A 3 1/2 month old kitten is similar to sharing your days with a toddler. Wild is wild in my books. When toddler-kitty is bored – watch out! The kitty starts getting into mischief. As Maisie grows (and oh how she’s grown since I first brought her home) she is able to reach higher, jump higher, thus exploring a whole bunch of new objects in the apartment. Today I seemed to have reached my breaking point with patience.
In the morning Maisie would have swung from a chandelier, had there been one on the ceiling. Her next best option was to climb up on top of places she normally wouldn’t attempt. This process involved knocking over anything and everything in her path. There was chewing of envelope corners on the desk. The clipboard. The kitchen drawer handles.
Maisie hanging (and chewing) the kitchen drawer handles.
The timing of what seemed to be the birth of “crazymaisie” is also whereby we are at the end of a full moon. October’s moon is called the Hunter’s Moon and this was so aptly named for the behaviour exuded by Maisie the past while. My ankles were repeatedly attacked. She loves to bite my toes through my big thick winter socks (thank you Mark’s Work Wearhouse) of which she doesn’t penetrate or more likely her play isn’t to kill my toes just grab them (I’m still learning the art of kitty prey play)
Either her energy peaked today or I’ve used up all my patience in the past two days. The full moon peaked on the 24th. Whatever the reason, the two of us cooped up in the apartment was just a recipe for getting on each others nerves. She, ever the curious kitten, doing normal kitty exploring activities seemed bent on getting her way. Negative attention is just as good when you have a kitten needing some human interaction. When Mama’s face is glued to the computer screen for work, there is one surefire way to get her attention.
There was some serious selective hearing going on with the refusal to acknowledge or respond to the word “no”. From ankle attacks to clawing at the recliner upholstery(right beside me I might add) to flinging litter across the floor, it was one heckuva trying day for this kittymama. Even the squirt bottle didn’t evoke a response. I swear she just looked at me and emitted an evil laugh. She simply proceeded to leap at my arms and bat at them. Since I have been distracted with work (it’s my busy season) I let her nails grow a bit too long.
The score today sits at Maisie 1 – Mama 0
Thanks to Jackson Galaxy (the cat guru) it was evident my hunter cat was simply taking my ankles for prey. His recommendation of placing an overstimulated kitten/cat in another room for a timeout was just what I needed. Maisie spent the next 10 minutes in the bathroom and I in my recliner with peace, glorious peace. It was definitely the right tactic and I wish I hadn’t waited until I was at my wit’s end to bring this forth. After the time out Maisie did seem a bit calmer and go figure she rubbed against my leg. She got me right where she needed. My mood softened and my voice sang out “awwwww pretty kitty. You feeling better now?” Then she went into the bedroom and took a nap. I should say so – that was quite the display of energy output!
Although she continued to be “bad” (so to speak as in there really are no “bad” kittens just as there are no “bad toddlers” ) the break made the rest of the evening manageable.
My question is: Had the full Hunter’s Moon hyped up Maisie another notch? Was the sharpening of claws with such frenzy and frequency her need to be ready for the next round?
I’ll be happy when the moon wanes to a point where, hopefully, her wild moon energy decreases to a much more tolerable level. A wild eyed and equally wild bodied kitten is no match for the “No” command or the squirt bottle. What do I have to face next month’s full moon? (The Beaver Moon)
As Jackson Galaxy said – cats can get over stimulated easily and it’s our job to pay attention to the signals. Today was definitely a learning curve for me.
Thanksgiving arrives in Canada on the second Monday in October.
New to the immense varieties of kitten and cat foods available on the market, I couldn’t resist purchasing a tin of Thanksgiving Dinner for cats. Priced higher than I normally pay for wet food, it didn’t take long to decide to spoil the wee one. After all, I’m repeatedly thanking my lucky stars that Maisie came into my life.
I purchased this can of food at Global Pet Foods in Stratford. I never, in all my years, thought that there would be a market for a product such as this, or that I would be that kitty mama that actually purchased a can of Thanksgiving Dinner for her kitten.
And how did Miss Maisie like this food? She LOVED LOVED LOVED it.
This story begins on a hot summer’s day in Ontario. A little (very little) kitten came into my life with such force I never saw it coming. Her arrival opened my eyes and heart to the journey of sharing my life with a kitten. It was the August holiday Monday in 2018 when I stopped by a rural farm market outside Elora to buy fresh Ontario corn. I had been working out of town and fresh hot-buttered corn on the cob for dinner was on my mind.
I approached the front of the farm market porch and to my surprise, a little kitten appeared from behind some potted palm plants. This was such a sad looking kitten, with gunk covering an eye as well as over the nostrils. It walked a bit and then laid down on the cement. It looked at me and opened its mouth to meow but no sound came out. Then it walked over to lay beneath some wooden vegetable bins. It was such a sad sight.
@maisiethekat
I went inside the Mennonite farm market and told the lady there was a sick kitten out front. She said, oh well then we’ll just put it down. Immediately upon hearing these words a hard lump rolled over in my stomach. I asked if I could take it with me and get it some care. My mind was working so fast to come up with a solution so I didn’t have to leave the kitten there in the horrible heat. My thought was that I could take it with me now and then take it to the Humane Society in the morning as it was a holiday Monday and they would be closed until the next day. I knew this kitten needed care and I couldn’t just buy corn and leave it behind. I just couldn’t do that.
