tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50536128705400459662024-03-13T00:53:15.753-07:00Mother Catresa's ChronicleMother Catresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17144356337749666139noreply@blogger.comBlogger54125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053612870540045966.post-35983752354338655062017-03-12T13:15:00.001-07:002017-03-12T13:15:58.485-07:00I'm baaaaaack ...Yes, we really are returning now to KITT-FM, where it's all kittens, all the time. And now, broadcasting live from our studios in Purrbank, Cat-ifornia - heeeere's your hostess, Mother Catresa!<br />
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<br />
Hi everyone!<br />
<br />
Has it really been five years since I posted? Really? The last post is dated from 2012.<br />
<br />
I can't believe it. What happened?<br />
<br />
Well, Mama C is just as busy as ever taking care of foster kitties, but she got burned out from all of the professional writing she does, and just ran out of energy for the fun, free-time stuff. In the past few years, I started off by freelancing outside of my full-time job at a newspaper, and got busier and busier. Then, at the end of 2015, I was laid off from that newspaper job. And since then, I have been tackling the freelancing full time.<br />
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Yes, I am still as busy as ever as a writer. But, Mother Catresa's Chronicle has brought so much joy and amusement to both my and my readers' lives. So, I have decided, I must make the time to start blogging again. I may not post as often as I used to, but I aim to write here at least monthly.<br />
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After all, my door remains a revolving one for kitties in need. And every kitty has its own story to tell - in fact, probably several stories worth telling, per feline.<br />
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I am happy to be back here! Please keep reading, and share this blog with anyone you think would enjoy it.<br />
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Until next time, I remain,<br />
<br />
Mother Catresa<br />
Patron Saint of Homeless Felines<br />
(and the "smitten kitten")<br />
<br />Mother Catresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17144356337749666139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053612870540045966.post-76707545575735350372012-06-25T12:03:00.001-07:002012-06-25T12:05:46.034-07:00Their kingdoms comeWe finally return to KITT-FM, where it's all kittens, all the time. And now, broadcasting live from our studios in Purrbank, Cat-i-fornia - heeeeeeere's your hostess, Mother Catresa!<br />
<br />
Hi folks!<br />
<br />
Well, you know you're a delinquent blogger when you plan to write about your new litter of kittens, then realize that you forgot to write about the last litter first. See, the last litter - the Douglas kittens, named after two dear friends - included one with a kidney defect, and the heartache that goes with that. Plus, the background story of how those kittens got their names is a long, sweet one that needs to be told.<br />
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So, stay tuned for my next post about the "Dougies." In the meantime, behold the names of my new litter! Due to the right male/female breakdown, I have gone with a long-awaited "World Leaders" name theme, bubbling with silly puns. Are you sitting down?<br />
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I have four males, and they are: Meow Tse-Tung, Mouse-o-Lini, NaPawleon and Genghis Khat. And the lone girl? Cleocatra. Funny and cute, eh? Yes, indeed, even if I do say so myself. :)<br />
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This litter features four black kittens, and one brown tabby (Mouse-o-Lini). However can I tell four blackies apart? So far, I am going by the amount of white whisps on their chests, or lack thereof. But I can't tell from a distance who is who - except for little Cleocatra, a girly-girl who is more petite than her brothers. And, bless her adoring heart, she is the friendliest of the bunch - just like my Gormly Girl (G.G.), who looked just like Cleo as a kitten. Cleocatra is the first to purr for Mama C, and she gazes up at me with wonder. Oh, to be admired!<br />
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Until next time, I remain,<br />
<br />
Mother Catresa<br />
Patron Saint of Homeless Felines<br />
(and the "smitten kitten)Mother Catresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17144356337749666139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053612870540045966.post-38443876109927639822012-03-20T11:18:00.000-07:002012-03-20T11:18:27.238-07:00Whiteout, the SequelWe now return to KITT-FM, where it's all kittens, all the time. And now, broadcasting live from our studios in Purrbank, Cat-i-fornia -- heeeeere's your hostess, Mother Catresa!<br />
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</div>Hi folks!<br />
<br />
Isn't she beautiful? Her name is Bella, and she is the second white cat in a row that I have fostered. Snowball, the longhaired Angora lion, is happily settling into his new home, while this beauty stays in my guest room, and waits for me to take her to a Petsmart cage. I sleep in Bella's room a few times a week, and love the warm fuzzies she gives me.<br />
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As is often the case, I am appalled by how Bella ended up with us. A man called a woman who works at a vet's office, saying that his girlfriend had dumped her cat outside at a farm. Said girlfriend's rationale? The kitty more likely would survive there than at a kill shelter. The vet woman, who later called my organization, told the guy to go find that cat -- unspayed, not surprisingly -- and bring her in. I thank that thoughtful man for helping, and hope he breaks up with that heartless biyatch of a girlfriend. Imagine what kind of mother she'd make!<br />
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Bella's short, pure-white fur makes a pretty backdrop for her stark, unusual eyes: one blue, one green. She is sweet, but has a sassy side too, and sometimes gets overstimulated while petting. She might suddenly hiss during a loving petting session, but it's harmless, and she'll purr and come back for more, often within seconds. I honestly don't mind this peculiarity, though I wish I could break her from the habit (I'm trying, that's for sure, and she's made some progress). Bella is so lovely otherwise that I overlook this flaw. She would do best in a home without children, who could easily annoy her with too much, or too rough, petting, and get bitten.<br />
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Truth is, I'd keep Bella if I could. I love white cats -- I had two as a child -- and I am falling in love with this fair-headed beauty. Therefore, I must take her to Petsmart very soon, before my heart starts negotiating my cat population limit with my head.<br />
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Now, on the spring equinox, I have some exciting news to announce: I am getting my first litter of kittens tomorrow! The four babies come from a nice neighborhood stray cat that a kind woman took in before calling us (Foster Cat, Inc.) for help. Mom and babies are staying in the basement, and I will pick them up tomorrow night. <br />
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So long as the male-female breakdown works -- I need at least two girls, and at least one boy -- I am naming this litter after the family of two of my dearest friends from middle school: twin sisters Joy and Erin, and Douglas (their last name, and good name for a male kitten). And the mommy cat will be Bonnie, who is Joy's and Erin's human mom.<br />
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Who are these namesakes, you ask? Now, that's another story. It's a loooong story. It's a sweet story. And it's a story still highly relevant to my life, two lifetimes later. Remind me to tell it to you sometime.<br />
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Until next time, I remain,<br />
<br />
Mother Catresa<br />
Patron Saint of Homeless Felines<br />
(and the "smitten kitten")Mother Catresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17144356337749666139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053612870540045966.post-87354710572575687352012-02-15T13:49:00.000-08:002012-02-15T13:49:47.910-08:00Hoo-Hoo-Hoo-Hooooo, Whiteout!We now return to KITT-FM, where it's all kittens, all the time. And now, broadcasting live from our studios in Purrbank, Cat-i-fornia, heeeeeeere's your hostess, Mother Catresa!<br />
<br />
Hi folks!<br />
<br />
Punxsutawney Phil, the Pennsylvania groundhog who makes his prediction about the end of winter on Feb. 2, has spoken: it's several more weeks of winter for us. But I protest on grammatical grounds: you can't have six MORE weeks of winter when you didn't have much winter to begin with. It's been a bummer of a winter here in Pittsburgh: often cold, but way too springy, too early, and only two mild snowstorms. So much for that "In the meadow, we can build a snowman" lyric from that Christmas carol!<br />
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The deficient supply of the white powder, perhaps, makes the start of Mother Catresa's 2012 all the more appealing: I got a white cat to foster, and another one is coming to my house this week!<br />
