Sometimes in our moments of weakness (or on what I like to call “level red mental health days”) we make these impulse decisions and it may not feel like the smartest in the moment but either you are going to learn from that weakness or you are going to bloom from it
– Drunk Uncle Otis was the moment of weakness here in the adorable house of misfits but it is a journey that we have elected to take as a family in ongoing efforts to continue to fan the flame that is our dumpster fire family (said with absolutely love)!
Drunk Uncle Otis was scheduled to be put to sleep at a clinic about an hour or so from me, the “owner” stated that the original D.U.O was 17 years old and no longer used the litterbox and it was simplyhis “time”.
Que the record scratch here, folks.
Luckily thanks to the observant and empathetic eye of the veterinary hospital they realized that:
1. If dude was 17 that he was the most impressive looking, Benjamin Button ginger in the world – they have him estimated to be about 6 years old. (oh the stories people will weave!)
2. D.U.O is also front paw declawed and has a mild form of cerebellar hypoplasia and since he was “no longer using the facilities” he was no longer worthy of compassion or love (total FYI he has had zero litterbox issues since coming to the land of adorable misfits).
I am sure that you all know how difficult it is to adopt out handicats to stable and loving homes let alone them being older (or having multiple handicapable qualities) so you know my inner guilt began to play on me (that and I was having reruns of when Bifford was D.U.O’s age and scared all alone waiting for his time to shine).
So just slap a kick me sign on my back and a dunce cap on my head as #MadMax and I embarked on our Saturday morning adventure to go get Drunk Uncle Otis (who is named after the drunk uncle from the Andy Griffith Show).
Pretty much instantly I knew that the D.U.O would be joining our happy band of misfits as we were not even two miles from picking him up (with well over an hour left in the car on the freeway) and D.U.O gifted #MaxMax and I with what I had initially thought was throw-up only to be delightfully tickled to know that it was, in fact, urine that he then began to roll around in without any shame in the world.
But in that moment, I knew he would fit in with the other handipets here aboard the S.S PEN15 and that filled my heart with a morbid sense of happiness and fulfillment.
Thinking I had this handicat mom gig in the bag I placed D.U.O in our spare room with a baby gate installed to keep the others out and he in (imagine my utter shock when I thought I outsmarted the ginger handicat by putting up said baby gate only to be schooled while he cleared it like he was a catapult jumper) in addition to what we can only assume was being beat up and bullied at his former home because though he is not mean he speaks three levels of Satan whenever he sees one of the other handicats galivanting about the house behaving without concern by D.U.O and his saucy attitude sprinkled with some few choice words.
Was I absolutely concerned that the handicats would react poorly to D.U.O? Sure!
Are they? Abso-sh!t-ley not! They could give two cat turds less that this red menace is bouncing around the house grumbling to himself.
I understand (and remind myself multiple times a day) that I cannot save them all, I cannot take *all* of the handicats or overstretch my limits but I *can* agree to help when I can, educate when I can, lend a hand when I am able to.
And in this particular moment something called me to D.U.O. I know there are plenty of adult handicats in the world needing love and homes but for the moment I will consider this a win because we are changing the life of one handicat in particular: Drunk Uncle Otis (as well as Bifford, Bart and Max!)
Bart came to my house the late summer/early fall of 2017 from a local veterinary clinic where a friend worked who called me in a panic one afternoon alerting me to “two small sick kittens that were dumped off at the clinic” — a small, yet affectionate calico (we later named Taloola) and a terrified, mousey black kitten (who later became Bart) both were riddled with fleas and both had a RAGING upper respiratory infection that caused their eyes to be crusted shut with thick greenish yellow discharge as well as sneezing/audible breathing and the occasion booger bubble.
My friend informed me that the smaller black kitten seemed to have suffered the most damage — coming to them with a broken back leg (they suspect something attempted to eat him judging by the puncture wounds matching up with the now healing break), a hernia and his left eye had ruptured totally – no doubt due to the ongoing, untreated upper respiratory they both were suffering.
