. I thought it was a raccoon for a second, then I realized that it was a beautiful tortoiseshell cat. We got some tuna to lure her inside the hotel room, and then spent four hours trying to catch this wild feral thing--who climbed flat walls, pulled the screen out of a window and bapped away a king-size blanket with one amazingly powerful paw.
We wanted to at least get her spayed; there are way too many poor cats in Montauk (we saw one trying to get some heat under a car, and then, running to another car that had just parked). Long Island gets very cold, and many cats do not survive the winter. That night, Montauk was supposed to get three feet of snow; Smokey was very smart to have found us. All the Vet hospitals on Long Island were closed that day, so we drove 140 miles back to our own 24-hr vet hospital in Oradell, NJ. They gave her a complete check up, all the shots, and spayed her. The vet said that she was barely one year old, so this would have been her first winter. She was 100% healthy and chunky ( either she was a great hunter or a good garbage cat from the hotel). We decided to keep her; I'm certainly not going to throw her back into three feet of snow. Now the task was to tame her. The vets said that she was completely feral, not stray, "not handleable at all" they said, it would be a challenge.
I was able to search online and found a women who tamed many feral cats and had written a 40 pages booklet on how to tame a feral cat. One thing she said was to never take your arm away when they bite, kick, or bap you; keep your arm there no matter what, so they learned that biting/kicking/bapping does not work. Wow, that was FUN! :) I still have all the scars on my arm. Smokey was very food motivated, and that had made it alot easier to tame her. Everyday, we would hand feed her (she was in a huge crate the first month), and pet her a little and use a very soft sweet voice with her, this went on about three months. There were setbacks, but we never gave up, she trusted us more and more and would now come when we have food, she would answer to her name Smokey (she seems to love her name), and comes running to get food. As the days/weeks/months went by, with a little more petting everyday, she became more and more affectionate. She would rub our hands, faces and gets up on her back paws to beg. She loves feathers, and will go nuts hunting it when you put it under a blanket or pillow.
We are still working on picking her up, but she is already perfect to me, and no doubt the best Christmas present I've ever gotten, and ever will.
The night we found her, we got her fixed. The next day, when we went to pick her up, the vet handed us an Elizabethan collar, and said that we should put it on her after we get her home. We looked at the vet as if she were crazy; this is the cat who climbed flat walls and whom it took four hours to put in a carrier. We said, please, you guys put it on her. We sat outside the room and waited as they tried to put the collar on. For twenty minutes, we heard BANG, CRASH, BING. Something huge fell over--frames from the wall falling on the floor--more BING, BANG, CRASH. They finally came out with Smokey in the carrier, with the collar in hand, and said, Um, she is completely unhandleable, I'm sure she'll be fine without it.
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|November 4th 2006
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November 9th 2006 8:15 am
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I've receive many requests for the book we used to tame Smokey. Here it is : "Taming the feral cat" by Carrol Clancy, Edited by Lyn Shepherd. You can contact the author at 1435 West kanisku Street. Apache Junction, AZ 85220-7500 email: firstname.lastname@example.org
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