Catfish...a gift from Walter? Yes.

Last week I wrote about the two new elder cats that arrived-thier owner had died-and I mentioned there was one more cat coming. I named him Catfish and he is a big beautiful boy of 15.

I have to tell you I am in love Catfish and it dawned on me that way back in 1980 when I was in NYC and I adopted a cat, I wanted a Morris like orange tabby but the shelter only hand a one year old female orange tabby and I took her home. Gracie lived with me until her death at 18. And then all the oranges that came to me were a gift and that included Walter, and Lemon, and now Jonathan and Catfish. 

Catfish says one word when I come in. He is like the Marlon Brando of cats lying about in his kimono not worried about his girth. Catfish likes me and gets up when I arrive in the morning, as does Inky. Jonathan and Nuffy are shier, but loving. And Nuffy has finally started talking too.

This week I felt I was ready to take out the hand stitching I had been doing with Walter before and as he was dying. I looked over and there were orange paws on my table. I did not think I would have orange cats so soon, I figured if it happened it would. But here I am with two male orange cats...and it propelled me to stitch again. 

I know Walter sent them.

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A post shared by Katherine Dunn / Apifera Farm (@katherinedunnapiferafarm)

Old Inky gets roomate and more to come

{Photo taken the day I picked them up, they are sweet but scared}

 It's been busy here and I have neglected to write here. I actually have some thoughts on some issues and I will find time to write about them here and maybe hear your input-more on that next week.

After Walter died, and then old Tommy soon after, it left us with only one old cat in the suite, Inky, who is 20. He is doing fine, getting thinner and more worn but still strong. I don't sense he's checking out soon, but I did not want him to be alone in the room, in case he did. He's very stoic and independent. 

At the same time, my heart needed some space after Walter died, and I threw myself into caring for old Tommy and her matted coat. I wanted her to be matt free before taking her journey, that was my goal. Twice a day I carefully worked n her matts with various tools. And weeks later, I got them all out. She looked like a war hero with her skinny old body but we did it. And then soon after she died.

I decided to let the universe bring me more cats, rather than frantically fill the room up. I did touch base with my shelter contact, but there weren't any at that moment suitable for our set up. But then a few days later, she contcted me with two old cats, bonded, whose owner had died. They'd been to two shelters [often shelters help each other out like this] and they thought of me. And one is orange. We thought he was a boy, but until I can really look we aren't sure as the intake paper says he is a she but my contact is sure he is a boy. Sure acts like a boy.

How nice, and orange boy, like Walter, I thought.

And then, that next day, a 15 year old orange male comes into the shelter. I will pick him up this week.

You know what I think, I'm sure. Walter sent them. Time to get back in there and do some stitching, he's saying.

Good bye to a sweet old girl

 

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We said good bye to Tommy last night. She was almost gone by nighttime chores and I took time to sing to her, with Inky near by. I knew in the last couple days she was transitioning and by the morning yesterday I knew she was close. It was peaceful. She was 20 years old and her time had come. 

After Walter died in May, I made it my mission to get her mats out of her. They had taken over and I could not keep up. I tried many things but each day I found if I took a tooth pick device and slowly opened the mats it worked over time. She was very tolerant. As I worked on her twice a day I remember thinking that I had to give this one last gift to her - to be mat free. I wanted that for her as she took her journey.

Now Inky is alone. I have been holding him a lot more. He is also 20. He has always been quite independent of the other cats and is still in pretty good shape for 20. I have a call into my shelter contact to see what elders might need a home so Inky won't be alone.

At one time we had about 13 elders at once. I am feeling a strong inclination to keep the elder suite to about three cats, and also use it for healing visits, perhaps via Facetime this winter. I think there will be many more lockdowns at my elder residence as fall approaches. I'm looking into adding a separate router and phone line in the room for wifi.

Tommy had trauma in her home before she came here. The older woman had dementia and was put into a home and the husband died in the house by tragic circumstances. I don't know what Tommy saw of any of it. I do know that Tommy liked to take her head and push it into my forehead while I scratched her. So I continued that tradition with her. She was a sweet old girl for sure.

