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Rebecca during her wild, alley cat days.
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Rebecca now. No cushion too soft and no loving too much.
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It's been a long, strange trip for Rebecca.
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She was part of a trap, neuter, release (or adoption) project I conducted more than five years ago for the feral, "alley" cats in the back of my apartment building who, up until that point, were breeding like rabbits.
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Healthy kittens were fixed and placed for adoption, as were a couple of easily socialized young adults. (I personally kept one of the cats, Jill, along with the four I already had.)
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Although young and appearing healthy at the time, Rebecca unfortunately tested positive for FIV ("feline AIDS") as did her sister, father, and very feral mother.
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All four cats were neutered, vaccinated and held at my vet's until otherwise healthy and recovered enough to be released back to the alley.
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That is where they stayed while I continued to monitor and feed them every night over the ensuing years.
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A couple of years ago, the wild mother (a tabby cat named "Mika") managed to somehow escape the alleys and got onto the city streets. I later heard through a neighbor, that a rescue group successfully trapped Mika and were working to socialize and place her. But, in the years I knew and fed Mika, I was never able to touch her. She was extremely feral and thus I am not sure what luck the rescue group had with her. The good news was that the then 6 or 7-year-old cat was out of the alleys.
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But, Rebecca, her sister, Ronda and her father, Robbie remained. Of the three cats, Rebecca and Ronda became affectionate and trusting over the years, while Robbie remained aloof and untouchable.
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A couple of years ago, I took photos of Rebecca and Rhonda and promoted them on social media and adoption sites seeking foster or adoptive homes. But, there were no offers.
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There were many times I worried over the cats. Particularly over the brutal winters of 2013 and 2014. We had more than 60 inches of snow during the winter of 2013 and the frigid cold the following winter caused thousands of water birds to starve to death on iced over lakes and ponds in the north east. Even this past winter, temperature at one point plunged to 1 degree below zero in NYC.
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But, through it all, the three robust cats not only survived, but thrived. All three developed particularly thick and dense coats in the winters and I made sure they were consistently well fed.
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Then, a few months ago, Rebecca suddenly disappeared. I looked everywhere for her and questioned neighbors and local stores. I checked lost and found Internet sites everyday and the city pound (Animal Care and Control).
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But it was as if Rebecca had simply vanished into thin air. There was neither sign nor sighting of her anywhere for more than two weeks.
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Feeling despaired and horribly guilty, I said a prayer and attempted to "make a deal" with God. I promised that if Rebecca showed up again, I would immediately rescue and take her in.
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Then, a few days later, I gazed out my window one rainy morning and to great shock and relief, finally saw Rebecca!
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But, it was pouring rain and Rebecca looked really, really bad.
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She was thin, filthy, soaking wet, appeared listless and dull and there was a deep indentation in her tail, as if she had been trapped somewhere.
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Worst of all, she was in the adjoining alley separated by a tall, steel fence!
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Not stopping to think about anything, I filled a dish with cat food and ran down to the alley. I had to pray Rebecca was hungry and strong enough to climb the fence and come to me.
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Fortunately, Rebecca responded and slowly made her way to me.
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Shocked at how weak and dehydrated she was, I immediately picked up Rebecca, held her close to me and ran upstairs to my apartment as fast as I could. She neither had the strength nor will to try and break away.
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I brought Rebecca to my bathroom, where I quickly set up food, water, litter box and blanket.
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But first, I had to dry her off as she was completely rain-soaked to the bone.
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The dirt, caked mud and filth on the cat turned the fluffy white towel completely black within seconds.
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I had rescued hundreds of stray and alley cats in the past, but never one as filthy and "black" as Rebecca.
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It was apparent that she must have been trapped in some very filthy basement for the two weeks as nothing in the alleys could have produced that much dirt and grime.
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I actually went through several towels that morning with Rebecca and even so, the once gray and white cat appeared mostly blackish. There was no white to be seen at all. Moreover, the denseness of her thick winter coat only compounded the stuck-on grime and filth problems. It was as though the dirt was Krazy-glued to her coat and body, never to come off.
