Vale Felicity and Hissy Fit

I've not talked about her before on this blog, but I want to bring your attention to Felicity (pictured) – a creamy pebbly feral cat who I had to put to sleep about a week ago. I think Felicity has lived on the farm for a number of years but I don't know how long for because she kept herself hidden. On various occasions I had caught a glimpse of her at night when I had entered one of the outdoor rooms used as a feeding station – I had put on the light and then had seen a creamy cat streak off the food bench onto the floor and then jump up onto the windowsill and through the open window to disappear into the darkness of the night. 

The first time she came into prominence was winter last year. when I noticed our two dogs had parked themselves near a shed door. When I peered around the side I saw her curled up looking dirty, straggly and miserable. She was obviously very ill and didn't want to move for fear of the dogs and me and also because she was weak. I started bringing meals and fresh water to her hiding spot and kept the dogs out of her vicinity. She was always ravenous and responded well to my ministrations. After she recovered, she emerged and joined the rest of the feral cat colony living on the hill in the cattery and became quite comfortable about being in the open in the full light of day When you constantly feed a cat, they begin to trust you and will invariably come out of hiding and adopt you.

She was an eccentric little thing with a funny manner about her but she was quite delightful and would always come running when I brought breakfast or dinner. She didn't care about fitting into the social system within the feral cat colony – she just imposed herself. 

About eight months ago I noticed some blood on her ear and thought she had got into a fight. A short time later, I noticed her belly swelling and not long after she gave birth to two kittens in the nest occupied by previous tenants mentioned in an older blog post. I left her some food. A day or two later there was no sound from the kittens and when I investigated, I found they were both dead. Felicity moved out and got on with her life again. I didn't get her desexed because I knew she probably wouldn't fall pregnant again.

As time went on, I noticed that the bloody spot on her ear was not improving – rather it was growing. Then one day when I managed to get close to her I noticed it was because her ear was actually being eaten away by skin cancer. It was invariably going to be fatal because I knew I could not catch her and get her to a vet to operate. I had also lost a white cat called Casper who I loved about 15 years ago to skin cancer. Part of his nose and ear had been surgically removed to halt the spread of the cancer but it hadn't helped. The condition came back fiercely and he eventually had to be euthanised. There was no chance I was going to catch Felicity so I knew the the progression of the cancer was inevitable.

Felicity's ear went from bad to worse until half of it was missing and part of her face was eaten away by it. One of the reasons it looked really bad was that she spread the blood from the open wound over her face when she groomed or scratched that area. Despite the fact that it looked horrible she wasn't in any pain or suffering.

Then a funny thing happened about two months ago ... she walked down from the hill towards the human house and domestic cat end of the farm whereupon she stayed.

I was quite amazed at her confidence, especially when the other cats would take one look at the mangled side of her face and flee in horror. I in turn fed her and fussed over her and before long she let me stroke her. She turned out to be an extremely affectionate purry cat and I wondered whether in fact she had been dumped a long time ago because older feral cats don't traditionally behave this way. I set up a soft bed for her which she took to with great enthusiasm. She was also a ravenous eater, she was quite confident in herself, and she groomed herself after every meal. I in turn began to use baby wipes or small towels dipped in warm water to wash the blood and dead tissue from her face and ear. I also dressed the wound with a thick vaseline-like ointment used for animals and then brushed her coat. She looked healthy and gorgeous except for the ear.

During these two months when she officially adopted us, I spoke to the vet on two occasions to prepare myself for the inevitable. I knew there would be a point when I would have to make the decision and put her to sleep – I just didn't want to do it too soon and short-change her. Felicity had a wonderful life-force about her and a strong survival instinct – she also had a vibrant spirit. The vet said that it would be time when she stopped grooming herself and when she had an odour about her.

About two weeks ago I found her sleeping in my sheep pen in the straw so I set her up in her own straw bed in a huge basin. She loved it. She had room service morning and night and when she wanted to stretch her legs and go to the toilet she just ventured out. But she was slowly declining and sleeping more and more. The day I made the decision she didn't touch her food and she slept for about 90 percent of the day.

The next day I called the vet and asked that a woman vet come out to the farm – we paid extra for the house call but we have a policy that if any of our animals need to be put to sleep then it would happen on the farm with the minimum of stress on them.

I know this is a strange thing to say but her death was one of the most beautiful and peaceful I have ever come across. She slept for the entire day and then the young vet and her offsider (also a woman) came in beside me. I woke Felicity up by stroking and combing her and she stirred out of her sleep state and began purring. I gave her a good cuddle and then just stepped away. Two minutes later the vet came to me and said it was done – she had given her a sedative first and then the anaesthesia. Felicity was still purring when she died. I cried for the next few days. She is buried close to my office.

Felicity was a tragic cat insofar as she lived in the shadows for a long time and didn't make our acquaintance till the last year of her life. But I know one thing – during the the last two months she had an exemplary quality of life full of good food, lots of affection, a warm place to sleep and lots of love. You were a great cat, Felicity, and we're going to miss you.

On another note, Hissy Fit (also pictured), one of our feral females disappeared from the colony about a month ago. I didn't know her terribly well but she's been here for a long time. When I moved back to the farm about five years ago and started looking after all the cats, I named them all. Hissy Fit stood out because firstly she would hiss if you got too close and also because she had these two vampire looking teeth. She was black with a white patch on her chest. Her temperament softened after a while when she got to know me and became part of the greater animal family on the farm. We didn't have to desex her (or another one called Diamond) because they had not had kittens for a long time.

Anyway, she disappeared and it was unlike her to go more than 200 metres radius from the cattery where she lived. I went looking for her body but couldn't find it. I don't know whether she died from old age somewhere or whether it was death by misadventure but she's gone and the place sort of feels empty without her. She had a particular kind of energy and it has vanished as she did. Rest in peace, Hissy Fit, wherever you are.