For Adopted Cats-Ever Wonder What Their Life Was Like Before You Adopted Them?

"m. L. Briggs" wrote in message
...
On Fri, 28 May 2004 11:17:42 -0500, "MaryL"
-OUT-THE-LITTER wrote:



Have I told you how much I enjoy your thoughtful posts"? If not, I am
telling you now.


Thank you very much. You have just *made my day.*

MaryL

Oh, poor Amber. I am so glad you got her. You truly saved her from a life of
abuse. The kind that some "cat lovers" inflict on their cats, but no less than
abuse all the same.
I"m still really puzzled about Biskit. She is just so lovey-dovey she *had* to
be well socialized even as a kitten. Someone handled that cat a lot. She runs
up to me and FLOPS down, hard, to be rubbed. She's always in your lap. The only
thing she is afraid of is the outdoors. I can't help wondering if she got lost
somehow from the original owners. She has an old injury on her side that the
vet says looks just like a BB gun wound to him. It really makes me wonder. I"ve
had lots of strays, but never one that settled in and became so devoted to
their owners so fast as her.

Sherry

Oh, poor Amber. I am so glad you got her. You truly saved her from a life of
abuse. The kind that some "cat lovers" inflict on their cats, but no less than
abuse all the same.
I"m still really puzzled about Biskit. She is just so lovey-dovey she *had* to
be well socialized even as a kitten. Someone handled that cat a lot. She runs
up to me and FLOPS down, hard, to be rubbed. She's always in your lap. The only
thing she is afraid of is the outdoors. I can't help wondering if she got lost
somehow from the original owners. She has an old injury on her side that the
vet says looks just like a BB gun wound to him. It really makes me wonder. I"ve
had lots of strays, but never one that settled in and became so devoted to
their owners so fast as her.

Sherry

Oh, poor Amber. I am so glad you got her. You truly saved her from a life of
abuse. The kind that some "cat lovers" inflict on their cats, but no less than
abuse all the same.
I"m still really puzzled about Biskit. She is just so lovey-dovey she *had* to
be well socialized even as a kitten. Someone handled that cat a lot. She runs
up to me and FLOPS down, hard, to be rubbed. She's always in your lap. The only
thing she is afraid of is the outdoors. I can't help wondering if she got lost
somehow from the original owners. She has an old injury on her side that the
vet says looks just like a BB gun wound to him. It really makes me wonder. I"ve
had lots of strays, but never one that settled in and became so devoted to
their owners so fast as her.

Sherry

On Fri, 28 May 2004 12:46:16 -0500, "jmcquown"
wrote:

CajunPrincess wrote:
Periodically I wonder what his life was like with whoever had him
initially. I wonder what name they gave him and how he was treated.
Nothing in his condition or behavior really gives a clue.

I don't know about Persia's past. She was definitely a house-cat at some
point; she'd been spayed and front-declawed.

She showed up at my back door on January 3rd, 2001. She was yowling to be
let inside. I know she didn't live here before since I'd been living here
nearly 4 years and she was only around 3 years old. I admit, I tried to
shoo her away. She wouldn't listen to me. Kept coming back. As the sun
set the temps dropped into the 20 F degree area and I couldn't stand the
thought of her just sitting out there. I opened the door. She cautiously
entered and checked out the digs.

That night she crept up on the bed, purring loudly and rather distressedly.
She slept on the pillow over my head.

I took pictures of her, printed and hung out flyers around the neighborhood;
canvassed the area vets and shelters. No one knew where she came from. The
apartment manager thought perhaps someone had moved out and left her there
so she just sort of picked me to be her meowmie.