Yume dies a good death, but what does that mean to a human?

I often use the term 'good death", and I did again this weekend when i let my followers know that Yume, one of the first elder cats to be adopted in Maine, died at 19+. I found her, dead, in her little bed where she always sleeps, pretty much where I left her that morning. It was not unexpected. That morning she was weaker in her body and ate little, I held her and reminded her I had bought her that one way ticket, but there was no expiration date–she could leave when she wanted to. And she did. These are the picture of her as I found her and when my chores were finished I captured how Inky and Walter came to lie with her. They had said goodbye long ago.

What is a good death? As a human, i look at it differently than a cat. A cat just wants peace, comfort and to be on their own terms. They don't use the word 'struggle' but they want to be able to breathe, to not be stressed. So yes, I feel in cat terms Yume had a very good death and i was happy for her.

As a human, I see many people die, as do all of you. I often hear people say they want to die in their sleep, and there is merit to that. I recently heard a doctor on a radio interview say that while many say they want to die this way, usually the body has had a heart attack or stroke when a person dies this way. I am not sure if that matters if one is asleep. With animals, I've been able to witness many natural deaths, and other induced deaths. Generally the natural death is how I prefer to see Nature takes it course, unless their is true distress or pain or danger there will be sever trauma ahead without help. But I've also witnessed how it takes a body a long time to shit down when it is in the active process of dying.

But back to a good death. This same doctor brought up the beautiful words of Maurice Sendak in his last interview with Terry Gross. He was in his last months and was ready. But he talked about how age made him acutely aware of how much he loved life, and he talked about his beautiful trees outside his window. He didn't want to miss his trees but because he loved the beauty of Nature and the trees, each second he got was spent in awe and joy of the beauty of it. The doctor said that he felt that was the layered meaning of a 'good death'–when a person can live that moment, and every moment in the day in awe of what is around them, and also be aware they are going to die and eventually they do die. They die aware of the wonder of it all–that is a good death, to be ready, to have lived, lived, lived, lived.

"I have nothing now but praise for my life. I'm not unhappy. I cry a lot because I miss people. They die and I can't stop them. They leave me and I love them more. ... What I dread is the isolation. ... There are so many beautiful things in the world which I will have to leave when I die, but I'm ready, I'm ready, I'm ready." {Maurice Sendak months before dying}

Lemon lets go...but we are happy for him

If you follow social media Apifera, you already know that Lemon died Sunday. I entered the cat suite that morning and Walter was at the door but Lemon was not in his normal place and out of site. 

I knew. 

The day before I was holding him and Walter came over as usual to be at my shoulder-I told Walter that Lemon was going to die soon-his feet were cold and his ears too. I sang a little of that old James Taylor song “so close your eyes you can close your eyes it’s alright...you can stay as long as you like.” I asked Walter to help Lemon feel it was safe to let go. I figured it was days not necessarily hours. He was so thin though.

I'm actually happy for him. The fact he was able to open up more in the last month -partly due to transitioning but also because I do feel he gave in. The fact I could hold him and be with Walter-that was a gift to me. He gave me all the gifts in the last month. He had a very, very strong spirit to have continued to live in his body like that.

I think I might write a story about Lemon and Walter at some point. The old grumpy man letting go, the scared one finally accepting touch...to be touched like he was in the last weeks, to sit with Walter in my lap...I feel it was a gift for him, but also for me of course. But to have held out all those months [since May 2019] and not allow me to touch him, to hiss each time-the energy that took must have worn on him].

Walter is fine. He is actually doing things he didn't do when Lemon was alive. he is coming tot he door more to greet me, he wants to ride on my shoulder all the time, he jumps off his perch to be on the table while I prep food, he comes to the window to look in while i am in the feed room. he seems lighter and happy, and very much bonded to me. He too is getting thin, nothing like Lemon, but I try to keep the weight on but he is 19.