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Snowball, as we named him, looks to be a purebred Angora. See the picture: Isn't he a beauty? His hair is long and silky, and pure white. Pure as the driven snow, so to speak (and I'm going by memory here, hehe.) He is very sweet so he definitely was someone's pet, although the calloused assclown turned him loose. A kind woman in the south Pittsburgh suburbs found the terrified kitty wandering through her neighborhood, took him in, and called us (Foster Cat, Inc.) for a permanent solution. I picked him up a few weeks ago, and he spent most of his time hiding under my guest room bed - which, incidentally, has black bedding. The poor guy's coat, undoubtedly beautiful when cared for, was covered in mats - he looked like a shredded wad of cotton.<br />
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Last week, I took him to a professional groomer to get him a "lion cut" - where they shave the cat's body, leaving just a mane and at least part of the tail. That's why he looks a bit funny, but frankly, I think he looks stunning even with his hairdo - er, hair-don't. Just wait until that coat grows back and he has an owner who actually cares for him!<br />
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Snowball now awaits adoption at the Petsmart in Cranberry Township. I had him for such a short time, but I hated saying goodbye to him. When he came out from under the bed, he was such a lovebug. He would sit high up on my chest, practically throwing himself against my throat. I almost got a few mouthfuls of messy white fur! <br />
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I love white cats. In fact, as a kid, I had two of them. Burt was the original, and Smudge - a white kitten, except for an Ash Wednesday-like smudge of gray on her forehead - came in high school. There's something about the non-color color white: It's a symbol of purity, innocence and beauty. A white cat, to me, looks sweet and radiant, like a ray of white light. And it reminds me of my very first kitty cats, those I had as a child.<br />
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And now, perhaps to lessen the blow of the crappy winter, a shorthaired white female named Bella is coming to my house. Yeah, another mighty whitey! She is at a vet's office now, after someone found her wandering and gave us a call. My black sheets and comforter will be covered with conspicuous white fur, and so will my black sweat pants and t-shirts. But, I have the opposite issue with my black cat Gormly Girl (G.G.): She gets her black fur all over my light clothes. <br />
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But as we animal lovers know, no outfit or bed is complete without a little bit of cat hair.<br />
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Until next time, I remain,<br />
<br />
Mother Catresa<br />
Patron Saint of Homeless Felines<br />
(and the "smitten kitten")<br />
<br />
P.S. Yes, that is my unpedicured foot sticking out in the picture. Don't laugh.<br />
<br />
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</div>Mother Catresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17144356337749666139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053612870540045966.post-12466179637159046112012-01-03T15:32:00.000-08:002012-01-03T15:32:57.847-08:00Mama C's 2011 CensusOK, I've been soooo bad about keeping up with the blog that I will just skip my usual opening radio blurb. You know that you're tuned into KITT-FM, and that I'm Mother Catresa, and that it's all kittens, all the -- well, at least some of the time.<br />
<br />
Mama C apologizes for her absence again. I have been so busy with the freelancing ventures I have taken on outside of my job - and truthfully, I hope to turn the chronicle into a paid, published venture, so maybe I'm saving myself for that. But no matter. It's been way too long, and I am sorry about that!<br />
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I now proceed with my New Year's tradition of rounding up the head count from Mother Catresa's sanctuary from the previous year. Fans, I now present to you the Class of 2011 from the University of Catsylvania at Pittsburgh!<br />
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= First, there was the litter of chocolate kittens in the spring: Meltaway, Truffle, Bon-Bon and Lady Godiva. All are happily adopted.<br />
= Then, along came the "Jack and the Beanstalk" kittens, with Jack, and Fee, Fi, Fo and Fum. All happily adopted.<br />
= Then came my pair of adults, Jack and Jill. The gray tabbies patiently alternated between my guest bedroom, where I slept with them twice a week, and a Petsmart cage for several months. A wonderful young couple adopted both cats together just before Christmas, and I was so happy. But, when Jack's and Jill's new parents left my house with the cats, I went upstairs to their room to start cleaning. With "Jingle Bell Rock" caroling in the background, I started to tear up, turned around and went back downstairs. God, I miss those kids, but am happy for them. They deserve to be full household pets, and not be confined to just one room.<br />
= Later in the summer, I took in a litter of six kittens, with an even male/female split. The boys were the Three Stooges - Larry, Moe and Curly - and the girls were a cutesy, girlie Buffy, Muffy and Trixie. Moe and Trixie -- both brown tabbies, with a white chest on Trixie -- are eagerly awaiting their forever homes. Could you be the one?<br />
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So, folks, Mama C's grand total of the year is 17 lives saved. May there be 18 or more in 2012!<br />
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As always, I remain,<br />
<br />
Mother Catresa<br />
Patron Saint of Homeless Felines<br />
(and the "smitten kitten")Mother Catresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17144356337749666139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053612870540045966.post-21419342506737168512011-09-23T10:53:00.000-07:002011-09-23T10:53:00.152-07:00I Tawt I Taw a Puddy-Tat!We finally return to KITT-FM, where it's all kittens, all the time. And now, broadcasting live from our studios in Purrbank, Cat-ifornia, heeeeeere's your hostess, Mother Catresa!<br />
<br />
Meow there, folks!<br />
<br />
Again, it's been way too long since I've posted on my blog. I've been so busy with freelance writing assignments and caring for kitties that I've slacked on this. But Mama C is baaaaaack, with a quick update.<br />
<br />
Indeed, Mama C has tawn many puddy-tats, and is about to tee many more tonight! I just wrote an item about a "Looney Toons" exhibit at Pittsburgh's ToonSeum, so Tweety Bird-style talk is tickling my funny bone. Remember how the yellow, feathered cartoon character used to say "I Tawt I Taw a Puddy Tat!" whenever he encountered, and always outsmarted, Sylvester the Cat? Hilarious.<br />
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OK, back to my update. For the past few weeks, I fostered a duo of teenage kittens (about 7 months old) named Jack and Jill. They are so cute and sweet! Although, Mama C is the one who went up the hill to fetch them a pail of water. They are both gray tabbies - Jill with a white stripe on her nose - and they are now back at the Northway Mall PetsMart. I hope and pray that they get a home together. I spent several nights sleeping with my furry residents in my guest bedroom. My own cats were a bit miffed by my infidelity, but they'll get over it.<br />
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Now, I received an e-mail this week from the local Humane Society, about how they are completely full and overrun with cats, because of owner surrenders. It is absolutely heartbreaking. When shelters are full and keep getting more animals, they sometimes have no choice but to euthanize. I can't stand it, and will do whatever I can to help. I offered both my guest bedroom for an adult cat, and my usual foster room for a litter of kittens, if need be. Sure enough, tonight, I am picking up an adult kitty, and a litter of six, 10-week-old tabby kittens.<br />
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Mama C will have a completely full house - I'll be alternating between two rooms to socialize my fosters - and it's a bit overwhelming. But I am in the business of saving lives, and that is not always convenient. I'd rather be spread thin than see a life lost. Pittsburgh friends, seriously, if you want to "volunteer" at my house and spend some time with my fosters, you are welcome to - and I'll cook you dinner and heat up a cup of apple cider for you!<br />
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Until next time, I "we-main," Tweety-style,<br />
<br />
Mother Catresa<br />
Patron Saint of Homeless Felines<br />
(and the "smitten kitten")Mother Catresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17144356337749666139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053612870540045966.post-70100235950985628022011-07-25T14:29:00.000-07:002011-07-25T14:29:03.403-07:00"Fee! Fi! Fo! Fum!"We finally return to KITT-FM, where it's all kittens, all the time. And now, broadcasting live from our studios in Purrbank, Cat-i-fornia - heeeeeere's your hostess, Mother Catresa!<br />
<br />
Hi folks!<br />
<br />
Good Golly, Miss Molly - was my last blog entry really in April? Shame, shame, shame! There's no excuse - no, not one!<br />
