Awesome Halloween Cat Seeks Awesome Owner in Portland, OR
ETA: Kitty is, in fact, a boy kitty. So, we can't call him Hecate. Widdershins, maybe?
Hi, everyone. Meet Hecate. She's an awesome Halloween-themed kitty who appeared in the Portland, Oregon area in the middle of a coyote and owl-haunted field, and who needs a spooky-cool -- and hostile wildlife-free -- home in which to kick it.
I was all prepared to write some gripping text to soften you up for this, but thankfully, my work has been done for me by the wonderful snowcoma. So, it's over to her for the tale:
I found Hecate in the middle of a field a little after midnight. I was in the car with my roommate, going on a grocery run, when I spotted an owl perched on a wire right by the road. Being an avid birder and a complete nutcase, I flailed and squealed and Tim loyally turned the car around just in time for us to see the owl swoop down over the field and disappear from sight. I scrambled out of the car with my dinky pocket flashlight, and began tromping through the mud in the direction where I'd first sighted the owl.
Suddenly I noticed a little black shape hunkered low to the ground off to my left. A sweep of the flashlight revealed that not only was the shape not a shadow, it was staring at me with orange eyes. "KITTY!" I declared, completely ruining the spookiness. She stayed low and still as I approached, and skittered away from my hand at first, until a lucky lunge on my part landed my scritchy-fingers behind her ears. Suddenly, we were old friends, and she started to follow me across the field, tail held high. Every time either Tim or I stopped, she was there, winding around our ankles and purring loudly.
Tim picked her up, and as we both petted her more thoroughly, I noticed how thin she was, and that her fur was full of burrs. Spurred on by a hooting across the street from the field, I crossed to the sidewalk, and spied one of the nearby residents. I asked if she was his cat, and he informed me that she was no ones cat, but that his daughter put food out for her sometimes. I walked back to the car, my mood sinking as I knew what this meant. She wasn't a beloved pet out for a midnight stroll, she was just another one of the millions of strays that are left to die alone by the people that should rightly be cherishing them.
She followed us right up to the car. I started to cry, because I knew I couldn't give her a home. I turned to Tim, who was murmuring consolations. "What we're trying to tell ourselves right now, that someone else will come along and do something, is what everyone else says when they walk away. There is no one else. Either it's us, or it's nobody."
We drove to the store, no longer thinking about food. We'd made up our minds. Emerging with disposable litterboxes, canned food, flea shampoo, and the few groceries that we remembered, we drove back to the field. I wasn't even done calling "Here, kitty!" when she ran out of the bushes right by where our car had been parked before. I put her in my lap, and we drove home.
Now, pertinent cat stats! She's a young female longhair, I haven't been able to determine if she's spayed yet. She's been given worm medication since she got here, and I'll be flea-bathing her ASAP, though she doesn't have a noticable infestation. She is litter trained.
She is very affectionate, and she never stops purring when humans are in the room. She's playful without being aggressive. She eats with gusto and doesn't seem to have a problem digesting wet or dry food. And best of all, she sucks her paw like a thumb. She takes her front paws, pulls a back paw to her mouth, and suckles one of her toe pads while kneading the air with her front paws and purring. It is more adorable than baby Jesus, I swear.
Pumpkin-inspector!
Look at those eyes!
Look at that floof!
So beautiful!
She is so gorgeous, I swear, and she sounds so incredibly friendly that I'm getting a contact snuggle-high just from reading about her. I am totally smitten, and want to just smorsh her in my arms and snorgle her all over. I love black cats, and those bright pumpkin-colored eyes are just amazing. You couldn't ask for a more wickedly wonderful kitty.
We need to find her a home, because she's sort of being kept in snowcoma's bathroom, and the landlord doesn't know and would probably not be overly pleased by this. I'm a big believer that doing the right thing shouldn't get the person doing it into trouble, so I'd like to see this furry littl gal find someone who can give her a permanent home real soon here.
So, all y'all Portlanders who were lamenting that you couldn't take in the teeny-weeny keeton, maybe you or one of your friends would like an incredibly friendly Halloween kitty to greet trick-or-treaters and provide year-round furry awesome? I have a really strong and serendipitous feeling she's sort of meant for one of you. I'd like to know who that is, because I get a little weirded out when I get these feelings, and it's a little embarrassing to be wrong.
I would so be begging to keep her myself if I were anywhere near there. I mean, the cat sucks on her back foot like a thumb. Do I need to explain to you how badly that makes me want to explode with delight, and I haven't even seen it?
Spread the word, eh? And if you know any good Portland communities to which snowcoma could crosspost, please mention them!
