Rabies in New Jersey

It all started about six months ago. A black creature was seen skittering across our backyard always lingering in the shadows at night. Slowly over time the black creature came closer and closer till finally it showed itself to us.

A very cute black kitten with fur that glistened in the moonlight. It had befriended our two other cats and would come to eat with them. After a month I decided it was time for the wild kitty to have a name. Tuxedo Cat it came to be, always dressed for the occasion with a bow tie and white shirt it would attend dinners and dine with it's feline friends. How I wanted to pet this kitty, it looked so soft, and fluffy... I would pine as I watched this very skittish kitty lick her friends, play in the moonlight, and dart the minute I stepped up to the plate. I would give that all back now just to see her play again.

The day finally came where I stood next to the table as my friendly kitty friends dined, and suddenly out of thin air there was Tuxedo two inches from my finger, I froze, lifted my finger and was able to touch her for a brief moment. Her eyes went wild, and she was gone.

Over the next few weeks of finger touches, she became less afraid of me, and came closer every day. Soon she was seen in the mornings, in the afternoon, and always at night, she came running to my song of "Tuxedo Cat, where are you? Come to me my little Tuxedo Cat" and out she would come from a bush or a tree to eat, but never to be touched. Watching her toss sticks into the air, and play with balls, and chase her tail was enough joy for me. I loved to watch this ball of life be a crazy little cat.

One day I thought I was seeing double. There on my outdoor patio table stood two Tuxedo Cats. Identical except for a tiny white patch difference around the mouth. Tuxedo had a twin sister. This must be who she hangs out with, and she has brought her to the party. I was thrilled to see the two of them bonding over a meal. The hubster on the other hand, sighed, and was like, "Oh great another cat to feed, when is this going to end?"

Winter came slowly, till it finally broke and the temperature went below zero. A storm hit and we were hit with a good amount of snow. I had all the cat houses outfitted, the horses blanketed, and heat lamps on, all my animals were bundled and protected from the storm. Two days went by, no Tuxedo cat… I started to worry. I called for her, went looking for her in her hiding spots, looked for paw prints. I couldn't find her.

It was around 8:30pm on a Saturday night when the hubster came in from outside yelling at me to come quick. I went outside and there was Tuxedo, yet she wasn't acting right. She was meowing non stop, loud meows… not her normal kitten mew. She also was around our feet, never leaving us alone. She would grab onto our legs, while yelling frantically at us. We didn't know what to do. "She's nuts! She's acting totally nuts!, what's wrong with her?" is all the hubster and I could muster to say. I finally just scooped her up, and held her in my lap. She quieted down, and would stay still while I stroked her silky fluffy fur. She started to purr. I was in heaven, finally I get to touch this cat, and she is enjoying my company. I finally had to put her down, I was freezing and she went walking away, meowing loudly, acting strange. I went to bed.

In the morning there she was… meowing… still. I got a call from the hubster saying that she had molested his legs as he went to work that morning. She tried to jump in the car with him, and then ran under the car and wouldn't come out… while meowing all the while. I watched her all day…

By Sunday night I was worried… Ron (our friendly cat/dog) was feeling under the weather, he had just had his tail bitten by an animal and had been in the house the past few days. I thought maybe she missed him. I took him outside to see her. He did something very strange.
He hissed
He growled
He swatted at her
His fur stood up on edge, and then he darted back into the house.

And then… she followed him into the house.
She was now in our kitchen. Yet… she stopped meowing, and desperately wanted to be with him.
We blocked him in the kitchen… both the hubster and I sat in the kitchen watching the two interact. Ron growled, and tried desperately to leave the kitchen. Tuxedo ran up to him with wide eyes pleading for his help. He hissed at her, and walked away… she turned her back to him… yet… she stopped meowing.
The hubster and I had a sit down with Ron… "What is wrong with you?" "Why don't you like her anymore?" "Was she the one that bit you?"

Ron looked at us… with pleading eyes… feeling ashamed, but staring at us intently.

"It's not me" "It's her" He was saying to us.

When she was in the kitchen, I noticed she was walking funny. 

Perhaps she has broken something.