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Blame my unintentional hiatus on all the writing I do at my job, along with the extra freelance writing I've been doing outside of the newspaper. In fact, my story on Frankie the Trolley Cat - an extraordinary rescued feline that charms visitors at the Pennsylvania Trolley Museum - is published in the August issue of Cat Fancy magazine! Subscribers have this issue, but I'm not sure if it's replaced the July issue on newsstands yet. Please go get a copy - and the next time I see you, I will autograph it for you, like I did at the museum for "Frank the Trolley Cat Day" last weekend. Mother Catresa hopes to become a regular contributor to Cat Fancy, which is the purr-fect market for her!<br />
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So then - what's with the title of this blog entry? Isn't "Fee! Fi! Fo! Fum!" the slogan that giant used to chant when he was hunting Englishman Jack in the fairy tale "Jack & the Beanstalk?" Yes. And, silly me, I thought it would be a hilarious name theme for a litter of kittens that has been staying with me for about six weeks.<br />
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These kiddos came from a group of 11 in a Pittsburgh resident's yard. Two feral mother cats had kittens on the porch, and the woman called us (Foster Cat) for help. We split up the litters among two of us fosters, though we don't know exactly which ones come from each litter. I probably have a mix of siblings and cousins.<br />
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After I captured five of these babies - some skittish and hissy-spitty - and brought them home, I thought the head count seemed perfect for a wacky litter name I'd had in mind for a long time. I unpacked the 6-week-old kittens from the carrier, and chuckled as I entertained the cartoonish image in my mind of a bellowing voice, a green giant whose footsteps shake the earth, and a colossal green vine. Then, I named the babies, one by one: <br />
<br />
= Jack, a male orange tabby and white shorthair.<br />
= Fee, a male orange tabby longhair. (Incidentally, he farted a real stinker by my face last night. But that's neither here nor there.)<br />
= Fi, a female black shorthair.<br />
= Fo, a female tortoiseshell medium-hair.<br />
= Fum, a female gray tabby shorthair.<br />
<br />
Now, Jack and Fo have been just the sweetest little dollbabies from the very beginning, despite the somewhat feral family background. Fum was a bit on the fence. Fee, leaning toward the side where I am not. And Fi, bless her grumpy heart, didn't seem to want to get anywhere near the fence.<br />
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Well, to sum up the summer with the Jack & the Beanstalk kittens: Jack and Fo have been my cuddle buddies every day, and are just little darlings. Fum started to come around first, followed by Fee a few weeks ago. Fi made some tiny steps, but had a ways to go before she would be an adoptable pet. I would scruff her and force her to let me hold her for a brief time every day, even though she had a teenagerish "Ick!" look on her face as I stroked her. <br />
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I kept hoping and praying that she would pull a G.G.: be antisocial, like my Gormly Girl, and then make a dramatic turnaround one day. Fi is, after all, a black female kitten, just like my G.G. I figured that it wouldn't happen until her littermates were put up for adoption, and she was all alone in the room, with only me as a playmate. That's how it happened with Gormly Girl.<br />
<br />
But, on Saturday, I took Jack and Fum up to a Petsmart cage. And yesterday, even though Fee and Fo are still there, it happened: Little Miss Fi came up to me, cuddled up to my side to be petted, and p-p-p-purred! I gaped in delighted disbelief. It's such a triumphant feeling when that first purr happens; it's like a baby uttering "mama" or "dada" for the first time. Once they've broken the purr barrier, there's no going back. The kittens are now official, loving, adoptable pets!<br />
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So, tomorrow night, Fee and Fo will go to another open cage at a Petsmart. Only two per cage are doable. I'll keep Fi with me for a few more days, and give her more remedial "How to be a rock star" lessons in social graces, until another cage opens.<br />
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May the spirit of G.G. continue to transform Fi into a fiercely affectionate, outgoing kitty that will make someone a lovely pet.<br />
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Until next time, I remain,<br />
<br />
Mother Catresa<br />
Patron Saint of Homeless Felines<br />
(and the "smitten kitten")Mother Catresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17144356337749666139noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053612870540045966.post-13011809155571792622011-04-06T15:10:00.000-07:002011-04-06T15:10:10.059-07:00"911, What Is Your Emergency?"We now return to KITT-FM, where it's all kittens, all the time. And now, broadcasting live from our studios in Purrbank, Cat-i-fornia - heeeeeere's your hostess, Mother Catresa!<br />
<br />
Hi folks!<br />
<br />
I knew that the 911 operator would send help for me. She just had to. Remember all those old shows that showed firefighters rescuing cats out of trees? <br />
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And besides, I didn't know what the heck else to do but call.<br />
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"Allegheny County 911, what is your emergency?" the female dispatcher's voice said as I nervously paced along my front lawn, after checking out the second-floor window to the kittens' room. It was just after midnight on Sunday.<br />
<br />
"Can you hear me?" I said.<br />
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"Yes, maam," she replied. "What is your emergency?"<br />
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"This is a weird call," I warned her. I then explained the peculiar - but, to me, scary - nature of my emergency.<br />
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"I have a litter of kittens trapped in an upstairs bedroom," I said. "They knocked down this baby gate inside their room, and the gate wedged itself against the door. It's stuck, and I can't get in. And the only other way in to this room is through my upstairs window. And I don't have a ladder!"<br />
<br />
Now, I know that 911 operators surely have had far more bizarre calls than this one. Still, I could hear her confusion during a pregnant pause.<br />
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"Let me make sure I understand," the operator continued. "You said kittens are trapped in a room because of a baby gate?"<br />
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"Yes," I confirmed. "They have a baby gate just behind the door to keep them from running out of the room, and they knocked it over, so it's stuck between the door and the bookcase. And I have no way to get to them. They're really small!"<br />
<br />
Just minutes before, I was heading upstairs with the kittens' goodnight dinner of canned chicken and ocean whitefish food when I made the scary discovery. The door would not budge. So that was the thud I had heard while watching TV! <br />
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Trying not to panic, I started kicking at the door, hoping to dislodge the gate - but scared of hurting the kittens, whom I could see eyeing me curiously through the little crack I managed to create. But that's as far as the gate would go. I could not reach my arm inside. And after kicking several times, I could hear the wood start to splinter on the bottom left corner, by the hinge.<br />
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"Help me, Jesus!" I prayed. "Help me break into the room without causing severe damage to my house."<br />
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The only other option, I knew, was somehow climbing up a steep ladder, squeezing myself through the long, skinny, upstairs window, and jumping down, hoping not to break anything or land on a kitten. The phrase "between a rock and a hard place" came to mind.<br />
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I felt relieved when the operator responded.<br />
<br />
"Alright, maam," she said. "They said they'll come over to help."<br />
<br />
I was expecting to see a fire truck, but instead, a police car pulled up to the curb, and a nice young officer stepped out.<br />
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"Thank you so much for coming, officer!" I said. He took a look at my outside window, and then asked to look at the inside, because he didn't want to call the fire department unless necessary.<br />
<br />
I showed Officer Friendly inside and up the stairs. He started doing the same thing I was - kicking at the door - but he's a strong guy, and I worked on pushing in the upper portion, while he kicked the bottom. I told him, while he worked, that this must be one of the weirdest calls he's had in awhile.<br />
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"Oh, you'd be surprised," he said. "We get a lot of calls like this."<br />
<br />
"This" probably meant calls about animals, or people being trapped. I'll bet this particular circumstance was unique.<br />
<br />
After a couple of minutes, he barely snaked his hand through the door, and pulled up the gate.<br />
<br />
