Matilda, aka Atila the Honey

[Nina]

As happens so often, my latest little refugee from the street found her 
way to me.  One morning about 2 weeks ago, I went to pick up the feral 
food dishes in my front yard and noticed a little tuxy/tabby gray and 
white kitty sitting, pretty as you please, watching me from across the 
street in my neighbor's front yard.  Now, I know almost all of the cats 
and dogs in my neighborhood by name, and I'd never seen this little one 
before.  I went over to introduce myself.  She didn't run, she just 
cautiously stood her ground, sitting in that 'good kitty position', and 
watched with huge expressive emerald eyes to see what I was up to.  My 
neighbor came out and the little one took off into a back yard.  That 
night, she showed up at my food dishes.  I went out to talk to her and 
saw that she was VERY pregnant!  Aaggrh!  I brought her a dish of wet 
food and she hungrily gobbled and growled.  She wouldn't let me touch 
her, but I knew she wasn't truly "feral", only a stray would eat in 
front of a stranger like that.  The next morning she was back at her 
post across the street.  Determined to catch her before she had her 
litter, I marched over there in my pajamas armed with a carrier and a 
dish of food.  She struggled valiantly against her capture, but she 
didn't purposely try to scratch, or bite.  That night, a kind vet told 
me that she was emaciated, jaundiced and in danger of losing her life if 
she delivered her kittens.  She was spayed, given fluids and a shot of 
antibiotics.  Sadly, her five little ones never got to see the light of 
day.  The first week of her recovery she barely stirred from her bed, 
she'd growl everytime I approached with a plate of food, but somehow she 
still made it to the litter box to relieve herself.  It was touch and 
go, I didn't know if she'd make it, it seemed she'd lost the desire to 
live.  Exactly a week to the day after her surgery she came alive and 
displayed all the indications of someone suffering from Post Traumatic 
Stress Disorder.  I can only imagine the horrors she'd faced on the 
street.  It's so obvious that this little darling was loved, protected 
and cherished at one time.  She was ill equipped to deal with the 
overwhelming task of fending for herself.  Can you imagine finding 
yourself in such a hostile world?  Tom's attacking her to mate, 
terrifying encounters with dogs out for the sport of her blood, and all 
the time searching and mourning for the comfort and safety she had so 
recently known.  It's no wonder the poor little thing was terrified of 
any being with four legs and that it took a bit of persuading for her to 
see that she had finally found a friend in me.  My sore back can attest 
to the hours spent cuddling with her on the bathroom floor.  Her need 
for affection and a feeling of protection was so great that she'd howl 
and yowl everytime I left her side.  I was so concerned for her!  By the 
second day of this behavior, she had cried herself hoarse!  None of us 
got any sleep, unless I was with her.  In recent days we've been seeing 
slow improvement in her ability to view the world as a safe place 
again.  She no longer hurls herself in fright with claws and teeth bared 
at the screen door that separates her from the rest of my household when 
she spots one of my other animals.  She's still growling under her 
breath at the dogs, but she's begun to allow my little cat Pistol to 
keep her company when she sits vigil outside the door.  I've been doing 
my best to reunite her with her former guardian, but so far, no luck.  
My home, as loving as it is, is crowded with animals and not an 
appropriate placement for one so emotionally fragile.  Please pray that 
I find her an understanding home that will suit her special needs.  One 
that can lavish love and compassion on this deserving little soul.  This 
little one has so much to share, if only we can find her true forever home.
Nina

Kat wrote:
Okay - make that "we 6" -
I'm still hear - just up to my eyeballs in work.
Nina, I'd love to hear about Matilda aka Atila the Honey.
Kat (Mew Jersey)