Friday, November 04, 2005

My Nemesis- The Cautionary Tail of Osama Bin Kitty

Trust me. I do like cats. You already know I'll drop everything and look for a prodigal feline inclined to joyride. I tolerate Janet the cat jumping in my lap and kneading my belly everytime last time I sit down. I get up out of a dead sleep to let a cat meowing, "Let me in" while clawing on the window screen outside my bedroom window. Why don't those cats go to one of my son's (the owners) and jerk them clear out of dreamland instead of me?
However, there is one cat at Truevyne Farms which has become my nemesis. The mother ferrule cat, named TINO by my children and short for "This Is Not Ours", moved under our out building without permission and left a legacy of trouble when she departed our farm. Peace rescued one of her kittens from smothering under a pile of rubble, and as a result, felt he had a special life bond with the wild kitty. A few months later, this same kitten got stuck in our garage and against my severe warnings to let it be, he took it upon himself to "rescue" the cat again. I went to the garage several times and told the cautionary tale of the boy who got bit by a ferrule cat and had to get terribly painful rabies shots for weeks in a row to which Peace replied, "I won't get bitten." So, I directly addressed him, "Stop trying to catch the cat. I'll see stars if I have to take you to the ER tonight." I was certain he got my point and I walked back inside the house.
Not long after my departure, I heard a scream and then cries making their way towards me, "He bit me!" sob, sob "He bit me and after I saved his life! How could he?"


I immediately called a friend who is an ER doc. She gave me the skinny that in order to avoid rabies shots, one must find the offending cat, have its head chopped off and sent to Nashville to have its brains tested. Ewwww. It's rare for a cat to have rabies, but it is always fatal to humans and can only be treated by a series of expensive and not easily obtained injections. She recommended either catching the cat ASAP or getting to the ER.

Really big sigh...

My country neighbors (honest to goodness farmers) came over with a shot gun; the man whom I called couldn't resist bringing along the whole family. He camped out like a sniper until my dh arrived, so I could drive Peace to the ER. The innocent cat turned nemesis escaped capture and certain death by disappearing for the evening.

My doc friend set up our trip to the ER, and we received the most excellent care. However, after the third horrid shot into the wound on my son's finger, my son, myself and the nurse cried. She said my son looked just like her grandson. After two more gigantic shots in his rear, we made our way home at 1:00am.

Over the course of the next few weeks, we sought to capture the villain and end the series of rabies shots to follow; each injection cost much pain and $400. This is when the evil cat became known as Osama Bin Kitty. We caught *all* of TINO's other kittens, but never Osama. He was redubbed Mrs. Osama Bin Kitty when several more kittens appeared this spring.

Mrs. Osama's kittens have been spotted chasing our beloved free range chickens lately, and Buck decided to begin trapping these critters. First, he caught a skunk. A former wildlife officer had to take care of that nasty problem. Next, we captured a cat or two, and finally an opossum. All these creatures were released to more friendly environments than our farm. But today...

OSAMA was finally trapped. She definitely didn't have rabies or she'd have been dead a long while ago. Grrrrr. I gloated over her cage in the picture below before Buck hauled her off to Guitmo.

Noone expects the enemy to be a really pretty gal with beautiful green eyes and sleek coat.


unquenchableworshipper said...

The Chicken Terror Alert Level has been lowered to yellow with this capture. We are all breathing a sigh of relief.

PS. TINO stands for "This Is Not Ours"

Running2Ks said...

Oh man, you caught the would-be evil kitty. I hate that your son had to suffer to learn that lesson, poor little guy.

Sounds like a wild time.

~m2~ said...

looking at the picture of the next post, mackerel tabbies are gorgeous and i have one named lily.

what you described as behavior i can vouch for (the kneading, especially).

thank you for commenting on my blog - i am happy to meet you and feel already we probably have a lot in common :)