"Hallelujiah!" I exclaimed, just thrilled to see the kittens' sweet faces, safe and sound. And to see this incident end without having to file a homeowner's insurance claim (one that would probably be denied, anyway).<br />
<br />
I thanked the officer profusely and gave him a hug.<br />
<br />
"You're the best," I said.<br />
<br />
Then, I went upstairs to play and cuddle with my four new babies, whom I named with a chocolate motif (read my last posting for more about that.) I have Truffle and Bon-Bon (black and white males), Meltaway (orange and black male) and Lady Godiva (orange female.)<br />
<br />
And from now on, their gate - meant to catch them when they burst out of the open door and run under my legs - will remain outside the room, to create a holding pen for kitten overflow.<br />
<br />
Until next time, I remain,<br />
<br />
Mother Catresa<br />
Patron Saint of Homeless Felines<br />
(and the "smitten kitten")Mother Catresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17144356337749666139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053612870540045966.post-16584173803109306492011-03-28T09:44:00.000-07:002011-03-28T09:44:55.506-07:00Like a Box of ChocolatesWe now return to KITT-FM, where it's all kittens, all the time. And now, broadcasting live from our studios in Purrbank, Cat-i-fornia - heeeere's your hostess, Mother Catresa! <br />
<br />
Hi folks! <br />
<br />
Forrest Gump, in his childlike wisdom, gave us many good lines in that wonderful 1994 movie. And in a conversation yesterday with a friend, I used one of Gump's witticisms to talk about fostering. <br />
<br />
"Kittens are like a box of chocolates," I told my friend, Lane. "You never know what you're going to get."<br />
<br />
Indeed. And tonight, I will be picking up my first "box of chocolates" of the season from the Humane Society, and I am excited with the wonder and mystery of what the box will contain. Will I get orphans, or kittens with a mom? How many babies will there be? And the most intriguing question is, what will they look like? Will I get orange or brown tabbies? Black kittens? White kittens? Tuxedos? Grays? Or something else? <br />
<br />
Will the "box of chocolates" all be, say, peanut butter meltaway tabbies, or will it be one of those variety packs with some peanut butter, some caramel, some nutty, some raspberry creme, and others? <br />
<br />
I'll find out soon enough tonight, and I can't wait. Mama C will report back very soon! <br />
<br />
Until next time, I remain, <br />
Mother Catresa <br />
Patron Saint of Homeless Felines <br />
(and the "smitten kitten")Mother Catresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17144356337749666139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053612870540045966.post-58288254874623104592011-03-16T17:42:00.000-07:002011-03-16T18:45:41.440-07:00Um, Sorry ... Do We Know You?We now return to KITT-FM, where it's all kittens, all the time. And now, broadcasting live from our studios in Purrbank, Cat-i-fornia, heeeeeere's your hostess, Mother Catresa!<br /><br />Hi folks!<br /><br />I am thrilled to report that the two "handsome, single studs," as reported in my last post, have found their forever home - TOGETHER! Yes, the Good Lord has answered my prayer in exactly the way I had hoped: He found a lovely home for both Kitty and Simba, who are now enjoying their spacious house in a southern Pittsburgh suburb with a nice family, after spending nearly a year in my guest bedroom.<br /><br />And though I celebrate the cats' good fortune and happy future, I must admit that, selfishly, I felt a bit swatted in the face when I visited Kitty and Simba in their new home last week. See, it seems as if Mother Catresa already has been forgotten.<br /><br />I went to the new owner's home to drop off some paperwork - which I could have easily mailed, but I wanted to see the kitties one more time. The kind, hospitable owners showed me inside - and, just like he often did at my house, Kitty was hiding under the bed. Simba, on the other paw, was crouching under the dining room table, on top of a chair.<br /><br />"Simba, old buddy!" I exclaimed, as I stretched out my hand toward him, and said "Come here, come here!"<br /><br />Simba jumped down, looked up at me with seeming recognition, let out a little squeak, and lifted his nose, so I could pet it. But just as my hand touched his face, he bolted and ran down the hallway, making a beeline for the underbed world where his buddy awaited.<br /><br />"Well, you ungrateful ratfink," I grumbled.<br /><br />I followed Simba into the room, got down on my knees, lifted the bedskirt and peeked underneath - hoping, in vain, to summon out Kitty and Simba. But no such luck. Just like they did at my house when they were frightened, they just stared at me, and refused to budge.<br /><br />I jokingly said, "Oh gee, so <em>this</em> is the thanks I get? Foster mommy comes to see them again, and they don't even want to interact with me? Niiice."<br /><br />When I realized the cats weren't coming out, it dawned on me: perhaps I am like a nurse in the ICU. I may have saved and nurtured my patients, and they are grateful: however, I remind them of a traumatic time in their lives. After all, these boys met Mother Catresa when their old mama gave them up, and they lost the only home they knew. I'm sure they love me, in a way. But, let's face it: I am a reminder of hard times, and who wants to revisit that?<br /><br />Chances are, Simba saw me - and Kitty, heard me - and they thought that the big, bad lady was back with the cat carrier, waiting to snatch them and take them back to the Petsmart cage. Again. That's what the cats probably associate me with - and really, who can blame them?<br /><br />Well, Mother Catresa understands. This is just part of the work I do: letting go. Just like I remember all of my dozens of foster kittens over the years; but, if I saw them now, they probably would have no idea who I was. (Their adult selves, incidentally, would look quite different than the kittens I knew, too).<br /><br />And that's OK. I can live with that. Because even if they don't remember me, all of my furry alumni will forever dwell in my memory. And my role as a foster, really, is to prepare the kitties to be someone else's pet. Just like a parent's role is to prepare a child for adulthood. It ain't easy, but someone has to do it, right?<br /><br />I kept that in mind as I gave the family a warm "thank you" and wished them well, walked out to my car, and drove off - watching the road through my misty eyes.<br /><br />Until next time, I remain,<br /><br />Mother Catresa<br />Patron Saint of Homeless Felines<br />(and the "smitten kitten")Mother Catresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17144356337749666139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053612870540045966.post-45916304443960288402011-02-08T14:39:00.001-08:002011-02-08T15:00:59.968-08:00Two Handsome, Single Studs Are Looking for Love!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhppuXiZgU_aQu2lSXtPmljDgPIC8nTaVNx1ZG6t4FuyZ50LyKoYKb63B1PLomeAqt5Mdo-QPFWPdOf3JSnHpv4AqDA-C9WY216MpNjvsQFd-OgKDO_r0uPUQc9NZL9hadjd4S58GyY-0-z/s1600/FILE0076.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571456247927219298" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhppuXiZgU_aQu2lSXtPmljDgPIC8nTaVNx1ZG6t4FuyZ50LyKoYKb63B1PLomeAqt5Mdo-QPFWPdOf3JSnHpv4AqDA-C9WY216MpNjvsQFd-OgKDO_r0uPUQc9NZL9hadjd4S58GyY-0-z/s320/FILE0076.JPG" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdNFIsRiqIFuWFB-j0opF2SPNpsBMhDNL-T-nngMpHiQG9QLgfL4VxztlNH4Nf8O-NkPsPk6oCaC-V4PiEMntlxHrv2pFcz6mknS_CUH3fx76uDjSPPCJn4NjuqER1EkbtJc3KCVXlRlJh/s1600/FILE0074.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571456248978742306" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdNFIsRiqIFuWFB-j0opF2SPNpsBMhDNL-T-nngMpHiQG9QLgfL4VxztlNH4Nf8O-NkPsPk6oCaC-V4PiEMntlxHrv2pFcz6mknS_CUH3fx76uDjSPPCJn4NjuqER1EkbtJc3KCVXlRlJh/s320/FILE0074.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><div>We now return to KITT-FM, where it's all kittens, all the time. And now, broadcasting live from our studios in Purrbank, Cat-i-fornia, heeeeeere's your hostess, Mother Catresa!</div><br /><div>Hi folks!</div><br /><div>In lieu of telling stories about my cats, this time, I'll let them speak for themselves.</div><br /><div>You are about to hear from two declawed kitties: adult males Kitty (white) and Simba (orange tabby), middle-aged foster cats who have been hanging out in my guest bedroom for several months now. They really need a home - and perhaps a Mother Catresa fan, or friend of one, is that special someone.</div><br /><div>From Kitty and Simba:</div><br /><div>Meow! Thanks for listening to our plea. We truly have a sob story here: our elderly owner, with physical and mental struggles, could not care for us anymore, and had to give us up. We might have been euthanized at a kill shelter, but luckily, our mama is a friend of someone who knows Mother Catresa, and we ended up at her sanctuary.</div><br /><div>Mama C is one cool cat, for sure, and we have it pretty good with her: we have a nice, spacious room all to ourselves, and that sure beats the streets or death. But it's not the same thing as having a home and owner to call our own, and a house where we have the full run, rather than being isolated in a separate room. Thank God we have each other up here, to keep us company!