Someone on IG asked me if I had ever written about the fact many of the animals here die naturally. I wasn't sure how to answer, and didn't [I have learned in the past years of social media it is not my job to answer all the questions posed, and I don't anymore]. There was nothing wrong with the question. The fact is, many animals here are helped on their way with a vet. Every caretaker has a comfort level. My feeling is I want the animals to die naturally if they are not suffering. I have seen suffering, when a vet can't get there, it is not pretty and very upsetting. I have done things I didn't think I could do but when we farmed I learned a lot about death, transitions and what is humane and what isn't. Some people think a bullet is more humane than euthanasia for livestock or equines. In some ways I agree-if it is done properly- and sadly some people I've seen boast about it on social media are not those I'd allow to do it but they think they do it just fine [anyone that has a dying lamb but has to tie it to a tree, and then shoots not one properly placed bullet, but FIVE into that little lamb does not know what they are doing].

With the old cats, the stress of taking one to the vet in my opinion is often way too much stress. I regret taking two of the old cats in to the vet when I knew they were dying. One of those cats did die, with me, at the vet, but he had to go through a night in a cage there. I felt pressure to take him, due to living so openly online. But I wish he had died like Walter. I have taken old cats in- like Big Tony-he needed help, and he was 20. Mister Mosely was able to sleep most of his final days and died with me peacefully. So it is not that I am against it, it is simply on a case by case situation. And of course, things can go wrong quickly. I know people that rush to the vet when a cat has the sniffle-that is their right and their comfort level and their budget, I have nothing bad to say about that. I just approach on a individual basis.

Lemon, I did my best, and I also know you did your best, and I am glad you could just be yourself and do things in your own way.

One of the first of the elder cats to arrive...has died.

I arrived at feeding time this morning to find Anna dead. I knew she was starting to isolate herself in the elder cat suite, and was less bossy around her clan than usual. In the past couple weeks, she slept a lot more. She was very still yesterday and last night, she had left her felted cacoon to sleep in an empty bag. I knew her days were fading because she just wasn't interested in life, and wasn't interested in being upset if I tried to brush her too much. She wasn't sitting under the table at breakfast informing the other cats she was there first.

So, there she was, right at the door, outside the bag I'd left her sleeping in. Tommy and Yume were there, sitting, waiting for me. I wasn't surprised, but wasn't completely expecting it this morning.

Anna did me a huge healing service on arrival. We had just moved here in 2016 and some of you might remember the traumatic even where Itty Bitty Etta jumped out of the trailer, just as we were setting out on our journey. We could not find her, and she clearly stated she wanted to stay on her land to roam as she had since her birth in a culvert on the highway. She would have been miserable inside all day and to this writing she still lives at the old farm. But it was so upsetting for me. On arrival we brought in three elders from the shelter–Anna, Sir Tigger and Yume. I thought Anna sort of resembled Itty, but in time I realized she really didn't, but what mattered is I thought she did, and it helped me get over that difficult episode.

Anna was 15, not that old in my terms of what old is since we take on the really old ones. I know she helped me, and I helped her. She had four+ years in which she might have lingered at the shelter. I gave her that space and atmosphere and that is all I set out to do-give them a place to be themselves and not be stressed.

Why she died I don't know. As I've stated before, often we ask "Why?" and the answer is, "Because."

Thank you for helping me, Anna. I will miss seeing you in your window.

A perfect death for Twinky, and I was there

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A post shared by Katherine Dunn / Apifera Farm (@katherinedunnapiferafarm) on Oct 30, 2020 at 7:46am PDT

Twinky died, and I was honored to be holding her in her final moments. This is what I wrote about her on her arrival in July:

We took on another elder into the elder cat suite and she is a dear. She is 18 and I'm told to consider this a hospice case. Twinky was living her whole life with a couple, who grew older, but they had taken her to the vet right up to about 6 months from her arrival here. I can't go into detail, but there was some real drama and trauma in those last 6 months or more in her household with her people. The husband died, and the woman had to go into a facility.