In the morning I decided to take her to the vet.
She was examined on Tuesday morning, and they found no broken bones or problems. Her back leg would buckle out, and she was walking like a duck. Her temperature was low and the vet advised me to bring her into the house and keep her warm. 

The vet casually mentioned that if she dies within the week, it could be Rabies… But he mentioned this very quickly and casually, seeing as it wasn't the top on his list for things wrong with her.

I brought her home and made her a warm nest in the corner of my kitchen.
For the next two days, she didn't eat, pee or poop. She barely moved unless to go and lay in her liter box. She preferred to sleep there. She quickly went paralyzed in her back legs. I was certain it was neurological, and as her symptoms started to come forth, I started to Google like mad.

All signs pointed to Rabies.
The hairs stood up on the back of my neck each time.
I now had a cat in my kitchen that had scratched and licked my hands… that may have Rabies.

I called Animal Control and told them to come pick up this cat that may have Rabies. They never answered the phone, or called me back.
I called the Police. They did nothing.
I called The animal Shelters. They were more worried about me being exposed and told me to call all the same people I already called.
Nobody could help me.

I was able to call each new symptom before it happened.
She went to the Vet on Tuesday walking like a duck.
By Wednesday she was paralyzed up to the arm pits.
By Thursday night at exactly 6:00 pm she started to have seizures, and tried to bite her own paw off. She would growl and howl, and became extremely violent, her tongue would hang from her mouth.  I decided it was time to end her suffering. I had spent the last four days holding this cat in my lap and bonding with her… she was now my friend. Yet, this creature… this monster, was no longer Tuxedo. It was a Zombie… I quickly ended the suffering, and then broke down….

My father was freaking out since Wednesday, calling me non stop to ask if Animal Control came yet.… he wanted this animal tested now. There was nothing I could do though… nobody would come get the cat.

My dad finally got ahold of Animal Control. He threatened to call the newspaper and tell them all about a cat with Rabies that they didn't come and get.

Tuxedo was picked up a week later, tested a day later, and then I knew for sure that this poor cat… did indeed have Rabies. Bad news… for me, and my animals.

The Health Department showed up with a letter explaining the situation. The letter went out to the school across the street, and to all the neighbors…. after all… according to this letter... Rabies is an epidemic in our area.

I promptly took every cat I could get my hands on to the vet to get their Rabies shots.

and then….

I had to go get my Rabies shots.
One Tetanus shot in my left arm
A preventative Rabies shot in my right arm, left hip and right hip.
The actual Rabies shot in my left arm.
And then 20 injections of preventative rabies shots around my wrist where I had been scratched and licked.

Not to mention that the only place to get these shots is the Emergency Room.
And…
I had to go back 3 days later, for another shot in my right arm
I then went back 4 days later for another shot in my right arm
and then on Sunday I go for my last shot, and I will be free of this.

In total this has cost a ton of money in medical care.
A ton of emotional stress.
and…
now I'm known as the "Girl getting her Rabies Shots" at the ER.

So please…
Get your pets vaccinated.
Wash your hands with soap and water after getting a scratch or bite from ANY animal.
I am thankful that I am a neurotic hand washer.

Tuxedo Cat and Ron in love. 

Tuxedo Cat Purring in her box a day before she died. Paralyzed in the back legs. 

In sickness and health

Mango holding on to her life support. 

I'm in a morally tight spot today. I took Mango my chicken off of life support. Meaning, that I have stopped the antibiotics, I stopped feeding her my power green juice and water, and have left her to her own ways.

This morning she did not speak to me when I said "GOOD MORNING MANGO!!"

Ron (my sheep dog cat) sat outside all night howling.... the same howl he comes to me with when watts is up from his nap and screaming to get out.

Ron has not left Mango's side... he sleeps right next to her and only comes in to eat. I don't quite understand the relationship except I think Ron may think that this is another baby that is clearly sick.

Anyway, I couldn't take it any longer. I can't let her die.... I should really just snap her neck and get this over with, but Ron and I can save her.... I just have to feed her, and she will be up and at them again. Who cares if it is a huge pain in the ass, and that it takes a lot of work. She gets better and it's because of my force feedings.