</div><br /><div>We really would like to stay together, as we are lifelong companions. If we must be split up to get homes, we can live with that, but we hope we won't have to be separated. We are both declawed and shy, but very sweet and affectionate once we warm up to you. </div><br /><div>Will you please give us the loving home we want so badly, or help us find someone who will? We promise that good karma will come to you for helping needy felines. Trust us: with nine lives, we have good connections!</div><br /><div>Love,</div><br /><div>Kitty and Simba</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div></div></div>Mother Catresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17144356337749666139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053612870540045966.post-72243746304723534492011-01-17T16:23:00.000-08:002011-01-17T16:43:08.434-08:00Pomp and (belated) circumstanceWe now return to KITT-FM, where it's all kittens, all the time. And now, broadcasting live from our studios in Purrbank, Cat-ifornia - heeeere's your hostess, Mother Catresa!<br /><br />Hi folks!<br /><br />Much to some people's chagrin, I have a weakness for arriving, or doing things, fashionably late -- starting with my very entry into this world. I was supposed to be born right on Christmas, or within a day or two, in 1972. (That would be a bummer). Alas, my parents had to wait until next year for their tax deduction: I arrived two and a half weeks late, on Jan. 10.<br /><br />Yes, last Monday, I turned 38 - and, I already was tardy with Mother Catresa's annual graduation narrative of kitty graduates, which I usually write on or just before New Year's Eve. So, anticlimactic though it may be, here it goes.<br /><br />Mother Catresa, chancellor of the University of Catsylvania at Pittsburgh, is pleased to award her Scratchelor of Science degree to five felines in the Class of 2010 - along with one honorary degree for a dear classmate that was lost. My graduates: mother cat Tiger (a cabbie), and three babies: Sonny (orange tabby), Sherman (black) and Buf-Puf (buff tabby and white.) All four have found great homes. My honorary student - Chaz Bono, the male tortie kitten that I loved and lost to FIP - gets a posthumous award for fighting so very hard, and bringing so much joy into my life in the short few months he had with me. For more details about Chaz, please read a few posts down for that memorial.<br /><br />Mother Catresa's graduating class this year is smaller in quantity than in previous years, when she usually went through several litters in one season. However, working now with a rescue group instead of a shelter, adoptions might be slower - and, in a bad economy, everyone's adoptions probably were slower last year. But, the quality of a litter, and a life saved, does not degrade from a lack of quantity.<br /><br />I look forward to saving more lives in 2011. I'm dreaming of a furry year, and can't wait until the Kitten Fairy comes in the spring!<br /><br />Until next time, I remain,<br /><br />Mother Catresa<br />Patron Saint of Homeless Felines<br />(and the "smitten kitten")Mother Catresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17144356337749666139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053612870540045966.post-38233415207118672082010-11-16T10:24:00.001-08:002010-11-16T10:39:04.978-08:00Stinker and Bum-BumWe now return to KITT-FM, where it's all kittens, all the time. And now, broadcasting live from our studios in Purrbank, Cat-ifornia, heeeeeere's your hostess, Mother Catresa!<br /><br />Now, that sounded familiar!<br /><br />"Knock it off, stinker," the Petsmart employee warned the playful orange tabby cat named Nick, who kept popping his paws through his cage bars and slapping her on the back.<br /><br />I chuckled. Her, too? "Stinker" is such a common word in my household. And I thought it was funny to hear someone else say that, as I prepared to put one of my foster kitties, Simba, in his adoption cage.<br /><br />And then came the real kicker. To another cat - though I'm not sure which one - she said something like, "Alright, Bum-Bum."<br /><br />Bum-Bum? Seriously? That seemed like such random baby babble that I had made up for my cats. It's goofy, for sure, and absurd. And I thought it was hilarious that, of all things, someone else called cats with that nickname!<br /><br />Oh, the nicknames - the literal "pet names," I suppose - that we come up with for our pets. Aren't they adorable and funny? Here are just a few of mine: Stinker, Bum-Bum, Kitty Po-Po, Goofball, Joker, and Meow-Meow. What are yours? Mother Catresa would love to hear them.<br /><br />Now, I must say, that if someone were eavesdropping outside my house, they would be convinced that my cats' names are "Hey," "No," "Down," and "Uh-Uh!"<br /><br />Until next time, I remain, as my own nickname,<br /><br />Mother Catresa<br />Patron Saint of Homeless Felines<br />(and the "smitten kitten")Mother Catresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17144356337749666139noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053612870540045966.post-24606346690024774382010-10-12T10:16:00.000-07:002010-10-12T10:38:38.489-07:00Acht! Das Katzpiss!We now return to KITT-FM, where it's all kittens, all the time. And now, broadcasting live from our studios in Purrbank, Cat-ifornia - heeeeeeere's your hostess, Mother Catresa!<br /><br />Sssssssssss ...<br /><br />What's that for, you ask? I'll get to that in a minute. First, here's the background. The lone remaining kitten from this year's litter -- Buf-Puf, a buff and white tabby who was on medical hold for a long time because of a skin condition -- has been cooling his paws at my house for a week. He is taking a break from the PetsMart cage, and getting another injection for his skin.<br /><br />Since Buf-Puf was going batty up in the foster kitten room all by his lonesome, I decided to let him out to mingle with my resident cats. Surprisingly, my cats - even Dharma, the queen bee - aren't in the least bit phased by Buf-Puf. They're either curious and friendly - or, in Dharma's case, like, "Okay, whatever!" So, Buf-Puf has been enjoying the run of the house for a good portion of the day.<br /><br />And that brings me back to this: ssssssssssssssssssssss.<br /><br />Last week, I was sitting on my couch reading the paper, when suddenly, I heard this peculiar noise coming from behind me: ssssssssssss.<br /><br />Hmm, I thought briefly. Hey, you know what that sounds like?<br /><br />And then, startled and panicked, I got it. Oh, yes, I know EXACTLY what that sounds like - and given that nothing is behind me but a wall and a big box, there's only one dreadful thing that noise could be!<br /><br />Sure enough, I turned around and saw Buf-Puf, in all his squatting glory, baptizing ... my big cardboard box full of packaged Nutrisystem meals. What the .... Ick! Naughty! No, no, boy!<br /><br />I won't even try to decipher the message my little foster kitten was trying to send me with this lovely communication, and why Buf-Puf found packaged meals to be an appealing litter box is beyond me. But luckily, I still have plenty of Nutrisystem left. And, as always, Mother Catresa loves any opportunity for a good laugh. C'mon, what fun would pets be if you didn't have a sense of humor about mishaps like this?<br /><br />Until next time, I remain,<br /><br />Mother Catresa<br />Patron Saint of Homeless Felines<br />(and the "smitten kitten")Mother Catresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17144356337749666139noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053612870540045966.post-63987728404203721392010-09-06T15:00:00.000-07:002010-09-06T15:55:48.047-07:00Chaz Bono, March 2010-Aug. 10, 2010Dear Mother Catresa readers,<br /><br />This still just doesn't seem real, even after nearly a month.<br /><br />My beloved Chaz Bono kitten, at barely five months old, contracted the deadly FIP virus, and had to be euthanized on Aug. 10. It was a shocking and devastating turn of events for a kitten who was so full of life, spunk, enthusiasm and love. As FIP (Feline Infectious Peritonitis) goes, the symptoms came on suddenly and fiercely, like a hurricane, and stole Chaz's life within days.<br /><br />And it still doesn't seem real.<br /><br />My baby - an ultra-rare and special MALE tortoiseshell, a 1-in-3,000 anomaly - was so unique, and not just because of his XXY genes (see a few posts down for more about Chaz Bono, the transgendered kitten). His coat was a beautiful swirl of black and orange, and his purr-sonality was a precious swirl of friendliness, congeniality, love and affection. That baby just bubbled with joy and spirit, and showered me with x's and o's. Whenever I would walk into my guest bedroom, where he stayed with a littermate, Chaz would jump up and run like a puppy dog, and blast his purr like a motorboat. I would scoop him up in my arms, fall back on the bed, and go "Mwah! Mwah! Mwah!", kissing him and giggling while I lay him on my chest, with his back down. I would tickle his belly, saying "Bunny kicks, bunny kicks, Chaz-ee-poo!", while he thumped me with his furry hind legs.<br /><br />And it just doesn't seem real that my Chaz-ee-poo is gone.<br /><br />He had been up at a pet store, sharing a cage with his black brother, Sherman, for a few weeks. They still had not been adopted, as adoptions had been slow, and I was picking them up for a cage break at my house, and a medical break for Chaz. He was showing symptoms of a URI (upper respiratory infection), along with listlessness and a loss of appetite that came on quickly. Then, his sweet little belly - the one I had tickled so many times - rapidly bloated, as if he had swallowed one of those miniature basketballs. When I picked Chaz up, I immediately took him to the vet we use for an x-ray and exam.