It is believed she has stomach or intestine cancer which has been causing diarrhea, and she is on a steroid. I have not witnessed any, so let's hope. But no matter, we will take care of her. She is very lady like to get her pill so that is good. I spoke to her on arrival and told her I knew there had been traumatic events in the house. Who knows what parts of those events she witnessed. But I wanted to acknowledge them.

 

I knew it was coming a day ago. She had been sleeping more than normal, and when she got up to see me that morning, she fell to her side. But she was in no distress with breathing or actions. She was so tiny. At first, I was thinking, "Really? Another one, can we just go a month?"

 

But then of course, I moved on from that thought. You don't take elder-very elder-cats from the shelter with health issues thinking they will some how go on. But I also realized, I was able to give her exactly what I had intended to give her-a place to open up enough to feel the love and safety, and to release when her body gave out. It is why we do what we do, or I do. The idea of her in the shelter, with more sounds and louder activity, possibly in  a crate in the end due to her condition, it is our intent to get them out of there so they can die in a more homelike setting [the shelter people are hard working, caring, animal lovers, don't get me wrong, but they too love that we can help with these seniors that really aren't adoptable for most people].

When I held her and sang to here here, she was pretty much transcending, you see how her eyes are like glass, and I touched them-a sure sign her body is shutting down. I was so glad I was there. It was quiet and peaceful and who was lurking above me on the upper shelf? Walter. Perhaps he is taking up the work of our beloved nurse, Noritsu.

So on we go.

How do I keep doing it, she asked

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A post shared by Katherine Dunn / Apifera Farm (@katherinedunnapiferafarm) on Sep 30, 2020 at 8:05am PDT

You might have already read elsewhere that sweet little Fuzzy died. I knew she was dying a few days ago and she went into pretty much a death slumber 24 hours before formally passing. The video was right before her body finally let go. She was very much 'not here' and not in stress.

Sometimes people ask how I keep facing loss over and over. I guess you could ask the same of elder caregivers at residences. Someone once said people have to be wired for it.

I don't know.

I think maybe I am just at a place in my life where I can keep doing it, keep going on after a death. Some hit you really hard of course. Some are a relief when they pass [like Fuzzy, due to her chronic cyst issues I was relieved for her]. And I won't say one gets desensitzed to it the loss, one just evolves into the role.I still have so many charges here, that after I buried Fuzzy, I came back to the ct room and hung out with the other cats for awhile. They all need me.

Maybe that's reason enough. Other animals need me, need a place like Apifera, so you don't question going on. Maybe someday I will question it, but not now.

The video below is this morning's Walter Song. He came over to me everytime I was attending Fuzzy in the pass days, even more than Noritsu. I have noticed Walter has lost a teeny bit of wight. I asked him not to go yet. But then I told him I can't do that and it is out of my hands but I sure do like having him here.

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A post shared by Katherine Dunn / Apifera Farm (@katherinedunnapiferafarm) on Oct 1, 2020 at 6:03am PDT

Help feed the Apifera elder cat suite!

Your direct donations from our Apifera Amazon Wish list of canned cat food and dry food for our elder cat suite is essential to keeping everybody fed and as healthy as possible.

When you buy, you also have the option of doing a monthly donation that is automatic. This is also very helpful.

Also, just a tip, when you buy, consider adding a note to me so I know who you are. Otherwise, I simply get a receipt with a link that allows me to send you a thank you via Amazon but I don't always get to see the name.

Sir Tigger's big journey...sweet passage, old man

Sir Tigger as he begins his solo journey last night

Sir Tigger has died. He was 20+ years old.

Tigger was an important cat to me and I told him this often this week because I knew he was getting ready to go on his journey. He came to us from the shelter in 2016 and along with Anna and Yume were the first cats we adopted out of the shelter. He was important because when we arrived in Maine I was excited but was also mourning my old Oregon farm -having Tigger in the barn felt like home and he truly helped in my transition. He also looked like Big Tony who came with us from Oregon and went onto live another year. So after Big Tony died, Tigger also helped me.

