“Tami”
Not long after Tami arrived to the home of Mr. P., Tami began roaming. When Tami was found, Tami was found to be traumatized, depressed, and she had lost her burnished bronze color and aged tremendously.
Photograph © CatsHope™
The Journey — The story as told by Rockie Page 2
Mother Began to Change
As the days passed, we slowly became used to our new environment.
We still stayed close together. During the day we explored the house, chased each other through the rooms and hid amongst the furniture whenever we heard unfamiliar sounds.
Life had become quieter, but it wasn’t the same as it had been at Cats Hope™.
Mother no longer wanted us to nurse. Whenever we tried, she growled, hissed or gently pushed us away. Sometimes she even chased us off. We didn’t understand why, but we learnt to eat from the familiar orange plate instead.
None of us seemed to eat very much. We were only served wet food once a day. The food tasted different, and we were still getting used to our new home. We didn’t feel comfortable eating in our new surroundings. The rest of our meals consisted of Royal Canin kibble and water in the covered garden at the back of the house, but we were not comfortable going there either.
Mother didn’t seem to eat very much herself.
As the days passed, she spent more time near the front of the house. She walked through the front garden, sat quietly near the gate and sometimes disappeared for a short while before coming back.
At first, she was only away for a little while.
Then, little by little, she stayed away longer.
Whenever she returned, we ran to greet her. We wanted to be close to her, but she often growled, hissed or even bit us if we came too close. We didn’t understand what was happening.
Mother had gone beyond the gate before, but she had always returned. Until one day, she didn’t. That evening, we waited for her as we always did.
Mr. P called her name several times, but there was no sign of Mother.
When it was time for dinner, we ate without her. None of us ate very much. It didn’t feel right. As night fell, Simba, Cougar and I stayed close together. Every sound made us stop and listen. We thought Mother would come home before morning.
She didn’t.
When we woke the next day, she was still gone. We waited all day for her to return. She never came.
“We Were On Our Own”
A depiction of Simba, Rockie and Cougar as they were in April 2021 in the home of Mr. P after Tami went missing.
Illustration © CatsHope™
We Were On Our Own
Mother didn’t come back.
At first, we waited. Every sound made us look up. Every movement near the door made us wonder if she was coming home. But the days passed. And there were only three of us. Simba. Cougar. And me.
The house was enormous and unfamiliar. But we didn’t explore all of it. We never went upstairs. The kitchen wasn’t somewhere we wanted to be either. It was busy and noisy, with people coming and going, the maid working there and another cat around. Our adventures were closer to the living room.
The side rooms were filled with furniture and all sorts of things. Some were curtained off. To three kittens, they were wonderful places to explore. There were things to climb over, things to crawl beneath, narrow spaces to squeeze into and endless places to hide.
One of those rooms, near the front door, was Granny’s room. Cougar discovered Granny. She would wander into her room and keep the old lady company, sometimes staying there quietly for a long time.
So although we had what the humans called free roam, our world wasn’t really the whole house. It was the living room, the side rooms and all their hiding places — and, for Cougar, Granny’s room. That was where our adventures were.
“Rockie Inspects the Sardines for Dinner”
A depiction of Simba and Cougar watching as Rockie inspects the food in the platter.
Illustration © CatsHope™
Food Was Different Too
Eating wasn’t like it had been at Cats Hope™. We were still being weaned, and Angel Mum had been feeding us six wet meals throughout the day while gradually introducing more dry food. As we grew, our meals were moving towards a mixture of wet and dry.
That routine didn’t have to stay exactly the same forever. We were growing kittens, and our meals would change. But change should happen gradually — especially when everything else in a kitten’s world is changing too.
So we didn’t arrive at our new home empty-pawed. Angel Mum packed a box for us with our familiar food, our cushion, our toys and the orange communal plate the three of us knew.
They were ordinary things, but they smelled like home.
When a cat moves to a new family, almost everything changes at once. The rooms are different, the people are different, the smells and sounds are different. Even the place where you sleep and the place where you eat are different.
That is why familiar things matter. A cushion that smells like home, a favourite toy, the plate you already know and the food your tummy already knows give a frightened cat something familiar in a strange new world.
Something that says: I know this.
New food can come later. It can be introduced gradually, with a little mixed into the familiar food at first and more added as the cat becomes accustomed to it. The number of wet meals can change as a kitten grows too.
But there is no need to change everything at once.
Later, when Angel Mum questioned Mr P about how we were being fed, he told her that he was serving us wet food at nine in the morning. He said we often didn’t finish it.
That mattered. Maybe the food wasn’t familiar anymore. Maybe the change had been too fast. Maybe our tummies didn’t feel right. Maybe we didn’t feel safe enough to settle down and eat.
We couldn’t explain why. We could only leave the food.
There was kibble and water available too, in the covered backyard beyond the kitchen. But that was a very different place from the quiet side rooms where we liked to stay.
To reach it, we had to go through the busy kitchen, with people coming and going, the maid working there and another cat around, and then farther towards the back. We didn’t feel comfortable there.
The food at the back was exposed too. Other cats could come and eat from it. Ants and cockroaches could get into it, and there were rodents and other creatures around the property.
There was food available, but that wasn’t the important question.
Had the kittens actually eaten?
Providing food and making sure a kitten is nourished are not always the same thing.
A kitten can’t tell you, “I don’t like this food. My tummy doesn’t feel right. I’m frightened here.”
It can only show you.
And when a kitten repeatedly doesn’t finish its meals, that is something a caregiver needs to notice.
You have to ask why.