<br /><br />I knew that the symptoms could indicate FIP, but they could also signify far less serious diseases, so I just couldn't think the worst. No, it can't be FIP. Not my Chaz.<br /><br />But, alas, FIP was the heartbreaking diagnosis: the belly distention came from a yellow liquid that filled his torso. And that could only mean one thing: euthanasia. My baby, just barely beginning his life, had reached the end of his way-too-short time on earth.<br /><br />And it just didn't seem real. This couldn't be happening.<br /><br />As traumatizing as it would be, I very much wanted to be there for the euthanasia, to help escort Chaz into the next life, in Heaven. I knew I cannot yet go where he was going, but I wanted to be the last person he saw - and my hands, the last loving touch he felt - as he breathed his last on earth. But - due to both a power failure at the veterinarian's office, and a three-way miscommunication - I missed out on being there. I felt furious and crushed that I didn't get to say goodbye and share Chaz's final moments with him. Yet, now, I see the peculiar incident as a likely act of God, who knew that I would be so distraught that I would be out of work for several days, instead of one, and that I would be just a mess had I been there. (Though, if given the choice, I still would have opted for it.)<br /><br />That's why it just doesn't seem real: I didn't see my sweet kitten pass away, so it's difficult to accept in my heart that it really happened. I feel like I can't quite feel the grief fully, because it doesn't seem like Chaz died. It feels, often, like he just got adopted.<br /><br />And maybe that's how I should view this: that Chaz merely got adopted. Because in a way, I believe, he did: my dearly loved Chaz got adopted by God, and sat on Jesus' lap on that heartbreaking day I lost him.<br /><br />I want to believe that my baby is now frolicking in an emerald-green, sunny meadow, with thousands of other kittens that went before him, beneath the fabled Rainbow Bridge. Chaz is glowing with health and free of FIP - and probably of litterboxes, too. He is blissed out with unlimited catnip fields, toy mice, and clean drinking water from a glistening, pure waterfall. He's found other people to tickle his belly, now back to its normal size.<br /><br />Yes, my dear Chaz, you were adopted by God. I have to believe that. It's the only way I can survive this heartache: knowing that, though that awful disease claimed your life way too soon and robbed you of the life you deserved down here, you are now happy in another dimension. Waiting for me and your littermates to arrive and join you, once our time here is up. And smiling and purring from up above every time I rescue another kitty in need, just like you.<br /><br />I love you, Chaz Bono. I am so sorry about what happened to you. And I will carry you in my heart, and tickle your celestial belly, for always - until we meet again.<br /><br />Forever,<br /><br />Your Foster MommyMother Catresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17144356337749666139noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053612870540045966.post-2676868672923409832010-07-09T13:55:00.000-07:002010-07-09T14:20:41.765-07:00The Electromagnetic Air BubbleWe now return to KITT-FM, where it's all kittens, all the time. And now, broadcasting live from our studios in Purrbank, Cat-ifornia - heeeeeeere's your hostess, Mother Catresa!<br /><br />Hi folks!<br /><br />I promised that several new blog entries were forthcoming, and I am a woman of my word. Let's start with the funniest one, shall we?<br /><br />Dharma - my grey-and-white-tuxedo cat - has had several appointments with our veterinarian lately, due to an intermittent loss of appetite. The first step was blood tests, which showed elevated calcium levels. Then, we had to do x-rays, to make sure there wasn't a tumor or other issue on the inside. And there wasn't, thank God.<br /><br />Tee hee hee, Kellie - what's so funny about that? Nothing so far. It's what happened when my wonderful vet - Dr. Karen Hayworth, of Northview Animal Hospital in Pittsburgh's North Hills - came in to show me the x-ray photos and explain what I saw.<br /><br />"This is the heart, and it looks normal," she said. "This is the liver, and that also looks normal."<br /><br />We covered all of the organs from head to tail, from a side viewpoint. Then, she flipped to the next image, which showed a top view of Dharma's spine and trunk. It looked like a normal skeleton, except for a mysterious grey blob in the rib cage.<br /><br />"And this," Dr Hayworth said, "Is a gas bubble."<br /><br />I reacted incredulously.<br /><br />"A FART?!?!?! On an x-ray?!?!" I said, laughing.<br /><br />(Oh, I am <em>so</em> loving this, I thought. I feel, bubbling up inside me, a great, big, rip-roaringly funny ... blog entry!)<br /><br />"No, it's more likely a burp," the vet said.<br /><br />Whether it's the kind that escapes through the front or back door, though, doesn't matter. A flatus, of all things, showing up on an x-ray is pretty darn funny!<br /><br />When I left the exam room chuckling, I shared the story about the flatulent x-ray with staff and customers in the waiting room. We all had a good laugh!<br /><br />Now, the next time I need x-rays, I'll remember to skip the Diet Cokes, and refrain from eating beans and cauliflower for a few days. Especially if the doctor is a hottie.<br /><br />Gaseously yours,<br /><br />Mother Catresa<br />Patron Saint of Homeless Felines<br />(and the "smitten kitten")Mother Catresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17144356337749666139noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053612870540045966.post-43945537801471084052010-07-02T10:52:00.000-07:002010-07-02T11:01:05.358-07:00Mother Catresa Goes A.W.O.L.We, at long last, return to KITT-FM, where it's all kittens, all the time. And now, broadcasting live from our studios in Purrbank, Cat-ifornia - heeeeeeeere's your hostess, Mother Catresa!<br /><br />Hi folks!<br /><br />I must be in the dog ... er, cat house with readers. I haven't written since early May. What gives?<br /><br />So sorry about my absence. I have been so swamped writing for a living at the newspaper, and caring for an army of kitties at home, that I have been negligent with writing on my blog. But, I am brimming with blog postings yet to be written, because we have so much to catch up on! Stay tuned during the next few weeks for several postings on the following topics:<br /><br />= The seemingly miraculous adoption of adults Terry and Teddy during kitten season, and how it relates to serendipity in our personal lives.<br />= The 20-year anniversary of the famous kitten incident in my teen years that laid the foundation for becoming Mother Catresa later in life. (The anniversary, by the way, was a year ago. I know, I know. But the queen of procrastination never puts off until tomorrow what can be put off until next year.)<br />= The growth and development of my current litter of kittens and mom (including Chaz Bono; see previous post), and how they still haven't been adopted after three months. It's as disappointing as it sounds.<br />= Finally, the mysterious appearance of a ... er, gaseous bubble in my cat, Dharma's, x-rays. It's as funny as it sounds.<br /><br />Until next time, I remain,<br /><br />Mother Catresa<br />Patron Saint of Homeless Felines<br />(and the "smitten kitten")Mother Catresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17144356337749666139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053612870540045966.post-77170548882734460212010-05-03T15:50:00.000-07:002010-05-03T16:11:12.227-07:00I Got You BabeWe now return to KITT-FM, where it's all kittens, all the time. And now, broadcasting live from our studios in Purrbank, Cat-ifornia - heeeeere's your hostess, Mother Catresa!<br /><br />Hi folks!<br /><br />I said in a recent post that my first litter of kittens would be named after pancakes, with Mrs. Butterworth being the mom. I've had a change of plans with this litter: the mom already is named Tiger, and I have such a rare kitten (male tortie) that it calls for an extra-special name.<br /><br />I have learned that one in every 3,000 torties is a male - some .000001 percent. My little one is a very unique kitty, indeed; although I can't help but think that, if I were to anthropomorphize this fellow, he would struggle with gender identity issues. A male tortie is the equivalent of a human man with Klinefelter's Syndrome, which involves an extra X chromosome and can lessen the masculine appearance and likely kill fertility.<br /><br />So, I have named my adorable, prized baby ... Chaz Bono, after the famous, transgendered offspring of Sonny and Cher, who sing "I Got You Babe" and many other songs. Hahaha - isn't that cute? Now, if Tiger were nameless and a long-haired black cat, I'd definitely call her Cher. But, alas, the rest of the family is male, so I have come up with these names: the little runt orange tabby is Sonny, the black one is Sherman (a twist on Cher-man), and the buff and white one is a completely unrelated "Buf-Puf." He is poofy and buff-colored, and he just reminds me of the facial sponge, hence the name.<br /><br />I wonder if my little Chaz yearns to be Chastity? Well, he'll be neutered, so hopefully that will do the trick.