Tig started failing this year and a couple days ago it was clear he was dying. He was in no distress and yesterday morning I held him and knew he was hardly there. I put him in a basket and checked on him all day. When I left him at dinner I said goodbye knowing he would be gone. He died shortly after from all indications.

Tigger came to us after his elder owner went to a home. He lived another 4+ years and had a peaceful passing. He was his own cat, never one for snuggles, but accepting scratches and a hug or two. In the end,, he was so tiny, he was like a wisp of his former self, like little old men you might see walking who barely have a waistline anymore. I am grateful he could die in his own terms-that is so him, to be on his own terms.

Sir Tigger last year

Twinky Twinkles arrives

The new elder, Twinkles, on top, and Fuzzy on the bottom

We took on another elder into the elder cat suite and she is a dear. She is 18 and I'm told to consider this a hospice case. Twink was living her whole life with a couple, who grew older, but they had taken her to the vet right up to about 6 months from her arrival here. I can't go into detail, but there was some real drama and trauma in those last 6 months or more in her household with her people. The husband died, and the woman had to go into a facility.

It is believed she has stomach or intestine cancer which has been causing diarrhea, and she is on a steroid. I have not witnessed any, so let's hope. But no matter, we will take care of her. She is very lady like to get her pill so that is good.

I spoke to her on arrival and told her I knew there had been traumatic events in the house. Who knows what parts of those events she witnessed. But I wanted to acknowledge them.

Fuzzy needs a spoon

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A post shared by Katherine Dunn / Apifera Farm (@katherinedunnapiferafarm) on Jun 30, 2020 at 7:44am PDT

Her name is Fuzzy but she is not a wuzzy

Fuzzy, a new arrival, is 18

My contact at the shelter asked if we had room for this sweet old lady, Fuzzy. She had been lingering at the rescue because she is old, but also because she has a cauliflower growth on her ear and a bleeding cyst on top of that.

She is the sweetest little thing and despite her grumpy look she is a lady. Although you can tell when she is a bit low if the cyst flares up. I've been holding her and she is doing fine.

It is rewarding to take an elder in that lost his or her elder human. It is what we humans all hope for when we die-that our loved ones and animals will be cared for. I like to think that the people who pass know...I will believe they do, as I hope I will when my time comes.

The world continues on in its madness and the farm keeps on going day by day, watching spring so slow this year, it seems. But everything is a bit off kilter, for everyone I guess. I have not really had the focus on the blog to write intelligently about any of it. I sort of feel like I have lead shoes on some days.

But I can not complain, I have work outside, and inside, and while money is not flowing in we are not desparate like many find themselves...who knows what the future holds. I worry that the tourists will come into our villages...too soon...and puts us all back months. I feel for everyone especially those unable to see loved ones, or hold the hand of the sick or dying. So many stories out there-the graduating seniors of high school and college that had their final months together at school taken away. It's not the saddest thing of course, but I feel sad for them, that is an age of great emotion and of a time where intense friendships are formed.

I really hope I can resume my animal therapy sooner than later, not only–selfishly–for me, but for the elders who have been cooped up so long.

And so, bringing on another old cat is rewarding and comforting for me, especially now. I feel useful and I feel like it is a step forward in my passion and life's work. I've really waited my entire life to have my passion for animal and elder and art and writing all mesh, and here it is, and I am grateful. It could be gone in a heartbeat, and I cherish each day, each new photograph before my eyes. Each day with Martyn is a blessing too.

More leaps for Walter

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A post shared by Katherine Dunn / Apifera Farm (@katherinedunnapiferafarm) on Mar 31, 2020 at 7:52am PDT

My followers are really getting happy watching the progress Walter is making. Who doesn't like a Rocky story where the Grumpiest Old Cat slowly-over a year-takes tiny steps, along with steps back, to reach a level of trust with another creature, in this case, me.