Now she sleeps curled up in the crook of my waste with her head resting on
I just love spell checkers. Don't you mean waist, Jill?

a : a sparsely settled or barren region : DESERT b : uncultivated
land c : a broad and empty expanse (as of water)
2 : the act or an instance of wasting : the state of being wasted
3 a : loss through breaking down of bodily tissue b : gradual loss or
decrease by use, wear, or decay
4 a : damaged, defective, or superfluous material produced by a
manufacturing process: as (1) : material rejected during a textile
manufacturing process and used usually for wiping away dirt and oil
cotton waste (2) : SCRAP (3) : an unwanted by-product of a
manufacturing process, chemical laboratory, or nuclear reactor toxic
waste hazardous waste nuclear waste b : refuse from places of
human or animal habitation: as (1) : GARBAGE, RUBBISH (2) : EXCREMENT
-- often used in plural (3) : SEWAGE c : material derived by
mechanical and chemical weathering of the land and moved down sloping
surfaces or carried by streams to the sea

Sorry, I just had to do it.


my hip and she's soooo sweet. Big loss, the people who left her. I've got
a lovely loving cat who is now about 5 years old.

Jill

On Fri, 28 May 2004 12:46:16 -0500, "jmcquown"
wrote:

CajunPrincess wrote:
Periodically I wonder what his life was like with whoever had him
initially. I wonder what name they gave him and how he was treated.
Nothing in his condition or behavior really gives a clue.

I don't know about Persia's past. She was definitely a house-cat at some
point; she'd been spayed and front-declawed.

She showed up at my back door on January 3rd, 2001. She was yowling to be
let inside. I know she didn't live here before since I'd been living here
nearly 4 years and she was only around 3 years old. I admit, I tried to
shoo her away. She wouldn't listen to me. Kept coming back. As the sun
set the temps dropped into the 20 F degree area and I couldn't stand the
thought of her just sitting out there. I opened the door. She cautiously
entered and checked out the digs.

That night she crept up on the bed, purring loudly and rather distressedly.
She slept on the pillow over my head.

I took pictures of her, printed and hung out flyers around the neighborhood;
canvassed the area vets and shelters. No one knew where she came from. The
apartment manager thought perhaps someone had moved out and left her there
so she just sort of picked me to be her meowmie.

Now she sleeps curled up in the crook of my waste with her head resting on
I just love spell checkers. Don't you mean waist, Jill?

a : a sparsely settled or barren region : DESERT b : uncultivated
land c : a broad and empty expanse (as of water)
2 : the act or an instance of wasting : the state of being wasted
3 a : loss through breaking down of bodily tissue b : gradual loss or
decrease by use, wear, or decay
4 a : damaged, defective, or superfluous material produced by a
manufacturing process: as (1) : material rejected during a textile
manufacturing process and used usually for wiping away dirt and oil
cotton waste (2) : SCRAP (3) : an unwanted by-product of a
manufacturing process, chemical laboratory, or nuclear reactor toxic
waste hazardous waste nuclear waste b : refuse from places of
human or animal habitation: as (1) : GARBAGE, RUBBISH (2) : EXCREMENT
-- often used in plural (3) : SEWAGE c : material derived by
mechanical and chemical weathering of the land and moved down sloping
surfaces or carried by streams to the sea

Sorry, I just had to do it.


my hip and she's soooo sweet. Big loss, the people who left her. I've got
a lovely loving cat who is now about 5 years old.

Jill

On Fri, 28 May 2004 12:46:16 -0500, "jmcquown"
wrote:

CajunPrincess wrote:
Periodically I wonder what his life was like with whoever had him
initially. I wonder what name they gave him and how he was treated.
Nothing in his condition or behavior really gives a clue.

I don't know about Persia's past. She was definitely a house-cat at some
point; she'd been spayed and front-declawed.

She showed up at my back door on January 3rd, 2001. She was yowling to be
let inside. I know she didn't live here before since I'd been living here
nearly 4 years and she was only around 3 years old. I admit, I tried to
shoo her away. She wouldn't listen to me. Kept coming back. As the sun
set the temps dropped into the 20 F degree area and I couldn't stand the
thought of her just sitting out there. I opened the door. She cautiously
entered and checked out the digs.

That night she crept up on the bed, purring loudly and rather distressedly.
She slept on the pillow over my head.

I took pictures of her, printed and hung out flyers around the neighborhood;
canvassed the area vets and shelters. No one knew where she came from. The
apartment manager thought perhaps someone had moved out and left her there
so she just sort of picked me to be her meowmie.

