Consider yourself one of the family....

Our neutering frenzy came to an end as Covid entered our province.  As of March 9, 2020, we were in lockdown, "Zona Rossa." 

What better way to while away the time than to have four young cats get used to us and each other?

There were bumps along the way, things to learn, ailments to treat and kitty living arrangements to  shift and change, as their preferences and personalities blossomed.

My husband became the "designated shopper." We have, by Italian standards, a somewhat large refrigerator.  Not one of those side by side monsters like we had in the US with an ice machine and cold water dispenser, but what used to be considered a regular American fridge about 40 years ago.  I made up dinner plans and shopping lists so that we could get through two to three weeks at a time without needing a trip to the supermarket. 

I also started ordering cat food online because lugging it back in the quantities we needed was a herculean chore.  We had isopropyl alcohol, sanitizer, plenty of soap and paper masks so we were as prepared as we could be when life came to a screeching halt.

The "girls" came by every day for their dinner.  The babies inside went through some trial and error phases as I tried different food varieties, learned more about kitty asthma and dealt with tummy issues.

With April came milder weather, more sunshine and.....another kitten appeared out of nowhere.

At first I thought it was a rat.  Took me a minute to realize it was one truly ugly kitten.  I never thought there could be an ugly kitten, but here it was.  This "thing" was in bad shape.  I was afraid to approach it or touch it, Mamma and Inky hissed at it...I thought it could be ill and might die in a short while.  In the meantime, I didn't want the "girls" to get infected with anything, but they were keeping their distance.  I even wished it would just wander away, go somewhere else since no one here was interested.

But, the pathetic little thing showed up again and again.  In just a day or two, Mamma wasn't hissing anymore.  Ink didn't mind if this creature ate with them.  I had to call it something.  It's little face resembled that of a werewolf.  I didn't know the word for werewolf in Italian, so I shortened it to "Lupo" (wolf).  Good thing, too, since the word in Italian is "incantroppo" and I can't imagine naming anything "Incantroppo!"  

Lupo was a male.  His coat was a hot mess, dull, nondescript color or colors, a muddy mix of brownish, burnt orangey glop.  Once he was able to ingratiate himself upon my "regulars" he came around every day.  In no time at all everyone was calling him Lupo.  I got a text from my friend across the street "Lupo is waiting at your door."  !!!  

I was sitting on the bench in the courtyard, watching them all eat.  Lupo decided to come over and schmooze my leg.  And then he rolled over.  He was purring up a storm and then he climbed into my lap. I was still a little afraid of him, but that melted away pretty quickly.

He also adored Harry and followed my husband and Harry on EVERY walk, weaving in and out of Harry's paws.  

Right...you know what happened next.  I gave him a kitten dose of "Frontline" in case there were any fleas, and I treated his ears for mites with a mixture of vinegar and water.  He didn't even put up a fuss. 

So, how were we going to do this?  I didn't have to wonder too much because when all the others were sleeping after their morning meal, Lupo just marched right in the door.  "Honey!  I'm home!"  

He had no fear whatsoever and tried to approach everyone.  Everyone, however, was not interested.  Calzini was the first to break the ice when he decided it would be fun to have another playmate.  

Now that I could get a really good look at him, I could see that Lupo had some Siamese traits - triangular head, kinky tail, short fur and a very funky cry.  His personality is also...different.  Where the heck did he come from??

His coat has improved dramatically.  Now he appears to be a very shiny, very dark chocolate brown with a little white cravat on his chest. He is everybody's buddy and the most laid back, affectionate  and eccentric one of all.  I call him my little "lovebug"  as well as my rag doll, because when I pick him up, he just goes limp.  One day he was in the wrong spot for breakfast, so I slung him over my shoulder, where he flopped, until I deposited the two bowls where they belonged and then deposited him in his own cage.

Loop was neutered in October.  My best guess is that he was maybe a year old somewhere around December, a strange time for kittens to be born here but that just adds to his mystery.

 Five cats.  We now had five cats.  Don't go away...

There's a small hotel...

 Somehow during late January and early February we managed to trap and neuter Mamma Grigia and Ink.

Mamma was terrified and cried ALL the time.  All the time. All. The. Time. Even after the surgery, out of the "trap cage" and into a larger, comfortable recovery cage, she never stopped.  All day, all night.  Everyone was miserable.  I even asked Scruff to tell his damned mother to SHUT UP!!!  It didn't seem to have any effect, though.  After two days we set her free.  She took off like a streak of lightening and I thought we would never see her again.  But, lo and behold, she returned that very evening for some supper.

Ink was alright caged.  She didn't look very happy, but she didn't wail all the time. She was, however, like a wild animal at the veterinary office.  She tried to evade the injection to knock her out, she literally was screaming, flailing all over what little space she had, eyes popping out of her head.  It took four people and more than fifteen minutes to finally sedate her.  Back home, she was fine.  She was quiet and seemed content enough to have food and water, but her eyes said "Watch out!"  She took off like Mamma, but also returned soon enough.  

They both still come nearly every day.  Ink likes to tour the courtyard and will sometimes sit on the bench next to me and nap.  She also adores Harry and schmoozes him every chance she gets.  She even schmoozes us! Mamma remains skittish but she won't walk away from food.

Next on the list was the last kitten from Mamma Nera's litter.  A little gray guy.  He appeared to be all gray, but on closer inspection, he had white paws...so, we dubbed him "Calzini"...that's "socks' in Italian.  I know, I know...not inspired.