Today I was able to pet Walter's back and tail. If you watch both videos you will see him push his face into me-a true sign of marking and trust. When I come in the room, he watches me as usual, but it is more of a "Are you coming over here soon to pet me?" look.

I'm just so proud of his willingness to wait it out, and mine too I guess. So, don't give up on any creature. It took Paco the donkey almost two years to settle.

I so wanted to put my face into his today, but refrained. I don't do that with all the cats, they each have their own boundaries, but I just so wanted to hold him. Maybe in time, maybe not.

Meanwhile, I talk to Lemon every day and am not pushing him, but will see if we get further than we have, maybe we won't, and that is fine, it might jut be what his comfort level is and he doesn't really want some raggedy lady singing Puff the Magic Dragon to him.

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A post shared by Katherine Dunn / Apifera Farm (@katherinedunnapiferafarm) on Mar 31, 2020 at 7:43am PDT

When an old grumpy cat releases almost one year later

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A post shared by Katherine Dunn / Apifera Farm (@katherinedunnapiferafarm) on Mar 24, 2020 at 2:21pm PDT

It was May of 2019 when The Grumpiest Old Men came to Apifera after they had lived a semi ferel life before being turned over tot he shelter after the person caring for them had to move. My contact at the shelter, along with other volunteers, had worked to try to tender them up so they could be adopted, but she knew that these two were problematic and she asked if I might take them on. We both knew that I was pretty much the end of the line for them.

On arrival, they were so tense their pupils were like flying saucers, they stuck together in a pile, they hissed even if I was 20 feet away...I wasn't sure I had done the right thing, but they did not bother the other elders and I knew if they became a threat to anyone, my contact would take them back. For those first weeks, maybe months, if I entered the room they would fly off whereever they were sitting and hide. I was very careful how I moved around them. One of them was much more ferel than the other, and at the shelter they found this to be true too. They had touched the other one, briefly.

I named them The Grumpiest Old Men, but then also named them Walter and Lemon. For almost a year I've been documenting my progress with Walter [on Instagram]. I also began singing to him. At some point, I took a back scratcher and began using that to try to desensitize him. Over the weeks that followed, even though he always hissed in the beginning, he became calmer with me. People watched over the months as his glare became softer, the hisses became less angry and scared, and one day, I touched him-by keeping the backscratcher at his face, and using my other hand to gently and quickly touch him.

About two weeks ago, I made huge steps with Walter. I was able to pet him without using the aide of the back scratcher. It was marvelous feeling, and his eyes were softer. Days later, [see video above] I came to him, and he was sitting upright, and allowed me to pet him at length, he even looked at me and -well, he was a different cat. He also became more confidant and began sleeping in more open spots n the room.

When I come in now, I pet him, and there is no hissing. I am still very careful to not make sudden movements. But I really see his eyes tell me he is liking this thing called touch.

My dream would be to pick him up, but I'm just so happy for him, that he released the fear. What a long road and challenge for him, and me, but I had all the time in the world for him and was in no rush. One must never be in a rush when working with animals or they will sense it and not listen or trust. I never work with treats either, ever, with any animal-I want them to be present with me when they are open to that, not because they smell a treat. Using treats with goats, dogs, llamas or horses-in my expereince-creates a pushy animal, and a pushy animal creates a dangerous situation.

I have not pushed Lemon. He has made some advances-like he stays out in the room when I arrive rather than retreating to a hidden corner. He will tolerate my moving about the room, sometimes even if I'm five feet away. His eyes are not as ferel and he sleeps with the other cats well. My goal is not to push him. I'm not even sure touch is the goal, I just want him to feel more relaxed if I am closer to him.

I'm very proud of Walter...and I think he actually likes me.

This video below was a month ago when I still got a hiss, and I still used the backscratcher for protection.

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A post shared by Katherine Dunn / Apifera Farm (@katherinedunnapiferafarm) on Feb 17, 2020 at 7:09am PST