Now she sleeps curled up in the crook of my waste with her head resting on
I just love spell checkers. Don't you mean waist, Jill?

a : a sparsely settled or barren region : DESERT b : uncultivated
land c : a broad and empty expanse (as of water)
2 : the act or an instance of wasting : the state of being wasted
3 a : loss through breaking down of bodily tissue b : gradual loss or
decrease by use, wear, or decay
4 a : damaged, defective, or superfluous material produced by a
manufacturing process: as (1) : material rejected during a textile
manufacturing process and used usually for wiping away dirt and oil
cotton waste (2) : SCRAP (3) : an unwanted by-product of a
manufacturing process, chemical laboratory, or nuclear reactor toxic
waste hazardous waste nuclear waste b : refuse from places of
human or animal habitation: as (1) : GARBAGE, RUBBISH (2) : EXCREMENT
-- often used in plural (3) : SEWAGE c : material derived by
mechanical and chemical weathering of the land and moved down sloping
surfaces or carried by streams to the sea

Sorry, I just had to do it.


my hip and she's soooo sweet. Big loss, the people who left her. I've got
a lovely loving cat who is now about 5 years old.

Jill

CajunPrincess wrote:
I adopted Sabastian and Kona as adults, meaning they both have a
"past". I know something about Kona's background was because he was
turned into the clinic (which houses cats for adoption as well in
conjunction with a rescue group) as an 11 year old by the family that
had been bringing him there for years. But Sabastian, who was about 3
years old when I adopted him, was a "door dump"-he was left at the
doorstep of the clinic in a carrier, something which I assume happens
at most shelters.

Periodically I wonder what his life was like with whoever had him
initially. I wonder what name they gave him and how he was treated.
Nothing in his condition or behavior really gives a clue. He was
neutered but not declawed. He doesn't seem to be particularly scared
of anything. He's best described as being a lovebug on his own
terms-he likes being held and petted for discrete periods of time, but
after some time (and those periods seem to be getting longer) he
decides that he's had enough and wants to go do other things. He likes
to have places of his own but he also will sleep on his back with his
legs all splayed out in the middle of the floor. He definitely isn't
clingy, although he likes being around me and other people even when
he's had his quota of lovin' for the time being. He's not at all a
"talker", in fact he rarely meows. I sometimes wonder if his sparse
vocalization is a relflection of his upbringing, but it could also
just be the way he is. Whatever life was like for him at his original
home, he seems to have been physically well cared for and there aren't
any signs of mistreatment.

I know that people give away pets for all sorts of reasons and I guess
it'll always be a mystery as to why his original owners didn't want
him anymore. He's a healthy 12 lb long haired black domestic breed
(although when he wants to be held he likes to melt in your arms like
a ragdoll, he doesn't seem to have any of the other characteristics of
that breed) Not an unusual looking cat but very attractive. He's by
far the most athletic cat I've ever been around, but he's not really
bad about jumping on things like the kitchen counter that I would
prefer he not get on. He's real fastidious and always uses the
litterbox. He and Kona have settled down to a roomate kind of
relationship with only occasional spats, so I would tend to doubt that
there was another cat that he couldn't get along with.

At least his original owners had the decency to make reasonably sure
he'd be taken care of even if they didn't have the gumption to bring
him in to the shelter themselves. Did his original owner get married
to someone who was allergic or didn't like cats? Run out of money to
take proper care of him and decide not to tempt fate? Had to move
away and just didn't want to bother taking him? I guess I'll never
know and Sabastian isn't inclined to discuss the matter. In the end I
suppose all that really matters is that we're both very happy he's
here.

I wonder about this a lot actually because I often think to myself how
lucky we are to have Oliver. My husband was walking our two retrievers
when the dogs insisted on taking a right instead of their normal left
when they got to the corner. Like they just knew they had a date with
destiny. :-) They were walking down a busy street when this teeny tiny
kitten popped out of the bushes and started rubbing against the dogs.
The kitten was probably 10 or 11 weeks old and weighed less than 3
pounds. He was starving, dirty (looked like motor oil on the top of his
head) and he had what looked like peck marks on the top of his head.
From the moment we got him home he was constantly on someone. Sitting
on my shoulder, sleeping on the dogs, purring in my husbands lap. It
seemed like this little love bug must have been someone's kitten because
he loved both dogs and adults but we did search and no one came forward
to claim him. He was terrified of kids and autos so I don't know if
some kids mistreated him or if the motor oil and scabs on his head came
from a close encounter with a car...He had one or two fleas but he
didn't have worms. There were two other kittens in the area that were
known to be from a abandoned mother cat but those kittens stuck together
so I don't know if they were Oliver's siblings.