After a discussion, the farm couple let me take it with me. The farmer with the full beard and traditional black Mennonite hat brought me a tall Foodland Ontario broccoli box so I could put the kitten in for my 45 minute drive back. Before I knew it, the little kitten was climbing out of the box and over to me. Okay, I said to myself, little kitten, it’s probably not safe but you can ride the 45-minute trip back on my lap. (It actually ended up laying on my chest but it wasn’t doing very well and I honestly thought it might die before we arrived at our destination.
I messaged my friend, where I was staying that weekend that I was sorry but I had to bring a kitten to stay til the next morning. And that I’d explain everything when I got there. After stopping to purchase some wet food and a disposable litter box, Kitten and I arrived at my friend’s place. The dog was very interested in what I had brought into “her” home and I introduced them. Right away the kitten tried to nurse. Oh, poor little kitten.
I washed the dirty little kitten and was able to clear out the gunk from the one eye and clear out the nostrils. I messaged a photographer friend who also worked with cat rescue in the city and got some advice on the best first steps. Upon her recommendation, I got some KMR (kitten milk replacement) from the pet store and a syringe from the pharmacy. I began working on getting some milk into the very limp kitten. It just wanted to sleep and I didn’t think much about it because it had been through quite an ordeal out in the heat for who knows how long. After a few hours I began to worry. The kitten wasn’t doing well at all. I had zero experience with kittens this young. My friend suggested a call to the vet. Despite being a holiday it didn’t seem wise to wait until the morning.
On a holiday, you call the vet clinic’s afterhour’s number and they take your information. When a vet is available they will either send back instructions or refer you to come in with your pet. After a couple of (knuckle-biting) hours, my friend and I went to the vet. It was after dinner by this time and a good six hours since I first encountered the kitten.
We were shown the examining room and I put the kitten on the table wrapped in a the towel. The vet checked the kitten. I found out at this time it was a girl (I had no clue how to sex a kitten) and that she was about six weeks old. The vet approximated the age based on the development of the kitten but in fact they later changed her age to eight weeks due to the presence of premolars.
The vet couldn’t get a weight on the kitten because it wouldn’t register on the scale in the room which had a starting weight of 227 g / 0.5 lb. By comparison, the average weight of a six week old kitten is approximately 680 g / 1.5 lbs . This kitten probably lost 2/3 of her weight. I still feel a lump in my throat when I think about how small she was.
The vet informed me that she was suffering from dehydration and malnourishment and would not live through the night. Her recommendation was euthenasia. That last part was something I had NOT expected to hear. I’m sure my jaw dropped or I might have gasped (or both). I remember being stunned by the information. The vet looked at my face and said, I’ll give you a few minutes to think about it.” Then she left me alone
I looked at this limp little kitten laying on the metal slab of the examination table. I let out a huge sigh and said, “Kitty what are we going to do?” It was at this point the kitten looked at me, stood up and let out a feisty m-e-o-w. Then she slumped back down, not having enough energy to hold herself up. “OKAY!”, I said, “that’s what we’re gonna do!” . It was obvious to me that this kitten was choosing to fight. This was also the first time I had heard the kitten make a sound. When the vet returned I told her we wanted to wait and see. I asked her what was needed to help her.
The vet gave the kitten a heavy-duty dose of flea medication (which would treat the infestation within the hour) , deworming treatment and some subcutaneous IV fluids. (subQ) This is where a needle is placed under the skin between the shoulderblades and saline solution is slowly inserted into the body to rehydrate Kitten.The instructions were to continue subQ fluids every 12 hours at home to provide rehydration. There was no guarantee on survival but I was determined to give it my all. I had this little kitten depending on me.
The first IV treatment went fine as I was dealing with a limp kitten. The next treatment was a bit more challenging and I wasn’t confident I had performed it using the proper technique. This limp kitten was now showing some spunk. A good thing but not when you’re trying to put a needle under the skin of a wriggling kitten. I then opted to drive to the clinic and get a vet tech to do this for me. When I brought her in the staff were shocked she was still alive. I guess word had gone around the clinic about the sad dying kitten that showed up on the holiday Monday night for care. Each day I returned for their assistance and each day she showed them she was getting stronger. The fluids were helping. Meanwhile I was working with syringe feeding the KMR and watered down Royal Canin Recovery food, a high protein and highly palatable wet food.
It took three days of trips to the vet’s office for subQ fluids. Each day, the girls in the office remarked on how well she looked. They fawned over Kitten that just days prior had been at death’s door. They called her the “amazing kitten”. The kitten that wasn’t supposed to live.
Remember my original plan? The one where the next morning I would take Kitten to the Humane Society thinking that was my good deed (saving the sick kitten from the heat). Well, The Plan was still, sort of, in my mind. But each day spent with this little bundle curled up in a blanket on my chest while I worked on the laptop was pure joy. Could my heart fill up any further?
It was easy to fall in love with her. I refrained from giving her a name because she was still so fragile and at risk of a relapse and possibly death. But she didn’t die! That feisty spirit Kitten showed at the vet’s office became stronger and stronger each day.
On the fourth day, I gave Kitten a name. As the story goes, I went to buy corn and came home with a kitten. She was named Maisie (corn in French is Mais).
She is my Amazing Maisie. I had no idea how she would fit into her nickname but she never fails to astonish me with her abilities.
Maisie the Cat 