ALL ABOUT BOSCO

 

What's this? Another post about cats??
Relax, comrades. It's better than hearing about my problems. This is a (sort of) extension of my previous post, Too Many Cats.

When I was living in Texas and taking care of about thirty (yes, thirty) stray cats, there were two kittens (from different litters) who were extremely sick and near death. 

I kept the kittens in the house and did my best to nurse them back to health. Eventually, I decided to adopt them.

Bosco and Scruffy were born only two weeks apart and were related. They both had the same father but different mothers.
Despite being very sick kittens, they survived into adulthood.

Unfortunately, Scruffy only lived four years and died of a respiratory infection.

Bosco celebrated a birthday last month and is now eight years old. He has an enormous amount of respiratory and allergy problems but is much stronger and resilient than Scruffy was.

When Bosco was a kitten, he was so tiny and frail that he looked like an undernourished chihuahua. I never thought he'd survive. Today, he's huge, robust, and heavy - despite ongoing health issues.

I originally named him Rosco, but somehow Bosco sounded more appropriate. My choice of names had nothing to do with the popular chocolate drink.

Bosco and Scruffy were inseparable. They ate, played, and slept together. Bosco was noticeably upset when Scruffy died.

My eldest cat Kitzee (who recently died at age sixteen) politely tolerated Bosco and Scruffy, but was never exactly thrilled with them.

Now that Bosco is my only surviving cat, he's become very affectionate and has a close attachment to me. I considered getting another cat to keep him company - but with my present health and financial woes, I'd rather not risk it. Perhaps....in the not-so-distant future.....

Feline photos - to thrill you!

This is Scruffy, whom I miss immensely. I originally named her Scruffy because I thought she was a boy. It wasn't until I moved to Tennessee when my cousin Nancy informed me that Scruffy was a girl.
Heck, what do I know? I'm completely innocent when it comes to sexual identification.

Bosco, when he was a scrawny kitten in Texas.
 

 

Bosco here in Tennessee. Sometimes his eyes are green, other times they're yellow.
Mysterious and strange.....

This is my favorite photo of Bosco. It was taken late one night when there was an extremely bright full moon. He's sitting next to a beautiful Moroccan vase that I bought long ago for my parents.
Ironically, the very next day, Bosco made a flying leap over the table and the vase smashed to pieces.

There have been occasional times when I've considered killing cats, but I'm much too sweet and passive. And forgiving.

                                             Cheers, Jon

 

TOO MANY CATS

  

 

 I removed this post a few weeks ago because I thought it was too long and tedious. After a slight edit, I'll try again.

In 2010 I was living in a tiny, isolated one-horse town on the high plains of West Texas -- about fifty miles from Lubbock.

That year was one of the worst in my entire life. My mother's death in December, 2009 induced a deep psychological trauma from which I never fully recovered. 

On top of dealing with this devastating loss,  I was in debt with massive medical bills and numerous other things. I lost my online job and there was absolutely no work available in the impoverished town where I existed. 

I put my house up for sale, but it was impossible to sell. Nobody wanted to buy anything in that quasi-ghost town. I felt lucky if the realtors showed my house once every four or five months.

As if all this wasn't enough, I suddenly became the victim of identity theft. A hacker (located in Europe) wiped out my savings account. I'll spare the horrendous details. 

Penniless and destitute, I was forced to sell everything I could think of - - paintings, antiques, furniture, dishes, costly antique books and photographs, heirloom jewelry, all of my valuable coin and stamp collections - even clothing. I sold many things online, and also drove to Lubbock to visit every antique store and junk shop in the city.

I got a pittance for my efforts.
I remember selling a very large original photograph of Queen Victoria and her children for $100. It was worth several thousand dollars..

"Desperation" is the most vile word in the English language. 

 

So what about the cats?
Trust me. I'm getting there.

At that time, my neighbor was an elderly lady in her 80s. She was very nice but it was difficult to communicate because she was going deaf and losing her memory.

I was absolutely stunned when I heard that she sold her house and was moving to a different city to live with her son. I later found out that her house sold quickly because it was purchased by a wealthy family friend, who planned to turn it into a rental house.

The elderly lady was a cat lover and had at least six cats that I knew of. Imagine my surprise (to put it mildly) when I discovered that she left all her cats behind when she moved!

The cats quickly migrated to my yard. Since they were starving, I fed them - - not realizing the upcoming nightmare I was to endure.

Soon, other stray cats invaded my yard for the food.
To abbreviate an infinitely long story, the cats began to multiply faster than bunnies. I frequently found new litters. In time, I had nearly thirty cats residing in my yard.
Every morning when I got up, ALL the cats would be waiting by the back door - demanding food.

 

One of the many litters, with Mama Cat looking on

 

I kept feeding them daily, of course, but was admittedly at a complete loss wondering what to do.

There was one tiny place in town that was called an "animal shelter". It was a dilapidated shack run by one man. The place had been cited for violations on numerous occasions.

I reluctantly went there, out of desperation, and asked about my brood of cats.

I was stunned beyond redemption when the man curtly told me "Oh, we only take dogs. If I get any cats, I kill them."

There's was no way in hell I would ever let this inhumane bastard kill a cat.

The nearest legitimate shelters were far away in Lubbock. I was advised (by well-meaning people) to have the cats spayed and neutered - but that was an impossibility. I had absolutely no money - - and I couldn't imagine cramming thirty cats into my pickup truck for a fifty mile drive.

Words cannot express the absolute agony I went through during the endless cat crisis. I very often only had enough money to buy cat food - - so I frequently skipped meals for myself. Believe it or not, there were many days when I didn't eat at all.

The winters on the high TX plains are brutally cold. I built shelters for the cats to stay in, but they still often got sick. They all had eye infections, so I had to keep buying eye drops to treat their eyes.

Some of the kittens from new litters were very sick. I would take them in the house at night and stay up with them - feeding them with an eyedropper and keeping them warm.

Sometimes wild animals would get into my yard and kill cats. I had to bury at least five of them - mostly kittens.

I became completely intent on finding homes for the cats - and it was far from easy. I placed advertisements online and in every newspaper I could think of - - with VERY few results.I eventually met a woman who used to work at an animal shelter. She graciously helped me find homes for many of the cats.

When my house was FINALLY sold, there were still a few cats in my yard. Fortunately, the people who bought my house were cat lovers, so the remaining strays were in good hands.

This was a long post, and I haven't even scratched the surface about the intense problems I had during that agonizing time. Dealing with those poor helpless cats was completely heartbreaking.

Note:
At that time, I only had one cat of my own - Kitzee. She was exclusively an indoor cat, and I kept her away from my vast brood of outdoor strays.
I also "adopted" two of the sickest kittens from the litters and kept them indoors - Bosco and Scruffy - but that's another story for another time. It took awhile for Kitzee to get used to them.

I had lots of photos of the stray Texas cats, but unfortunately most of them are on my OLD desktop computer, which is no longer working.
I found a few photos in my current files, which I've posted here.

This is one of the stray cats (left) looking in the window at my cat Kitzee (right).
Ironically, this particular stray cat was Bosco's mother.

I generally don't make endorsements of any kind, but I'm passionate about this:

Please get all cats and dogs spayed and neutered! It's the most humane thing to do.