My friend prepared me for the worst when it came to the little black kitten – she informed me that he was not nice or affectionate and anyone that adopted him would have to understand and agree that he would just simply “live” out his days within the home and may never actually warm up to people. The veterinary clinic agreed to continue medical care/vaccinations and eventually “fixing” them both just as long as I agreed to foster them temporarily.
Reluctantly I agreed. Something in my gut was pulling me towards that sick, meek little black kitten that cowered beyond belief anytime anyone remotely came near him.
Luckily I went with my gut because it paid off in the end (mainly for Bart as he is now living his absolute best and happiest life!).
The veterinarian at this clinic did not believe Bart’s eye had ruptured yet (when indeed, it had) so they attempted to have me continue to place eye ointment on an eye that no longer was there (it was losing pressure quickly and seeped constantly) as well as a menagerie of antibiotics to help combat the gnarly URI he had (Taloola at this point had healed up nicely without any issue or chronic complications & now lives with her forever home not far from where we live!) all without any improvement or success.
When it came time to neuter Bart I brought him back to the veterinary clinic he had originally been dumped off at (the clinic that had agreed to assume all veterinary/medical care for BOTH Bart & Taloola) only to be informed that his bloodwork was showing his white blood cell count was well over 30,000 (a normal, healthy cats white blood cell count is roughly 4,900 to 20,00 depending on the cat’s age etc.) which indicated he had an infection “somewhere” and they were unable to neuter him.
Frustrated. I told them I could pinpoint where the infection was- his left ruptured eyeball. It needed to come out or that infection would continue to drain and he would never improve and his respiratory symptoms would continue without fail.
This particular veterinarian (who again, may I stress agreed upon me fostering these kittens to assume all veterinary/medical care for them) looked over the scared, miserable looking kitten only to reply to my infection discovery with, “we feel that since this kitten is simply a stray, it is financially irresponsible for us to remove that eyeball and with his bloodwork indicating an infection we also do not feel it best to neuter him either…”
Friends believe me when I tell you that as he was explaining that since this was “no one’s cat” and simply a “stray” that his clinic refused to care for the clearly obvious issue — something they had agreed they would do upon my acceptance to foster these two kittens — I saw RED.
At that point I had decided that this sad, sorry looking little black kitten was going to be MY KITTEN. It did not matter to me that he did not want to play or be affectionate. It did not matter to me that he hid most of the time and the only time I was able to corral him out from under the bed was when my husband and I played “defense” with a yard stick and a broom handle and gently coaxed him out from his hiding spot while the other prepared to grab him — all that mattered was that he was now SOMEONES’S CAT and would never have to worry again about where his next meal came from or if he would receive quality medical care or the fact he could no longer be written off as “simply a stray”. Bart was now MY cat and my newest addition to the ragtag band of misfits I had at home to love and care for.
[Needless to say Bart NEVER, EVER went back to the above mentioned veterinary clinic]
Eventually, EVENTUALLY Bart was able to get neutered (his hernia repaired while they neutered him) and his left eye removed (or the tattered remains of his left eye) and after a long, long road (with said veterinarian who removed his left eye “accidentally” leaving in his eye socket a piece of gauze and suture material so that eventually had to be corrected) he is now a happy, healthy, sweet, affectionate, ornery kitten who put his rough and rocky start to life behind him only to see better, loving and snack filled days ahead of him.
Bart was a “broken” black kitten with no type of personality or affection thus he was simply written off as just another stray, another hopeless and worthless cause but all he needed was for someone to be HIS advocate. For someone to not give up on him and to be soft spoken, compassionate, patient and kind with him. In time (and thousands of snackies later…) Bart realized that my husband and I were “OK people” and truly cared for his health and well-being. Bart then began to come up for cuddle time- with zero regards to personal space he would climb on top of your chest while you were in bed and sandwich his sweet little face against yours as he purred the most audible, soothing, sweet and satisfying purr one has ever heard before.