I picked her up and inspected her... bone thin, she hasn't been eating enough.... She is starving.

After lots of research I have determined that she has something called crookneck. It normally happens with the breed "Silkie" which is the breed of my "Fluffy girl"

Mango is not a silkie. Silkies get this disorder because they have a soft spot on their skull.  All it takes is one sharp peck to the skull from another bird and bam, the neck goes in between the feet, and they start walking backwards. It's neurological.

This could be what Mango has, but I'm not a vet, and for some reason it seems that chickens are hard to diagnose because they are tough little bastards that refuse to act or show sickness.

I'm going to become a chicken clucker (like a horse whisperer only with lucks instead of whispers) and  I know I can save this bird with lots of diligent care. Who cares if she spends the rest of her life walking backwards with her neck all screwy. I have better conversations with her than I do most humans. AND... Ron told me to "DO SOMETHING!, Quick"

It's morally wrong. This bird may be suffering, and I am letting it go on much longer then it should. I am also defying nature. Yet, look at those parents that lost two kids that were really sick... they just prayed for them to get better and did not take them to the hospital and the kids died, and now... the parents are on trial for watching their kids die without giving them medical attention.

I could go to jail..... I HAVE TO SAVE THE DAY!


Anyway, to make a long story short.

I injected Mango, my speechless girl with my green juice and some water. The food is in her gullet being digested. After a half hour I put her on her back and held her claw... her foot wrapped around my finger tighter and tighter as the food passed into her body. And then.... a squeak.

and a purr.....

My girl was coming back to life in front of me. I massaged the bottom of her foot and noticed it turned from white/blue to yellow. The color of health.

She was still in there somewhere.

"Mango my sweet girl.... are you still in there? Mommy is here"
a very week "cheep cheep.... purrrrrr"

What a compliment.
A real purr.... that is only given amongst baby flocks as they snuggle in together under the heat lamp at night.

This sucks.... to be honest. I just wanted some chickens to lay some eggs. I hated birds before this... they are so complicated, and hard to take care of. They have crazy bodies, and personalities.

My whole life I had animals that would just drop dead the minute I brought them home from the pet shop.... Dozens of fish, hamsters, Guinea pigs, rats, cats, dogs, rabbits, chinchillas... are buried in my backyard....

AND now... my curse is that I get very sick animals that just wont die.
All for a stupid purr and some conversation, and the look of gratitude and devotion.
And Ron giving me the look of desperation to save his new friend. I can't take it! I'm special, this bird is special, and Ron is special, we are a bunch of special need idiots bonded to the hip!

It's wrong.
I know it..... Maybe someone should just snap my neck out of this ridiculousness.

Natural Devastation and some simple pleasures

Here are places not to live. Notice that New Jersey and Pennsylvania are in the clear? That's because I don't want to die today! 

Oklahoma was hit hard by a tornado. It touched down for 40 minutes and mowed down 20 miles of homes, two schools, and a few hospitals.

The biggest tornado in the world hit around the same place in 1999.

As always it is horrible.... but.... if you know that this place is hit hard by reoccurring tornado's... wouldn't you invest in a better shelter? or better yet... move someplace that doesn't suck?

California.... known to have earthquakes because it is sitting on a fault line is a good example of a place to kiss your stuff goodbye. When you live near the water, it is going to flood at some point. If you live below sea level, same thing. You don't have to be smart to know what the weather is going to be like.  Why would you risk your children's lives living there, or risk losing your entire life's belongings?

It's really dumb. Your setting yourself up for major stress, and heartache.

Anyway, I'm truly bummed out by the news as usual. Watching my species work hard to clean up a mess that could have been avoided.... (just don't live there!)

So here is something positive.

Ron is currently outside guarding little Mango. He refuses to leave his post and when the adult hens come over to peck at her he chases them away. He is a compassionate cat. That's an oxymoron. Felines are horrible killing machines. Not Ron though... he is like a sheep dog.

Some more good news?

