Scooter's Tale: A Rescue Cat's Story

SCOOTER’S TALE: A Rescue Cats Story

As told to Trisha Faye

Smashwords Edition

Cover design by Lisa Olive

100 % of the author’s proceeds of this ebook goes to support rescued cats.

Half of the profits goes to cats and kittens in the DFW Metroplex area of Texas

and half goes to Cats of Angel’s Meadow in Kentucky.

Discover other titles by Trisha Faye:

Memory Gardens

Wash on Monday

Spinning a New Life in Texas

Dear Arlie: Postcards to a Friend (1907-1913)

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people.

Thank you for respecting the hard work of all authors.

Table of Contents:

Prologue

The Day My Life Changed

A Strange Place

My New Mommies

Meeting Dr. C.

They Call Me Scooter

My Sissies

Vacation Bound

Growing Up

This One Brought Bad Luck

The Bad Gets Worse

Friends to the Rescue

Home Again, Home Again, Jiggity Jig

The Life I Could Have Had

Sissies are Acting Strange

I’m Pouting

She’s Back

It’s Spring

My Piggy

I’m Underappreciated

Toys, Toys, Toys

Full Moons in Paradise

The Full Moon’s Not Over Yet

Sissies Surprise

Losing Thelma

Jasper Arrives

Losing Miracle

Life Goes On

CAT RESCUE FACILITIES

CARING FOR ABANDONED KITTENS

ONLINE RESOURCES FOR KITTEN RESCUE CARE

CALICIVIRUS

NATIONAL FERAL CAT DAY®

PROLOGUE

Sixty million cats! That’s how many feral cats the Department of Animal Care and Control estimates are living on the streets in America. (http://www.statisticbrain.com/cat-statistics/) That’s a lot!

That number is only a third of the estimated numbers of domestic cats in the US. The Wildlife Society reports, "The domestic cat (Felis catus) is the most popular pet in the United States, with numbers ranging between 148 and 188 million individuals." (http://joomla.wildlife.org/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=845) I don’t know if the Wildlife Society estimate includes feral populations, or is only an estimation of cats housed in domestic households. Either way, that’s still a huge number of felines, tame and wild.

According to the Metroport Humane Society, A single cat and her offspring can produce 420,000 kittens in just seven years. (http://metroporthumanesociety.org/newsletter.pdf) Left to roam on their own, without spaying and neutering, and no human interference, the cat population only escalates each year.

Individuals or organizations trying to help 60 million cats seems impossible. But by reaching out to our own backyards, and caring about our own little sphere of influence in the world, we can improve the lives of many that are doomed to a life of scarcity, fear, and ultimate death from an untold number of threats.

Scooter’s Tale is the story of one little abandoned and rescued kitten and his adopted family. Along with his two sisters, a few cousins and other step-siblings, they rule the house in their new home in Roanoke Texas. No longer constrained to a life in the wild, scrounging for food, searching for warmth and shelter, and fleeing from predators, they now live in a heated and air conditioned home, where food and water are available 24/7, along with immediate medical care whenever necessary. They spend their days napping on soft comfortable beds, while their staff of two brings them soft yummy kitten food at several predetermined intervals. All that’s missing is the Nubien beauty fanning them and feeding them grapes. Or, catnip biscuits, which they’d probably prefer.

100% of the proceeds from the sale of Scooter’s Tale benefits feral and rescued cats in the Dallas-Fort Worth metroplex and Cats of Angels Meadow, a cat rescue facility in Kentucky.

Thank you for purchasing Scooter’s Tale. Scooter thanks you, along with the others benefiting from your generosity. If you have the urge to help out more, a list of resources and ideas follows at the end. Some tips and advice for caring for your own rescued kittens is also included.

In this particular case, it’s probably the only appropriate time we can say … Happy Catting Around!

Trisha Faye

texastrishafaye@yahoo.com

www.trishafaye.com

THE DAY MY LIFE CHANGED

October 24, 2013

My life is drastically different from the life I should have had.