Bart has no idea that he is part of the “handicat” duo I affectionately rave about to anyone who will listen, in fact Bart is no different than my other cats living at home with us – he eats and drinks without issue, he runs and plays and has “question marks” (where his tail curls up into what looks like a question mark — this is how my husband and I know he is going to be the most playful/ornery) and I really believe he has NO clue that he should have two eyes instead of simply one (due to the severe URI he had suffered that caused his left eye to rupture but also left severe scar tissue covering his right eyeball. The veterinarian he see’s now and LOVES believes that Bart can see a little bit though how clearly he can see is up for debate).
Bart is part of the inspiration for “Bifford for President” because for as many adversities as Bifford has endured in his life Bart has battled just as many (if not more) and he is only four years old (Bifford is ten years old) and despite (at the time) not being “anyone’s cat” and “just a stray” he was still entitled to the SAME quality of care and standards of a cat who was not a stray and had a home. Bart is a living being worthy of good quality care and a good quality life. Between both of my “handicats” I had work to do as far as education & advocacy went (sadly enough most of my work focuses on veterinary clinics/staff that seem misinformed or upholding the stigma that surrounds these sweet babies).
Bart is the reason. Bart is MY reason why I stress to families to give that scared, sad kitten/cat a chance! If I would have looked at Bart that very first time and made a snap judgement then I would not have taken him home most likely. I had early on admitted to my husband that Bart was most likely going to be our “cellar dweller” – not wanting to be near us, not being affectionate or a “normal kitten” I had made it up in my mind that if he was okay not wanting our attention and spending his days hiding under furniture at least he was safe, indoors and getting regular meals and a nice warm bed in addition to regular, gold standard veterinary care.
Bart had proved me wrong and continued to inspire me to advocate and rally for these babies – the “broken” or the “scared”.
So I ask you to keep “fighting the good fight” when it comes to specially-abled animals! Be their voice! Speak up and speak out against any atrocities or ill informed stigma that envelope these sweet, special babies… you might be surprised to find your next animal “soulmate” waiting for you!
Can you imagine this sweet, genuine, affectionate, absolute pure face being returned to the cat shelter three separate times? THREE?!
Image him after return to the shelter #1 (the family was “going on vacation and did not want to be bothered with Bifford anymore, as per their surrender form) as he is placed back into the “general population” of other cats equally awaiting their forever homes as Bifford watches the doorway…patiently waiting for his “people” to return to get him. As the tock ticks by with each minute Bifford’s heart sinks just a little more as eventually he realizes they are not coming back for him. They tossed him away as if he was some disposable, inanimate object without a care in the world. Bifford perks up every single time the doorknob twists as he waits with anticipation for it to be “his people” only to be disappointed every single time.
Top that off with the fact that Bifford is not as fast nor nimble as the other cats so every time he attempts to bobble into the litter box and concentrate with all of his might, every time its “feeding time” and the large bowls of kibble are placed for a “come and get it” meal time, every time a prospective family enters the room he is promptly knocked over by the swarms of other eager cats, bullied by some of the “top dogs” of the room and becomes more reclusive — hiding in the corner of the room where he felt most safe with the wall to his back and his eyes always watching to ensure he is not randomly sought out by a room bully for a match that would be less than fair of a fight.
This is why I will forever stress to families to (if you are able to) volunteer to foster any prospective adoptive pets! Bifford would (sadly) not have stuck out in a room full of eager cats that maul you in affection as soon as you hit the shelter doorway, meowing and rubbing on your leg in an attempt to yell “pick me pick me! Couple this with the fact that he is a black cat (which sadly, statistically are not on the top favorites to adopt due to the reason they do not show up on “selfies” well — I will post this article reflecting this in an upcoming post).
Bifford came to me by chance. He was getting bullied at the shelter and was not really coming out from his hiding place. The shelter was concerned about him and felt he was simply not thriving in the shelter environment and felt a temporary foster home away from the shelter would do him some good and I am inclined to agree (look at the above photos of him at the shelter versus him at home — the results speak for themselves!).
I urge you to give those “not so eager” pets waiting for their forever homes in rescues, shelters and pounds a fair chance! Despite the fact that they are not mauling you in affection in a shelter setting does not mean they will not be a totally different pet once you get them into your home and give them an opportunity!