You can reach snowcoma either via LJ or via email at snowcoma@gmail.com.
Hi, everyone. Meet Hecate. She's an awesome Halloween-themed kitty who appeared in the Portland, Oregon area in the middle of a coyote and owl-haunted field, and who needs a spooky-cool -- and hostile wildlife-free -- home in which to kick it.
I was all prepared to write some gripping text to soften you up for this, but thankfully, my work has been done for me by the wonderful snowcoma. So, it's over to her for the tale:
I found Hecate in the middle of a field a little after midnight. I was in the car with my roommate, going on a grocery run, when I spotted an owl perched on a wire right by the road. Being an avid birder and a complete nutcase, I flailed and squealed and Tim loyally turned the car around just in time for us to see the owl swoop down over the field and disappear from sight. I scrambled out of the car with my dinky pocket flashlight, and began tromping through the mud in the direction where I'd first sighted the owl.
Suddenly I noticed a little black shape hunkered low to the ground off to my left. A sweep of the flashlight revealed that not only was the shape not a shadow, it was staring at me with orange eyes. "KITTY!" I declared, completely ruining the spookiness. She stayed low and still as I approached, and skittered away from my hand at first, until a lucky lunge on my part landed my scritchy-fingers behind her ears. Suddenly, we were old friends, and she started to follow me across the field, tail held high. Every time either Tim or I stopped, she was there, winding around our ankles and purring loudly.
Tim picked her up, and as we both petted her more thoroughly, I noticed how thin she was, and that her fur was full of burrs. Spurred on by a hooting across the street from the field, I crossed to the sidewalk, and spied one of the nearby residents. I asked if she was his cat, and he informed me that she was no ones cat, but that his daughter put food out for her sometimes. I walked back to the car, my mood sinking as I knew what this meant. She wasn't a beloved pet out for a midnight stroll, she was just another one of the millions of strays that are left to die alone by the people that should rightly be cherishing them.
She followed us right up to the car. I started to cry, because I knew I couldn't give her a home. I turned to Tim, who was murmuring consolations. "What we're trying to tell ourselves right now, that someone else will come along and do something, is what everyone else says when they walk away. There is no one else. Either it's us, or it's nobody."
We drove to the store, no longer thinking about food. We'd made up our minds. Emerging with disposable litterboxes, canned food, flea shampoo, and the few groceries that we remembered, we drove back to the field. I wasn't even done calling "Here, kitty!" when she ran out of the bushes right by where our car had been parked before. I put her in my lap, and we drove home.
Now, pertinent cat stats! She's a young female longhair, I haven't been able to determine if she's spayed yet. She's been given worm medication since she got here, and I'll be flea-bathing her ASAP, though she doesn't have a noticable infestation. She is litter trained.
She is very affectionate, and she never stops purring when humans are in the room. She's playful without being aggressive. She eats with gusto and doesn't seem to have a problem digesting wet or dry food. And best of all, she sucks her paw like a thumb. She takes her front paws, pulls a back paw to her mouth, and suckles one of her toe pads while kneading the air with her front paws and purring. It is more adorable than baby Jesus, I swear.
Pumpkin-inspector!
Look at those eyes!
Look at that floof!
So beautiful!
She is so gorgeous, I swear, and she sounds so incredibly friendly that I'm getting a contact snuggle-high just from reading about her. I am totally smitten, and want to just smorsh her in my arms and snorgle her all over. I love black cats, and those bright pumpkin-colored eyes are just amazing. You couldn't ask for a more wickedly wonderful kitty.
We need to find her a home, because she's sort of being kept in snowcoma's bathroom, and the landlord doesn't know and would probably not be overly pleased by this. I'm a big believer that doing the right thing shouldn't get the person doing it into trouble, so I'd like to see this furry littl gal find someone who can give her a permanent home real soon here.
So, all y'all Portlanders who were lamenting that you couldn't take in the teeny-weeny keeton, maybe you or one of your friends would like an incredibly friendly Halloween kitty to greet trick-or-treaters and provide year-round furry awesome? I have a really strong and serendipitous feeling she's sort of meant for one of you. I'd like to know who that is, because I get a little weirded out when I get these feelings, and it's a little embarrassing to be wrong.
I would so be begging to keep her myself if I were anywhere near there. I mean, the cat sucks on her back foot like a thumb. Do I need to explain to you how badly that makes me want to explode with delight, and I haven't even seen it?
Spread the word, eh? And if you know any good Portland communities to which snowcoma could crosspost, please mention them!
You can reach snowcoma either via LJ or via email at snowcoma@gmail.com.