What I think about the most, tho, is if he wasn't feral how someone
could have either dumped him or lost him. He is so loving. If someone
lost him how come they didn't move heaven and earth to get him back? I
would have. How could someone dump such a precious little soul? I know
people do but I will never understand.
--
Margaret Fine

CajunPrincess wrote:
I adopted Sabastian and Kona as adults, meaning they both have a
"past". I know something about Kona's background was because he was
turned into the clinic (which houses cats for adoption as well in
conjunction with a rescue group) as an 11 year old by the family that
had been bringing him there for years. But Sabastian, who was about 3
years old when I adopted him, was a "door dump"-he was left at the
doorstep of the clinic in a carrier, something which I assume happens
at most shelters.

Periodically I wonder what his life was like with whoever had him
initially. I wonder what name they gave him and how he was treated.
Nothing in his condition or behavior really gives a clue. He was
neutered but not declawed. He doesn't seem to be particularly scared
of anything. He's best described as being a lovebug on his own
terms-he likes being held and petted for discrete periods of time, but
after some time (and those periods seem to be getting longer) he
decides that he's had enough and wants to go do other things. He likes
to have places of his own but he also will sleep on his back with his
legs all splayed out in the middle of the floor. He definitely isn't
clingy, although he likes being around me and other people even when
he's had his quota of lovin' for the time being. He's not at all a
"talker", in fact he rarely meows. I sometimes wonder if his sparse
vocalization is a relflection of his upbringing, but it could also
just be the way he is. Whatever life was like for him at his original
home, he seems to have been physically well cared for and there aren't
any signs of mistreatment.

I know that people give away pets for all sorts of reasons and I guess
it'll always be a mystery as to why his original owners didn't want
him anymore. He's a healthy 12 lb long haired black domestic breed
(although when he wants to be held he likes to melt in your arms like
a ragdoll, he doesn't seem to have any of the other characteristics of
that breed) Not an unusual looking cat but very attractive. He's by
far the most athletic cat I've ever been around, but he's not really
bad about jumping on things like the kitchen counter that I would
prefer he not get on. He's real fastidious and always uses the
litterbox. He and Kona have settled down to a roomate kind of
relationship with only occasional spats, so I would tend to doubt that
there was another cat that he couldn't get along with.

At least his original owners had the decency to make reasonably sure
he'd be taken care of even if they didn't have the gumption to bring
him in to the shelter themselves. Did his original owner get married
to someone who was allergic or didn't like cats? Run out of money to
take proper care of him and decide not to tempt fate? Had to move
away and just didn't want to bother taking him? I guess I'll never
know and Sabastian isn't inclined to discuss the matter. In the end I
suppose all that really matters is that we're both very happy he's
here.

I wonder about this a lot actually because I often think to myself how
lucky we are to have Oliver. My husband was walking our two retrievers
when the dogs insisted on taking a right instead of their normal left
when they got to the corner. Like they just knew they had a date with
destiny. :-) They were walking down a busy street when this teeny tiny
kitten popped out of the bushes and started rubbing against the dogs.
The kitten was probably 10 or 11 weeks old and weighed less than 3
pounds. He was starving, dirty (looked like motor oil on the top of his
head) and he had what looked like peck marks on the top of his head.
From the moment we got him home he was constantly on someone. Sitting
on my shoulder, sleeping on the dogs, purring in my husbands lap. It
seemed like this little love bug must have been someone's kitten because
he loved both dogs and adults but we did search and no one came forward
to claim him. He was terrified of kids and autos so I don't know if
some kids mistreated him or if the motor oil and scabs on his head came
from a close encounter with a car...He had one or two fleas but he
didn't have worms. There were two other kittens in the area that were
known to be from a abandoned mother cat but those kittens stuck together
so I don't know if they were Oliver's siblings.