We have received lots of messages pertaining to cerebellar hypoplasia pets & pet insurance and unfortunately we have not been able to find a pet insurance that would cover “CH” pets! Below is listed a chart courtesy of DVM360 that shows the top pet insurance companies and breaks down the “dirty details” of each insurance company.
Upon speaking to one of the pet insurance companies “Figo Pet Insurance” I kindly asked them to specify their “pre-existing policy” and how this pertains to cerebellar hypoplasia pets.
“Cerebellar hypoplasia will be considered a pre-existing condition even though the pet is born with it unless it happens to not show signs or symptoms until after the pet has a policy. The earliest you can insure a pet is 8 weeks old and we have a 14 day waiting period for illnesses. In order for the cerebellar hypoplasia to be covered, there would need to not be any signs or symptoms until the pet was at least 10 weeks old…”
I then asked Figo Pet insurance about “accidents or illnesses” [Figo Pet Insurance states that you can still get pet insurance for a CH pet BUT any illnesses/injuries that could be related to CH would NOT be covered by pet insurance] so I asked them to clarify that.
“We base all coverage off of the medical records your veterinarian provides. With CH the coverage will heavily depend on if your veterinarian feels the accident or illness is related to the CH. For example, if your vet states “CH caused pet to fall over and break tooth” it would be considered due to a pre-existing condition. If your vet states that there is a broken tooth and does not consider it due to the pre-existing CH then it could be covered We could also offer coverage for other accidents or illnesses that your vet deems unrelated to the CH like urinary issues, allergies, diabetes, or cancers…”
So the jury is still out on pet insurance! In our opinion we feel that the pet insurance companies will try to connect any injury/illness to CH (thus the pet insurance not covering the bill for!) so personally we feel it is not worth having your CH baby on pet insurance but always stress to do your homework! If you are looking into insurance for your CH pet contact them directly and ask questions pertaining strictly to cerebellar hypoplasia!
We recommend looking into Care Credit (www.carecredit.com) which is sort of like a credit card that you can only use at the veterinarian’s office (or you can personally use it also! I recently used my care credit at the dentist office!)
This cat wheelchair is for all the kitty cats out there in the world who are missing one or both of their hind legs, or for those with crippled or paralyzed hind legs. Our goal was to build a wheelchair, for disabled cats, that is just as effective, and more affordable than other wheelchairs on the market. Many cat wheelchairs on the market can cost upwards of one hundred dollars. Ours cost us around twenty dollars.
Bolt and washers
First cut two 15 inch pieces of PVC pipe.
Cut PVC pipes to a height of 9 inch (including the 90 degree t-junction)
Connect your pipes to form a U shape
Cut the height pieces to 1.5 inch length and add the new connector pieces for the cat to rest it’s back legs.
Cut axle shield 6 inches
Insert bolts in the hole of the axle and apply necessary amount of washers to those bolts
Drill a small hole into the sides -1/2 in back from front- and dremel the hole to the desired width
Connect axle shield and t-junctions to the U shaped pieces from earlier
Take wheels and screw them onto the bolts
Place cat in harness
Route sweatshirt string through cat harness and run through holes drilled in step 7
Have fun with your little critter and his new found freedom
We’ve all heard the stories – – the tales from handipet parents sympathizing to one another in a Facebook group, the group chat including foster families and volunteers or even veterinary staff …
We have *all* heard the saying, “they can be ‘pet friendly’ BUT are they ‘handipet friendly’?”
In the new year we decided to tweak some of our regular resolutions of education and awareness to bring something that is making the amazing handipet tri-pawd (get it?! tri-pawd!? Please forgive my “dad joke”!) the ultimate trifecta: unity!
So we are launching the “HandiPet Alliance” – just a group of like-minded “allies” that can be anyONE that supports handipet awareness and compassion can apply!
What Happens When Applying?
You will receive an e-mail confirming your submission & get our “alliance” logo to proudly display on your website/social media — wherever!
If you are a veterinarian/organization you will be added to our “misfit map” and directory (this is does not apply if you are NOT an organization) to alert others that you are misfit friendly!
This “logo” will let the world know that you stand united with handipet advocacy and education and help network and unite pet parents worldwide!