<br /><br /><u>Until next time, I remain,</u><br /><u></u><br /><u>Mother Catresa</u><br /><u>Patron Saint of Homeless Felines</u><br /><u>(and the "smitten kitten")</u>Mother Catresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17144356337749666139noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053612870540045966.post-30316685988432125962010-04-20T13:50:00.000-07:002010-04-20T14:03:51.541-07:00Mama C's B&BWe now return to KITT-FM, where it's all kittens, all the time. And now, broadcasting live from our studios in Purrbank, Cat-ifornia - heeeere's your hostess, Mother Catresa!<br /><br />Hi folks!<br /><br />If only I got paid for what I do. I am running a full-blown Bed & Breakfast for cats at my Pittsburgh-area sanctuary!<br /><br />Downstairs, there are the usual daily tenants of Yours Truly, and the resident cats Rum Tum Tugger, Dharma, Gormly Girl (G.G.) and Tinsel. Then, go upstairs, and Terry and Teddy - two adult brothers - are cooling their heels in the guest bedroom, where they have been biding their time awaiting adoption for a few months. Then, the second door on the left is the kitten foster/office room, where I moved in a family on Saturday. I have mama cat Tiger - a brown tabby with some orange accents - and four kittens: a buff, orange, black, and rare male tortie. These sniffly babies need me a lot, for love, medical care and socializing. I alternate between their room and T&T's next door, with a lot of hand sanitizer in between. Then, my own cats get me the rest of the time, when I'm home.<br /><br />I hope that all of my guests are patient with me, and understand that I'm trying to run as hospitable a business as I can with many guests. At Mama C's B&B, guests are pampered, and fed a delicious breakfast of ... chicken or fish. Blech. I'll take the omelets and the cereal - and, of course, pancakes. See a few posts down: flapjacks are the theme for my next litter.<br /><br />Until next time, I remain in high demand, and -<br /><br />Mother Catresa<br />Patron Saint of Homeless Felines<br />(and the "smitten kitten")Mother Catresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17144356337749666139noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053612870540045966.post-78599930669660265152010-04-16T14:34:00.000-07:002010-04-16T14:45:26.262-07:00The Kitten Fairy Cometh!We now return to KITT-FM, where it's all kittens, all the time. And now, broadcasting live from our studios in Purrbank, Cat-ifornia - heeeeeere's your hostess, Mother Catresa!<br /><br />Hi folks!<br /><br />Be careful what you wish for, right? Well, I've been saying I'm ready for some kittens, but so far, a litter has not been offered to Foster Cat, the new group I'm working with. I thought I'd be waiting another month, when shelters start to get flooded.<br /><br />But, about an hour ago, the Humane Society of Western Pennsylvania contacted Foster Cat and said they had a "project" for an eager foster parent: a mom and four kittens who are being treated for upper respiratory and eye problems. I'm Mother Catresa, and "project" is my middle name! At that place I used to work, kittens that needed extra care (for socialization or otherwise) often were sent to me. I am eager, willing and ready to give these babies and their mama medical care and love and affection.<br /><br />So much for my planned pancake theme, though, discussed in my last post. The mom, a brown tabby, already has a name: Tiger, so she's not going to be Mrs. Butterworth. The babies are about five weeks old, mostly weaned, and include a cream tabby, an orange tabby, a black one, and - get this - a MALE tortie. No kidding! I am about to meet one of the rarest anomalies in the feline world. About 99 percent of tortoiseshell and calico kitties are female, because of the X chromosome involved with black and orange. The almost unheard-of male has a genetic glitch and is probably sterile, but otherwise, a normal kitty that is just a prized rarity.<br /><br />Oh, this is going to be fun. I pick them up on Saturday. Wish me well, and stay tuned!<br /><br />Until next time, I remain,<br /><br />Mother Catresa<br />Patron Saint of Homeless Felines<br />(and the "smitten kitten")Mother Catresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17144356337749666139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053612870540045966.post-3900851114452793772010-03-30T12:56:00.000-07:002010-03-30T13:09:11.728-07:00International House of KittencakesWe finally return to KITT-FM, where it's all kittens, all the time. And now, broadcasting live from our studios in Purrbank, Cat-ifornia - heeeeeere's your hostess, Mother Catresa!<br /><br />Hi folks!<br /><br />It's been way too long, hasn't it? I've been so swamped with planning the annual awards banquet for my Women's Press Club of Pittsburgh, and preparing to be a keynote speaker (very excited!) at a journalism function in Harrisburg next month, that I haven't been blogging for the past two months.<br /><br />I have much to catch up and fill y'all in on. But for now, here's just a quick blurb: kitten season is on the way! Yes, yes, yes! I'm chomping at the bit! Send 'em over, because Mama C is ready, Freddy.<br /><br />In fact, I already have a humorous name theme picked out for my first litter of the year. I wrote a story a few weeks ago about a maple syrup festival, and suddenly, I was craving pancakes. Then came the revelation: hey, that would make a great kitten litter name group, wouldn't it?<br /><br />I've got it all figured out. I'll name the mother cat Mrs. Butterworth, and the kittens will be: Aunt Jemima, Hungry Jack, Bisquick, IHOP, Grand Slam and ... anything else? Ideas welcome.<br /><br />Oh, I can't wait. Let the furr n' purr festival begin.<br /><br />Until next time, I remain hungry for breakfast, and,<br /><br />Mother Catresa<br />Patron Saint of Homeless Felines<br />(and the "smitten kitten")Mother Catresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17144356337749666139noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053612870540045966.post-15337654501863392962010-01-04T19:44:00.000-08:002010-01-05T09:22:59.586-08:00UC-Pittsburgh, Class of 2009We now return to KITT-FM, where it's all kittens, all the time. And now, broadcasting live from our studios in Purrbank, Cat-ifornia - heeeeeeere's your hostess, Mother Catresa!<br /><br />Daaaaaah, dah-dah-dah, daaaaaaaah-dah ...<br /><br />Is that "Pomp and Circumstance" I hear? Are those tiny caps and catnip-padded gowns I see?<br /><br />It must be. After all, it's the start of a new year again, and the University of Catsylvania at Pittsburgh has just graduated a new class of 16 student felines who came to Mother Catresa as orphans.<br /><br />The felines - mostly babies - attended kitten boot camp at Mother Catresa's sanctuary, where the kitties were loved, nurtured, and nursed as they blossomed into future pets for some lucky owners. Except for two current tenants - adults Terry and Teddy - all alumni of the Class of 2009 now are enjoying their forever homes.<br /><br />Following is a chronological list of kitties who, in 2009, earned their Scratchelor of Science degrees from UC-Pittsburgh:<br />= I started the spring with Orla and Lenore, two sister kittens whom I had for maybe just a week. Orla is a longhaired cream tortie, and Lenore is a black and white tuxedo.<br />= Then came Dorianna, a beautiful gray mother, and her newborn gray babies Malcolm and Inara. Watching them nurse warmed my heart. Aaaawwww ...<br />= Then, along came the girlie slumber party, with the female litter quartet of B/W tuxedoes Blythe and Basia, solid black Babe, and .... Oh, Brita! That beautiful, sweet gray and white baby that I bonded with so deeply. I fell in love with her, and miss her every day. She probably looks like a young lady by now.<br />= In July, I raised my final Animal Friends litter: black mother Gonzo, and her five newborn babies. I was devastated when the tiny black baby girl, who was named Gardner, died in the nursery when she was only a few days old. She will forever be in my heart, and the honorary 17th graduate of the year. The remaining littermates - gray Fleming, gray and white Gamble, black and white Gershon, and white and black cow-like Fleming - stayed with me through October.<br />= Last month, I took in Terry and Teddy, two sweet adult males who are orange and brown/black tabby, respectively. I am fostering them for Foster Cat, the Pittsburgh all-volunteer kitty rescue network for which I now work. I will write a posting about this other group soon.<br /><br />It has been an honor and a joy for Mother Catresa, chancellor of UC-Pittsburgh, to graduate these sweet, adorable, deserving kitties. She looks forward to, hopefully, an even more fruitful 2010, and hopes to save many more precious lives.<br /><br />Happy New Year, everyone!<br /><br />Until next time, I remain,<br /><br />Mother Catresa<br />Patron Saint of Homeless Felines<br />(and the "smitten kitten")Mother Catresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17144356337749666139noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053612870540045966.post-25359958827330864372009-12-12T18:51:00.000-08:002009-12-12T19:42:51.224-08:00193,573Dear readers,<br /><br />That was the final odometer count on my old "Little Red Skittle," before it was finally towed away.<br /><br />That Nissan 200SX and I spent 193,573 miles over 12 years together, from the prairies and skyscrapers of Dallas/Fort Worth to the cornfields of Illinois, to the hills of Pittsburgh and beyond. Just a few weeks ago, I said my final goodbye. (If you missed that story, regarding my sentimental attachment to the fatally wounded car, look a few posts down for the background.)