What I think about the most, tho, is if he wasn't feral how someone
could have either dumped him or lost him. He is so loving. If someone
lost him how come they didn't move heaven and earth to get him back? I
would have. How could someone dump such a precious little soul? I know
people do but I will never understand.
--
Margaret Fine

CajunPrincess wrote:
I adopted Sabastian and Kona as adults, meaning they both have a
"past". I know something about Kona's background was because he was
turned into the clinic (which houses cats for adoption as well in
conjunction with a rescue group) as an 11 year old by the family that
had been bringing him there for years. But Sabastian, who was about 3
years old when I adopted him, was a "door dump"-he was left at the
doorstep of the clinic in a carrier, something which I assume happens
at most shelters.

Periodically I wonder what his life was like with whoever had him
initially. I wonder what name they gave him and how he was treated.
Nothing in his condition or behavior really gives a clue. He was
neutered but not declawed. He doesn't seem to be particularly scared
of anything. He's best described as being a lovebug on his own
terms-he likes being held and petted for discrete periods of time, but
after some time (and those periods seem to be getting longer) he
decides that he's had enough and wants to go do other things. He likes
to have places of his own but he also will sleep on his back with his
legs all splayed out in the middle of the floor. He definitely isn't
clingy, although he likes being around me and other people even when
he's had his quota of lovin' for the time being. He's not at all a
"talker", in fact he rarely meows. I sometimes wonder if his sparse
vocalization is a relflection of his upbringing, but it could also
just be the way he is. Whatever life was like for him at his original
home, he seems to have been physically well cared for and there aren't
any signs of mistreatment.

I know that people give away pets for all sorts of reasons and I guess
it'll always be a mystery as to why his original owners didn't want
him anymore. He's a healthy 12 lb long haired black domestic breed
(although when he wants to be held he likes to melt in your arms like
a ragdoll, he doesn't seem to have any of the other characteristics of
that breed) Not an unusual looking cat but very attractive. He's by
far the most athletic cat I've ever been around, but he's not really
bad about jumping on things like the kitchen counter that I would
prefer he not get on. He's real fastidious and always uses the
litterbox. He and Kona have settled down to a roomate kind of
relationship with only occasional spats, so I would tend to doubt that
there was another cat that he couldn't get along with.

At least his original owners had the decency to make reasonably sure
he'd be taken care of even if they didn't have the gumption to bring
him in to the shelter themselves. Did his original owner get married
to someone who was allergic or didn't like cats? Run out of money to
take proper care of him and decide not to tempt fate? Had to move
away and just didn't want to bother taking him? I guess I'll never
know and Sabastian isn't inclined to discuss the matter. In the end I
suppose all that really matters is that we're both very happy he's
here.

I wonder about this a lot actually because I often think to myself how
lucky we are to have Oliver. My husband was walking our two retrievers
when the dogs insisted on taking a right instead of their normal left
when they got to the corner. Like they just knew they had a date with
destiny. :-) They were walking down a busy street when this teeny tiny
kitten popped out of the bushes and started rubbing against the dogs.
The kitten was probably 10 or 11 weeks old and weighed less than 3
pounds. He was starving, dirty (looked like motor oil on the top of his
head) and he had what looked like peck marks on the top of his head.
From the moment we got him home he was constantly on someone. Sitting
on my shoulder, sleeping on the dogs, purring in my husbands lap. It
seemed like this little love bug must have been someone's kitten because
he loved both dogs and adults but we did search and no one came forward
to claim him. He was terrified of kids and autos so I don't know if
some kids mistreated him or if the motor oil and scabs on his head came
from a close encounter with a car...He had one or two fleas but he
didn't have worms. There were two other kittens in the area that were
known to be from a abandoned mother cat but those kittens stuck together
so I don't know if they were Oliver's siblings.

What I think about the most, tho, is if he wasn't feral how someone
could have either dumped him or lost him. He is so loving. If someone
lost him how come they didn't move heaven and earth to get him back? I
would have. How could someone dump such a precious little soul? I know
people do but I will never understand.
--
Margaret Fine