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The indentation on her tail was not an open wound and thus appeared that it would eventually heal. But I was not sure that either Rebecca or I would ever get all the dirt off. She settled down in my bath tub quickly turning the white to a dark gray, ashen color.
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I then had to think about how this "feral" cat was going to suddenly adjust not only to being in a human home, but to five other cats and a dog! Would my other cats even accept Rebecca?
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Rebecca's positive "FIV" status was not concern to me as Jill, my other cat rescued from the same alley years before was also FIV positive. FIV is not easily transmittable to other cats (other than through bites or sex) and to be frank, doesn't appear to compromise the cats in any way. Rebecca was, after all, a cat who had survived blizzards, extreme heat, all kinds of storms and even below zero air temperatures.
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But, whether Rebecca could suddenly "adjust" to indoor life and strange animals was a whole different question. Would she spend her life hiding or attempting to escape back to the familiar yards that had been her "home" her whole life? Would my other cats bully and terrorize her? Would she miss the two cats she had grown up with and had relationship with? Would Rebecca view my dog as a threat and attack him?
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These concerns I had serious doubts about.
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But, as matter eventually turned out, all the reservations, hesitancies and fears I ever had about taking Rebecca in were completely baseless.
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I kept Rebecca in the bathroom for the first two weeks. It provided a safe, secure place for her as well as affording opportunity to clean herself up. Most importantly, it allowed me the chance to pet, pick her up and socialize her. I discovered Rebecca loved being petted and nuzzled in my lap.
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But, after two weeks, Rebecca showed signs of curiosity and desire to expand her horizons. She wanted to see what was on the other side of the door.
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One of the things that had always impressed about Rebecca during her years in the alley, was her cheerful and confident disposition. There was always an air of optimism and forbearance about her -- as if nothing could get her down or upset or even frightened. I recalled seeing her navigating thick snow banks, making her way through puddles and drenching rains and holding up during single digit wind chills. Through it all, Rebecca (and her sister, Rhonda) always maintained the same sense of stoicism and cheerful acceptance of circumstance. Their tails were always raised high in the air and both cats enjoyed their nightly rounds of petting and nourishment regardless of whatever nature had to dish out.
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But, would it be the same in a completely foreign environment?
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Rebecca was a cat who had never (over six years) been exposed to indoor lighting, TV, music, vacuum cleaners, litter boxes, furniture or living with a human -- not to mention, my other animals.
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But, that same air of confidence, adaptability and optimism that had served Rebecca so well during the tough years in the alleys also served her in my home.
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Though at first a little cautious and tentative, Rebecca quickly gained her footing throughout my apartment and greeted my other cats (and dog) with politeness, cheer and respect.
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There were no fights, kufuffles or conflicts of any kind. It was as if Rebecca had been here the whole time.
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But, perhaps the biggest surprise of all was just how well and how fast Rebecca "took" to the comforts of indoor living and human company!
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Within days of being released from the bathroom, Rebecca was enjoying naps on the furniture (electing never to sleep on the hard floor or hide) and coming to me for attention and petting.
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In fact, Rebecca has become so demanding of pets and belly rubs, my other cats have to compete now for any left over affection. Moreover, Rebecca especially likes being picked up and nuzzled like a baby!
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Who knew any of these things about Rebecca when she was eking out survival in the dark, foreboding alleys?
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Rebecca is making up now for all the affection and attention she missed over six long years. She literally can't get enough of it.
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She has in fact, become a "diva."
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I feel bad of course that I did not pick Rebecca up a lot sooner. I feel bad too, that her equally sweet sister is still out there. (On the other hand, picking up Rhonda, would leave her very feral dad all alone. -- Something I am hesitant to do in light of the relationship between the two cats. Were something to happen to Robbie, I would pick up Rhonda.)
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It is always hard to predict the outcome when deciding to rescue and take in a so-called, "feral" adult cat.
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Many will have a difficult transition from the outdoor life to life in a human home with all the trappings that go along with it. Many ferals will remain skittish and easily spooked for life.
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But, for whatever strange reason and despite her very feral parents, Rebecca was always meant to be with humans and in a human home.
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I suspect from the moment she was born, Rebecca was a diva at heart.
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