My Work In Progress

A couple Sunday’s ago you met my latest addition to my furry family. At that writing, this cross-eyed feline was called Trinity, the name Marin Humane gave her because she came from northern California. Since that day, her name has changed no less than 4 times. Hey, it’s not so easy naming someone you’re still getting to know.

For instance, when I decided to keep this semi-feral, I made a list of possible names with help from my friend Loretta. After all, she was spot-on naming Dash…entirely apropos for that madman. So for a couple days Trinity was Willow. But as I got to know her better, she wasn’t exactly graceful or willowy. This girl has a touch of crazy.

Then I called Trinity Sadie, although she didn’t look like a Sadie (whatever that looks like). That name soon became Chloe. But no matter how often I said it, it made absolutely no impression on her. In fact, I believe she ignored me even more than usual. Besides, Chloe is one of the top 10 names for female cats and she doesn’t strike me as a particularly trendy feline. So I went down my list of 12 names and said each one to her while looking for some sort of approval, maybe a look my way, a blink. Anything. But I got nothin’.

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Lesson Learned (Finally)

I have 4 cats and 4 dogs. All my cats were once living a feral life and of the 4, Savannah is still semi-feral. She heads for cover whenever someone stops by. If cats could cringe, that’s what she’d do when I pick her up. When all the others gather in the family room in the evening, she retires upstairs. I’d say she’s a cat who enjoys her own company.Savannah on counter

During the day, the animals come and go through the pet door to enjoy the backyard. But then one day Savannah discovered how to access the front yard via the hot tub, a short leap onto the fence, a walk alongside the shed, then down into the front garden under the maple tree.

maple tree

Savannah’s garden escape

To Savannah, I suppose it felt like the feline version of the movie, The Shawshank Redemption. I am free at last

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My Groovy Guy, Dash

Last week you met Dash, the feral-turned-domestic-cat I adopted when his allergic guardians had to give him up because he wanted to come inside. Dash

But it wasn’t an easy decision for me. Yes, he’s very sweet and about as laid back as a 1970’s hippy, just high on life — a groovy guy filled with peace and love. So no, it wasn’t Dash that made my decision difficult. It was Taffy.

Taffy with paws to mouth

Really? It was me?

As you know, Taffy is my 10 pound Papillon mix. She’s the tiniest of my pets, yet I believe the one most feared — including and especially by Dash. Turns out he’s a big wuss. The first 2 weeks after I brought him home, I told him often: I’m afraid I won’t be able to keep you if you keep letting Taffy scare the bejeebers out of you. But I don’t think he believed me. Continue reading