In truth, we didn't know if this kitten was male or female.  On the plumpish side, sort of small...and a big fan of Scruff's when Scruff was still out on the streets, I was leaning toward thinking this cat was female.

Well, Calzini was the easiest of all to trap.  A little tuna and kitty marched right in, the door slammed down with a loud "Whack!" and this cat didn't even blink.  Tuna!!! I was astonished.  Didn't miss a beat.  "I've got tuna, I'm eating tuna...I don't care WHAT else happens!  TUNA!!"

Once sedated at the vet's, he told us Calzini was maschio (male).  Davvero???  Si, maschio,  Ok, little guy....I had to adjust my thinking just a bit.

Back home, Calzini was easy once again.  Never a peep out of him.  "Gosh, thanks for all the nice food!  Fresh water?  How nice!  I LOVE this place!"  So, after 2 days of recuperation, and cold, awful weather outside...we.....hesitated.  I didn't dare say what I was thinking.  I did mention that he seemed to be quite happy with the hotel services.  I hoped we could wait until the weather improved, at least.

Finally, my husband said, "Well, we could bunk him up with Scruff, since they like each other anyway."   

And then there were four.

Help! I need somebody...

Mamma G. (G for grigia...or gray) had her kittens in March.  Mamma Nera (black) had a litter sometime in July.

One day while walking Harry along the passaggiata (walkway) around the back of town, three little heads popped up behind a fenced area to the right.  A gorgeous little tortie, an all gray kitten, and a little black & white one.  I said out loud, "Oh!  Each one gets cuter as they go along!"  

Soon thereafter Mamma Nera began bringing her babies to our "ristorante" on a daily basis.  The little black and white one (tuxedo) was the one with the biggest mouth.  

I walked out one afternoon with my hands full of two trays of food, a gaggle of cats at my feet, and that little tux let out such and loud and fierce wail it literally echoed in our little piazzetta.  I looked up and my neighbor across the street was looking out her window and laughing.  Mamma mia!  What a voice!  AND he was also very determined to be the first one at the food, so much so that he tried to climb my legs.  Being Italy, it was still quite warm in September and I was in shorts.  I had to fend off this little fella while trying to wade through a crowd of cats to the spot where I could put the food down, hoping not to have my legs mauled in the process.  As a result of his, shall I call it...his personality...I named him "Demon."

By the time January had rolled around, and the weather was cold and wet, feeding the cats became a more sporadic and difficult affair.  The ones most familiar with us would come into the cortile (courtyard).  This was fine for them, but not so pleasant for us...there is no heat in the cortile and the lights, at that point, were on a timer that only lasted 3 minutes, so whoever had babysitting duty had to constantly keep refreshing the lights and put up with being cold and uncomfortable. 

I had begun to notice that little Demon was, in fact, noticeably smaller than the other kittens...he wasn't growing at the same rate.  On several occasions it was noted that he had a bad cough.

I have come to learn about feline asthma.  It is rampant in street cats as it is not the same as human asthma, but it is transmitted by a virus.  Some cats are immune, others have mild cases and some have it severely.  There are medications but there is no cure.

We had Titi and Scruff inside.  My husband had said we could have three in all - and, indeed, we had three cages prepared.  I had not decided who the third should be.  I was hoping a cat would make that decision.

It was a dark and stormy night.  Snorfle.  Really, it was.  It was also very cold, but not freezing, just pouring big, fat, chilly drops.  I opened the cortile door and in ran the usual group...Mamma G, Ink, Sib, Mamma Nera and her gray kitten, and Demon.  

Demon came in but did not eat.  He looked terrible...small, wet...coughing.  I waited for the "gang" to finish and watched them head back out into the miserable night.  I closed the door, only to find Demon hunkered down in the corner. Clearly, he did NOT want to go back outside.  I went in to tell my husband to prepare the cage with water and some wet food.

Now, Demon had NEVER allowed me to touch him, no matter how I tried. He wanted food but absolutely nothing to do with humans.

When I got back to the cortile, he was still there, huddled in the corner.  I marched up, pet his head (!!) and then just scooped him up and brought him back to the dry, warm, soft perch in the cage.  I believe he came into the cortile that night to die.  Honestly, I expected to find a dead kitten in the morning.

Obviously, he made it, but he WAS small and sick.  He was also very grateful and continued to allow me to handle him, although he was so frail I often worried about "breaking" him.  We got him to the vet and started medications.  This little guy, like Scruff, had no desire to leave the safety of his cage. As I was petting him on his little perch soon thereafter, I felt a droplet on my hand.  I thought it was from his mouth...maybe he was "marking" me.  I watched carefully.  No, he wasn't marking me...he had tears fall from his eyes.  And then they were falling from mine.

As he continued to improve and feel better, as his little personality began to flourish, I realized I could not saddle him with the name "Demon."  Call me crazy, but I believe names have an influence.  So, we settled on "Imp."  He's just a little devil, after all.

Over time he came out and explored and started to play.  He was delighted to find the radiators and administered heat therapy to himself on a regular basis.

Food, water, heat, medications and lots of affection had their desired effects.  

Today, Imp is also known as "Il Capo"...The Boss...he has grown, his fur is thick and shiny, his eyes are bright, and when he walks he struts, tail up, like the little Boss that he is.  He still has the occasional cough but he is very much better.  He still prefers to sleep in a semi-upright position, which is adorable and I think it probably helps him to breathe.  At this point in time, he is healthier than Scruff. 

Now with three cats, we were done, right?   Well, not exactly......