<br /><br />I went up to the North Hills Firestone, where the car had been parked since its Labor Day breakdown as I figured out what to do next. I signed over the papers of my Texas title to the regional Goodwill Auto Auction.<br /><br />And then, completely unconcerned about how weird I might look to the mechanics, I pulled up my new Little Red Skittle - almost the exact same car, only newer and fancier - and parked the two cousins nose to nose. I took a little movie with my camcorder, and narrated the story of my car replacement, and the transition from Skittle One to Skittle Two.<br /><br />Then, I climbed into the old car, laid my head on the steering wheel I had held for so many hours of my life, closed my misty eyes, and reminisced about all the things this era of my life - and, thus, this car - represented. The cross-country moves. My life as a Texas girl that I thought would never end. My life in graduate school in the Midwest. My life as a Pittsburgh journalist that took me by surprise, and even exceeded my ambitions and dreams. All the exciting media banquets I have presided over as president of the Women's Press Club of Pittsburgh. All the people I have met, known, loved and parted with. All the dates and occasions for which I primped in that rearview mirror. All the American scenery I saw. All the conversations I had within those walls of metal and glass.<br /><br />The most recent and poignant memory, perhaps, was this: All those Animal Friends foster kittens I had transported in that car, back and forth to that place I called my second home for three years. And, with a heavy heart, I have to share this news: that part of my life, too, is no more.<br /><br />Not fostering itself: Mother Catresa is passionate about what she does, and will continue her work saving lives. But now, it will be with a different organization. (More on that later, but I already have started with two adult foster cats, Terry and Teddy, and I am excited to give my devotion and work to this great new group.)<br /><br />As it turned out, my car breakdown symbolically foreshadowed what soon was to come in my life: an unexpected twist for which I was unprepared, and that shook me up. Indeed, almost the exact same thing - doing foster work, only at a different place - soon came, just like my new Skittle car did. I have great hopes for my future, and know I will go on to persevere and thrive once again.<br /><br />Yet, I loved many of the people I met and befriended at Animal Friends, and I miss them deeply - especially during the Christmas season, when we shared wonderful Yuletide parties. I really feel the absence, and it hurts. To those people - you know who you are - know this: I cherished our time together, miss you, and hope to stay in touch.<br /><br />And to everyone at Animal Friends, I thank you sincerely for the opportunities you gave me, and the years we spent together as I learned and grew in my new venture as a kitten foster mama. I have wonderful memories, and learned skills, that will stay with me a lifetime.<br /><br />Mother Catresa is not truly gone: she is with you in spirit, still roaming the halls of Animal Friends. Still cracking jokes and being a goofball. Still beaming at you when she's happy to see you. Still lighting up when her kittens, and all the animals there, find their forever homes. And still writing her blog, which she hopes you'll continue to read and enjoy. Please don't forget me.<br /><br />May y'all remember me, especially, whenever you smell a gassy kitten. It gets me giggling every time.<br /><br />Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, dear readers.<br /><br />I remain, ever yours,<br /><br />Mother Catresa<br />Patron Saint of Homeless Felines<br />(and the "smitten kitten")Mother Catresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17144356337749666139noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053612870540045966.post-64929330095824519352009-11-14T21:11:00.000-08:002009-11-14T21:54:45.177-08:00Mother Catresa Goes Trick-or-TreatingWe now return to KITT-FM, where it's all kittens, all the time. And now, broadcasting live from our studios in Purrbank, Cat-ifornia - heeeeeere's your hostess, Mother Catresa!<br /><br />Hi folks!<br /><br />So, what makes a true friend after all?<br /><br />Many would cite these characteristics: Loyalty. Trustworthiness. Reliability. Honesty. Integrity.<br /><br />I love - in fact, require - these characteristics in close friends. But do you want to know what really makes someone stand out as a keeper?<br /><br />Someone who dresses up as me for Halloween.<br /><br />Yes, you read that right. Aw, ain't that a sweet hoot and a half?<br /><br />You see, my friend from graduate school - Cousin Catnip from the Cornfields, who is the subject of a self-titled blog post a few entries back - decided to honor Mother Catresa for her work rescuing homeless kittens. Catnip - otherwise known as Jaime Ingle, from Illinois - created a Mother Catresa nun costume for All Hallow's Eve by adorning the habit with cat ears, and painting black whiskers and a nose on her face. Check out these pictures. (Note: this is the first time the technologically challenged Mama C actually uploaded photos onto her blog!)<br /><br />When people naturally asked Jaime what the heck she was supposed to be, Catnip told her friends the story of me - her friend in Pittsburgh who has a passion for rescuing homeless kittens, and giving them all the love they can stand. Now, Mother Catresa has a fan base in the Midwest.<br /><br />Hey, Jaime? I'm very flattered, amused and tickled pink. I have to say, I also am quite relieved that the Kellie costume didn't involve some scary, gory mask.<br /><br />Thanks for your support and fandom, sweetheart. They say that imitation is the highest form of flattery.<br /><br />With love from,<br /><br />Mother Catresa<br />Patron Saint of Homeless Felines<br />(and the "smitten kitten")<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV4Fledb5Rg70nyCSzQboR28nAiDjwqTySRQP0lHA5BTHIX2by9_Bku2eBpMy2nJdryRAAN1upyS82RKXrbg5mh52ABzUSIfpy0XinoCnkx9yqiiMInyGAedpcigpGAanYHZZavA5wNKaM/s1600-h/catnip2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404198435670008722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV4Fledb5Rg70nyCSzQboR28nAiDjwqTySRQP0lHA5BTHIX2by9_Bku2eBpMy2nJdryRAAN1upyS82RKXrbg5mh52ABzUSIfpy0XinoCnkx9yqiiMInyGAedpcigpGAanYHZZavA5wNKaM/s320/catnip2.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisaLpl29cmjYOK0rV39DnBiB1fFDzH9isZTwJW3oHSuNPy7p3M5cIEChqNRg4T-1sLO81iY4afDq1gujJKrLSip96S4HqXL9Yl-tU4jtnxBuFIE3effIhFGoIqHyPBmgBFS8C4yK_ZJSGD/s1600-h/catnip1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404198429276989458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisaLpl29cmjYOK0rV39DnBiB1fFDzH9isZTwJW3oHSuNPy7p3M5cIEChqNRg4T-1sLO81iY4afDq1gujJKrLSip96S4HqXL9Yl-tU4jtnxBuFIE3effIhFGoIqHyPBmgBFS8C4yK_ZJSGD/s320/catnip1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div></div></div>Mother Catresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17144356337749666139noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053612870540045966.post-50317093836531673722009-10-13T11:43:00.000-07:002009-10-13T12:01:12.557-07:00Cats and Dogs and ... Hamsters? Oh, My!We now return to KITT-FM, where it's all kittens, all the time. And now, broadcasting live from our studios in Purrbank, Cat-ifornia - heeeeeeere's your hostess, Mother Catresa!<br /><br />Hi folks!<br /><br />I am crazy busy this week, but I just couldn't resist this quickie sound bite about an odd but delightful new development at Animal Friends. Apparently, a recent humane rescue involving an irresponsible snake owner wielded several homeless hamsters. The kindhearted humane agents rescued the hamsters, at least a dozen of them, and brought them in to Animal Friends, where they await adoption in individual cages.<br /><br />Normally, the shelter adopts out cats, dogs and rabbits. But now, many adopters are surprising themselves by instead leaving with tiny, furry hamsters burrowing under sawdust. Shelter workers gave many of the rodents ham-themed names, like Hampshire, Ham Salad, and the like. Clever!<br /><br />Now, as for me, I would love to take home a cute little hamster. That is one pet that I never had, even with a lifelong Noah's Ark-type lineup that included cats, dogs, parakeets, a rabbit, a hermit crab and even an Arabian horse. My high school friend, Lori Friedman, once jokingly called my childhood house "Animal Kingdom!" Surely, it's tempting to adopt a pocket pet and bring it home.<br /><br />Yet, something tells Mother Catresa that - in a household of four cats, plus any number of baby, razor-toothed carnivores at a given time - a rodent is not the wisest choice of pets. Even if I could keep the hamster in a safe, high place, the poor thing probably would have a heart attack just peering down at the circling feline predators down below who view it, literally, as a ham salad.<br /><br />Yes, indeed. A hamster is tempting. But for Mother Catresa, wouldn't having a pet hamster be like Charlton Heston of the NRA owning a pet deer?<br /><br />Until next time, I remain,<br /><br />Mother Catresa<br />Patron Saint of Homeless Felines<br />(and the "smitten kitten"0Mother Catresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17144356337749666139noreply@blogger.com2