Life changed in a moment, one Thursday afternoon when the humans found me.

I only remember being scared – more scared than I’d ever been. (As if I’d had a lot of life experience in my 3 ½ weeks of life) My mommy was gone. My first mommy that is, my furry, cat mommy.

I don’t know if she left me, or if I crawled off and got stuck and she couldn’t get me. My new mommies tell me I’m ornery. I suppose they're right. I was probably like that back when I was a baby too.

I have vague memories of another mommy. They’re fading now and become less clear the older I get. I remember warm. And furry. And yummy, yummy milk to drink.

But … then I went exploring. I think. And I got stuck. And mommy disappeared. Or, did mommy disappear and I went looking for her and got stuck? I really don’t remember. It all happened so long ago. I was so little then. I was just a baby. Not like the big boy that I am now.

Scared. That’s all I remember – being very, very scared. I cried for my mommy. I cried and cried - and cried some more. I meowed my little heart out, till I couldn’t cry anymore.

I was hungry.

I was lonely.

I was scared.

Did I tell you how scared I was?

Time passed. I don’t know how much. I don’t know if I was alone for hours, or most of the day. And then, I heard it. A giant’s voice went booming through my world. I heard something (I later learned it was called a human) call out, I hear something.

Louder, the voice called out, I hear it. There’s a kitten in here. Come help me.

Noises banged above my head.

Bang! Crash! Clang!

A huge hand came reaching for me. I felt it touch me. I scooted in tighter to my little hidey hole. It was grabbing for me. I kept scooting – trying to get away from it. I was meowing now, as loud as I could with my scratchy little voice. I was scared to death.

I was wedged in tight to my little hidden space. They’ll never find me here. I heard two voices now. They were right above me. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t go any farther.

Mommy, I called. I wanted her to come save me from the monsters. She didn’t come.

I felt so alone.

The first voice said, It’s trapped between the seat and the side of the boat. I’m going to yank the seat away. You grab it.

Gulp.

I tried to hold on tight. MOMMY, I cried with all my might. MOMMY! It just came out like a scratchy little squeak. Two hands grabbed me and lifted me out of my safe spot.

Help! I cried.

I struggled. I held my little arms out, straight and stiff. I wasn’t going peacefully. I had no idea who these two gigantic monsters were. For all I know, they wanted to eat me! I was just a little itty bitty thing. I wasn’t even enough for a snack.

A STRANGE PLACE

Leave me alone! I meowed. I screamed.

They carried me off. Bright light – sunshine from the open yard blinded me. Then, I was inside a strange place. Now, I was even more scared. There were strange smells and weird looking objects. The two giants were holding me and examining me. I kept hearing their voices.

Awwww.

Such a tiny little thing.

His voice is funny. It’s sounds hoarse.

I wonder if it’s hungry.

I told you I heard something.

They didn’t seem mean. They weren’t trying to gobble me up. I stopped fighting so much. The two strange creatures wrapped me up in a fluffy warm towel. One held me and stroked the top of my head and made funny little noises. It did feel kind of good. It seems like they were glad to find me.

The other giant, the one not holding me, said I’ll make some milk. Thank goodness we still have some formula left over from Docker. Now, where did I put that bottle?

Milk? What’s that?

Bottle? What’s a bottle?

Docker? What in the world is that?

I was so confused. Later I found out that Docker was the kitty rescued a few months before me. I heard that he was found in the same boat. That was how he got his name. But, I didn’t know that on the first day they found me.

I was more interested in the milk part. It sounded like it might be something to eat. My little tummy was hungry. It had been a long time since Mommy fed me breakfast – long before we got separated from each other.

One of them (such strange creatures they were) said, Poor little thing. It’s so skinny. And hoarse. Who knows how long it’s been crying. I’m glad I heard it.

The other voice said, It wouldn’t have been alive in the morning. As cold as the nights are now, and out there all by itself, it would have died.

What? I would