Catera Bobcat Dies

”You don't have to worry about me anymore…now I'll be looking out for you," Catera purred softly. I sighed deeply, comforted by his words and yet slightly amused by his promise. His rumbling purr gave way to the sound of rain outside as I awakened more fully.

 

Yes, he was right; I wouldn't awake to the sound of a rain storm and wonder if he was safe and dry. No longer would I fret about him if I had to leave town for more than a day or two. My daily rounds at the sanctuary would no longer carry that heavy sense of dread as I approached his cage; wondering if he would have relapsed back again into some dreadful state of discomfort with processing his food. His life had been so hard from the very day he was born and yet he had such a zest for life and such a happy disposition that every time I thought I just couldn't stand to see him struggle through another setback, he would bounce back and take life by the horns again.

 

He died in his sleep, curled up in his den on August 10, 2010. Big Cat Rescuer, Sharon Dower may have been the last person to see him alive. It was around noon as she was cleaning in the area and she said, "I was talking with him just this afternoon, around 12:30. He chattered a bit, rolled over and showed me his belly, then yawned." A little while later, Hallelujah the cougar began wailing.

 

Everyone around the sanctuary knows what that means. Hal has a 6th sense for those who are dying and his wails sent chills down Marie Schoubert and Willow Hecht's backs. When they told Regina Rinaldi about it she exclaimed, "Uh-oh! Hal always gets vocal when a cat passes...he just knows." Some dear four footed friend was leaving the sanctuary and this world and it wasn't long before we discovered it was Catera. When Operations Manager, Gale Ingham called me into the Cat Hospital to tell me, I was stunned. Catera had been doing pretty well lately. I had just visited with him the night before and he was his happy, chirping, dancing self. After 13 years of worrying about his health every day, he was gone in an instant…probably his way of letting us all know that it was his decision and not the hand of fate.

 

His parents, Shiloh and Indian Summer had been a bonded pair for seven years before coming to live on Easy Street in late 1996. They had never reproduced, so we left them together and of course a litter of three resulted in just a few short months. Indian Summer, on the third day, began killing the kittens and by the time I could get to her, two were dead and she was biting the last one on the chest and abdomen. I snatched the bleeding kitten away from her and took it to medicate and bottle raise.

 

It wasn't long before the I discovered why Summer had brutally attacked her offspring. Catera (named for the Caddy that zigs) was obviously brain damaged and from the condition of all three kittens, it was apparent that they had not been nursing although the dam had stayed with them faithfully. He was skinny his whole life and that just accentuated his bug eyed face that seemed to be perpetually full of surprise and wonder.

 

It took hours to feed Catera and every time, it was as if it was the first time for him. It took him a year to get on to solid foods and again, every meal was like the first he ever had. If I were to walk out of the room and walk back in ten minutes later, he had forgotten who I was and only through the vocalizations we have shared over and over and over would he again recognize me. Once he made the mental connection, he would be exuberant and would dance around in circles, chirping, rolling and acting so cute that, no matter what, it would put a smile on my face and in my heart.

 

Every day was new and exciting to Catera and he is quite possibly the happiest cat who ever lived on Easy Street. Catera would run incessantly in circles and "bark" at everyone he couldn't remember, which was everyone. It wasn't until his "sister," President Jamie Veronica began doing operant