Joey came into our lives from another rescue as a completely unrepentant feral cat: ears flat
back, hissing, spitting, swatting. Joey was an adult who had been living on the streets when he had a bad encounter with…something. It ruptured his ear drums, which then became infected, and left him with some neurological deficits. We were told the “something” was a car, and if so – he was lucky to survive at all. However, he didn’t feel quite so grateful and was highly resistant to being handled, let alone medicated for his ears. That is how we ended up with him. Our founder is a bit … fearless [nuts]. Originally his stay was to be for 10 days for antibiotics. We learned he was going to be returned to the street about the same time we realized he was deaf. That, and his inability to control his body well, determined we would keep him. To be clear – we do not fault the other rescue: they aren’t set up for long term care, especially for a cat who doesn’t want to be touched. So, Joey settled in. He finished his antibiotics and a later vet exam confirmed the infection was clear. It also confirmed he was now deaf. By this time he was grudgingly accepting touch, so we started working on controlling his movement. We treated him like a human stroke patient. Our founder had experience with that since Helen (of Helen’s Haven!) had been a stroke patient, so Sharon had some experience with the entire process.
Every day Joey would be moved into a catio that was not permanently occupied. We called it The Veranda, because certain cats would go out there for a change of venue, fresh air and sunshine. With a 32 square foot linoleum surface, it was perfect for Joey’s “rehab”. By the time Joey could nail a small ball shot across the floor and bouncing off the walls every time, we claimed success! The fact that Joey could not (yet) jump up on surfaces (ie, counters) we thought was a bonus. But, alas, Joey continued his own therapy and achieve that goal all on his own, as you can see from some of the attached photos. He would still circle when he got excited, like at meal times, but overall he had control over his body. He also had learned to love human attention, so he went up for adoption. At the time we were doing onsite adoption fairs at Stanford Shopping Center every other weekend, and he dutifully crated up and made the trek. This went on for three years. People loved his story, but were wary of adopting a deaf cat, no matter how much we reassured them. For a long time he was fine with the whole sit-in-a-cage-and-get-stared-at process. He usually slept since the noise of people coming and going didn’t bother him. But then…he started to be less sanguine about being crated. The morning our founder took 20 minutes to find and crate him was it. She opened the crate back up saying “well, if you are that reluctant then you get to stay”. He had lived in a colony and was perfectly happy to make friends with her cats. He was pretty chill so they were fine with him as well. But he had quirks.
One afternoon Sharon came in, tired, and sprawled across the sofa in the living room. She could hear some strange noises coming from the kitchen so – being no fool where cats are concerned – she got up to look. She has the kind of “open shelves” you find in restaurants (something she may want to reconsider….) and Joey had climbed up and made himself at home in a small bowl. To repeat, *in* a small bowl. See the photo attached. Why he thought that was a good idea was anyone’s guess.
Another day she came home, walked into the kitchen and noticed a whole lot of spice jars spilled on the counter. From that angle the view to the inside of the cabinet was blocked by the open door. But, as she got in front of it she found Joey had opened the cabinet, knocked out a bunch of tins/bottles that were in his way and settled in for a nap. Why, with all the human and pet beds, sofas and chairs in the house? Who knows. He was also extremely talkative. Since he had lost his hearing, rather than having been born deaf, he could not understand why he couldn’t hear anything anymore. But, he could still control his own voice. This meant his meow was LOUD and insistent, particularly if he wanted something…like food. Or pets. Or just “where are you?” It was so funny to hear him start screaming when one of us was just out of sight and watch him drop his voice instantly as soon as we would step into view. “MEOW! MEOW!! MEOW!!!! Mew.” After several more years with her, Joey developed kidney disease. Sadly, this is common in older cats. While it can be managed – sometimes quite well – eventually it will take them. And by the time Joey started failing we also knew he had lymphoma. But he was a happy boy, not in pain, and quite happy to be here so he got to both stay and go on his terms. The morning he died, he went with one of his bestie’s, Jessie, snuggling him in bed and purring him across The Bridge. The bed was in the kitchen, placed where a morning sunbeam was shining on it. Our founder was there, doing the breakfast dishes, as he took his last breath. It was as peaceful a passing as could have happened and one that Joey, of anyone, absolutely deserved.
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