Giselle my project Thoroughbred horse had her first adjustment from a chiropractor and got some acupuncture. The vet noticed that she had a tattoo from her racing days. I looked up the tattoo and found out that Giselle's name was Miss Bobbie Socks. She was born in Oklahoma on St Patty's Day. She won two races, and had 16 starts. We even found a You Tube video of a lady riding her in their backyard.

I rode her last night for the first time since the adjustment. She stood on the cross ties, she was much more calm. But... she still hates me on her back, and bucks at the canter. So, she basically just hates people on her back. I think she was hurt by humans... and does not want us monkeying around on her.

So it was a happy moment to see her finally relax on the cross ties... but very disappointing to see that she still sucks to ride.
However! Raven also sucked the big one, and one day she just turned a corner and is now a saint. I can only hope for Giselle's sake that once she builds more muscle and trust we can dance.

AND one more thing to celebrate while my TV exhausts terrible news our way....
Watts is almost completely potty trained! He poops and pees on the potty!

The news sucks. I'm thinking of getting rid of the Internet and TV. I don't know how I would write to this blog though....

And with that I have to go because Wattsies little world has come to a skidding halt because he can not... I say CAN NOT get his socks on by himself.

I wish I could throw a tantrum over socks... oh to be two.

Ron watches over Mango because he's a sheep dog.

Sure they are cute... but.

Tonight I am going to be teaching a group lesson of about 6 girls ages 10-12. I am a little nervous... not to teach the lesson but to leave my boys at 4:15. My neighbor is going to come over and take care of them. I trust her and know she will do a great job but it's more the fact that my two boys turn into  terrible monsters around this time. I really hope they behave themselves.

I miss the days when I could just go to the barn and stay for as long as I wanted. I could talk, groom, ride and clean my tack after. Who knows, I could even stroll over to the bar with some friends and have a drink and talk horses. Those were the days.

Now a days,  I have a hot dinner ready and waiting for my husband. The kids are fed, changed, burped and ready for their bath. The house is as clean as I can make it while the trolls are up. I dash to the barn, rush around, clean, tack and get on the horse only to stomp around in a muddy, cold, dark ring.... untack my dirty saddle, hang up my dirty bridle, groom the horse and run back home.

It's a constant rush. I try to be gone no longer then two hours. The boys are normally bathed and put into bed... the hubster has cleaned up the remaining mess in the house and cleaned up the kitchen. I could stay at the barn longer I suppose... but I'm rushing home to see my husband who I barely said two words to before rushing out the house. He needs me, I know it, even though he says I smell like meat and cheese.

I don't know how working women do it. How do you find time to be with your husband and kids? I spend all day with my kids, and can't wait to leave the house for a moment. I feel horribly guilty that I am happy for a split second. I can't relax. I just miss the days when I could just grab my purse and go out the door to anywhere. Do you know what a luxury it is to drive in the car without something in the back seat either screaming or asking you the same question over and over again?? My life completely revolves around three other people... and I come in dead last.

They say kids grow up too fast. I can not wait for mine to go to pre-school!!! I appreciate how cute they are, and how they love me and need me now... but I refuse to forget how much of myself I give to them on a daily basis. They are worth it of course.. or are we supposed to say that? My kids are cute, but little monsters. I almost wish they were ugly so I could hate them a little. You can't hate my kids... though. You just can't. I'm not making this sound good.

 Currently, Watts is outside feeding bread to the chickens, he has eaten all the bread himself and is pushing his nose up against the window and asking for more. He also has just taken the diaper bags that are sitting outside and thrown them in the chicken coop, hoping they hit one of the chicks, he laughs maniacally. He is now throwing rocks at Ron the cat, laughing so hard that he has fallen over in some mud. He got bored of that and is now chasing the chickens around with a lacrosse stick. Meanwhile, Jbone is crawling around eating the cat who was trying to get away earlier from Watts. His mouth is full of cat hair, he doesn't give a shit.  Ron knows what I'm talking about, he spends just as much time trying to "relax".  I rest my case.
There is a lot going on. And you! You get to sit there and read this blog. I hate you... and your time.

Watts outside,  destroying things that are nice and happy. 

James sucking on Ron's fur coat. 

Jbone... mouth full of hair. What a ramrod.