A Remarkable Story of Compassion for Animals
I hope my good friend, Kyle Horn, of Ames, Iowa doesn't mind my posting his story concerning his new cat, Oliver, but I found the story so compelling, that it must be retold.
"Against all my predictions, a new kitty has come into my life. I certainly wasn’t in the market for a new feline companion, but this was God’s timing. In the last several months, when I’d drive downtown to run errands, I frequently noticed a stray cat: Long black fur, and a puffy tail standing up like a ceremonial plume on a soldier’s hat. Occasionally I beckoned home, but he was so shy that I concluded he was feral: He wouldn’t let me come near him. His locus of activity appeared to be the Adams Funeral Home area, but I saw him scavenging as far away as Burger King on Lincoln Way and hunting the steep banks along Grand Avenue. I also saw him darting below and between cars on Main Street. I always felt very sorry for him, and every time I drove downtown I wondered whether I’d see him. I always half-feared I’d see him dead in the street.
"I phoned the Ames Animal Shelter to inquire about him, and they confirmed that they were familiar with him. An employee had even made some half-hearted attempts to capture him. They were of the opinion that he was feral, and had either been abandoned or perhaps he even rode into town in the back of a pickup truck and found himself alone and frightened in downtown Ames. At any rate, I know that he had been fending for himself for several months based on previous sightings (good thing it was a mild winter). After my conversation with the Animal Shelter, they said they were going to set out a live trap for him behind Adams Funeral Home. I cringed at the thought of him in a trap, but concluded it was the only real hope of saving him.
"The next day (a Friday), I stopped at Wheatsfield Grocery with Cevriye. As we were driving away, we spotted him in front of the library. We got out and beckoned to him, but as usual it was pointless. He fled to the behind of Adams Funeral Home. I drove around the block and down the alley between Adams and Tradewinds. There he was, walking around the edge of an open dumpster. I said to Cevriye, “If he jumps in, it’ll be my one chance in a million to catch him.” I parked a few yards away, and after some very nervous pacing and looking around he finally dropped into the dumpster. I grabbed a blanket out of the trunk, crept up to the dumpster, and peered over the edge. There he was, standing on a garbage bag with his back to me, obviously sensing impending danger. At about the same time he sprang, I tossed the blanket. I caught him dead center and it was on. He fought like a wildcat at first, but eventually he resigned himself and remained strangely still. We got into the car with me holding him wrapped in the blanket. He struggled occasionally, but he knew I had him so he remained mostly still.
"When we got home, I let him loose in the living room. He ran in a blind panic to the kitchen and hid in Oscar’s old bathroom, terrified. He remained there for the first few days, coming out only at night to eat the food I left out for him. He was wild as hell, and I thought “Great. I’ve captured a wild animal and let him loose in my house.” My original plan, such as it was, was to deliver him to the shelter on Monday where they could care for him and see if he eventually tamed down sufficiently for adoption. I began to realize, however, that his future wouldn’t be very bright there. After some Internet research, I reckoned that few people would have the unearthly patience required to tame an adult feral cat. By degrees, I resigned myself to having a wild animal for a roommate.
"That was March 31, almost two months ago. At this moment, Oliver is snoozing in the office window three feet away from me. He has turned into a wonderfully affectionate and thoroughly civilized cat. He’s very healthy (the ISU Vet Clinic neutered him and treated him for parasites), and they estimate his age at 1 – 1.5 years. He’s a little guy, about 7 or 8 pounds. I’m very thankful that he’s no longer searching through garbage cans downtown, miserable and alone. It’s so sad to consider that he might have lived a brief and painful existence, never having a relationship with another creature. No one would have suspected that he has a heart of gold. He loves wearing his little harness and laying around the backyard with Cevriye and me. It’s obvious that he’s thankful for the unexpected turn in his life, and so am I. As you rightly mentioned, no one can replace Oscar and I continue to grieve for him. But Oliver is a great friend."
"Against all my predictions, a new kitty has come into my life. I certainly wasn’t in the market for a new feline companion, but this was God’s timing. In the last several months, when I’d drive downtown to run errands, I frequently noticed a stray cat: Long black fur, and a puffy tail standing up like a ceremonial plume on a soldier’s hat. Occasionally I beckoned home, but he was so shy that I concluded he was feral: He wouldn’t let me come near him. His locus of activity appeared to be the Adams Funeral Home area, but I saw him scavenging as far away as Burger King on Lincoln Way and hunting the steep banks along Grand Avenue. I also saw him darting below and between cars on Main Street. I always felt very sorry for him, and every time I drove downtown I wondered whether I’d see him. I always half-feared I’d see him dead in the street.
"I phoned the Ames Animal Shelter to inquire about him, and they confirmed that they were familiar with him. An employee had even made some half-hearted attempts to capture him. They were of the opinion that he was feral, and had either been abandoned or perhaps he even rode into town in the back of a pickup truck and found himself alone and frightened in downtown Ames. At any rate, I know that he had been fending for himself for several months based on previous sightings (good thing it was a mild winter). After my conversation with the Animal Shelter, they said they were going to set out a live trap for him behind Adams Funeral Home. I cringed at the thought of him in a trap, but concluded it was the only real hope of saving him.
"The next day (a Friday), I stopped at Wheatsfield Grocery with Cevriye. As we were driving away, we spotted him in front of the library. We got out and beckoned to him, but as usual it was pointless. He fled to the behind of Adams Funeral Home. I drove around the block and down the alley between Adams and Tradewinds. There he was, walking around the edge of an open dumpster. I said to Cevriye, “If he jumps in, it’ll be my one chance in a million to catch him.” I parked a few yards away, and after some very nervous pacing and looking around he finally dropped into the dumpster. I grabbed a blanket out of the trunk, crept up to the dumpster, and peered over the edge. There he was, standing on a garbage bag with his back to me, obviously sensing impending danger. At about the same time he sprang, I tossed the blanket. I caught him dead center and it was on. He fought like a wildcat at first, but eventually he resigned himself and remained strangely still. We got into the car with me holding him wrapped in the blanket. He struggled occasionally, but he knew I had him so he remained mostly still.
"When we got home, I let him loose in the living room. He ran in a blind panic to the kitchen and hid in Oscar’s old bathroom, terrified. He remained there for the first few days, coming out only at night to eat the food I left out for him. He was wild as hell, and I thought “Great. I’ve captured a wild animal and let him loose in my house.” My original plan, such as it was, was to deliver him to the shelter on Monday where they could care for him and see if he eventually tamed down sufficiently for adoption. I began to realize, however, that his future wouldn’t be very bright there. After some Internet research, I reckoned that few people would have the unearthly patience required to tame an adult feral cat. By degrees, I resigned myself to having a wild animal for a roommate.
"That was March 31, almost two months ago. At this moment, Oliver is snoozing in the office window three feet away from me. He has turned into a wonderfully affectionate and thoroughly civilized cat. He’s very healthy (the ISU Vet Clinic neutered him and treated him for parasites), and they estimate his age at 1 – 1.5 years. He’s a little guy, about 7 or 8 pounds. I’m very thankful that he’s no longer searching through garbage cans downtown, miserable and alone. It’s so sad to consider that he might have lived a brief and painful existence, never having a relationship with another creature. No one would have suspected that he has a heart of gold. He loves wearing his little harness and laying around the backyard with Cevriye and me. It’s obvious that he’s thankful for the unexpected turn in his life, and so am I. As you rightly mentioned, no one can replace Oscar and I continue to grieve for him. But Oliver is a great friend."
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