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......