Spencer came into my life with great reluctance and a lot of fear in March 2021. I trapped him, his brother, and their mother on the Northside.
His mother, Helena Cassadine, was a shy little thing who was gorgeous. Stefano DiMera is a friendly, sweet cat with a ginormous personality that belies his teeny little squeak.
Spencer was always anxious, his big eyes looking intently at the goings on around him but lingering on the periphery. We moved him from the kitten room to the crate in our bedroom. His reserves began to crack. First, he met his true love, Kinzua. He follows him around like a puppy. He was very brave and often joined Kinzua on the bed, eventually allowing us to gently touch him just a little big.
The first night I returned home after being homeless for six months, he came into my bedroom and then darted away – a little sign that did my heart good.
Spencer divides his time between under my bed and in the attic. He pops up to say hello every once in awhile.
I talked with the vet, did some reading, and came up with a plan that’s still in motion. We increased the use of plug-in and spray pheromones. I use Prozac to deal with bullying and aggression. I added two more feeding stations. I spent more time in the attic where they hang.
The basement and attic were thoroughly cleaned and organized. The walls were washed along with all of the bedding. I added a cat tree to the attic and multiple elevated spaces.
Just this week, I finally obtained a futon so I can sit up there in comfort.
The big news however was his vet visit. Spencer hasn’t been to the vet since his TNR in 2021. We shushed him into the bathroom the night before where he was presented with his favorite Churu, laced with gabapentin. He didn’t touch it, just looked at me with those big eyes.
At six am, I got up and found Kinzua, depositing him in the room to provide some support. At eight, I removed Kinzua and refreshed the Churu which Spencer ate before I was out of the door. He let me touch his head, seeming more confused than afraid.
He was sitting the bathtub so I spontaneously plopped the crate there and in he went.
At the vet’s office they placed a pheromone basted towel over his crate. We had to wait about 30 minutes so he got a good dose. They asked me to remove him from the carrier. I wrapped the towel around him, lifting him with some difficulty because he’s a big boy not because he struggled.
It was the first time I had ever held him in my arms. But I handed him off the vet tech and took a step back. To my delight, he was able to be fully examined without any further sedation. They checked his teeth, gave him a mani-pedi, the works. He was pronounced to be in good health, and returned to his carrier.
Relief seems wholly inadequate to describe that moment. He was okay physical health wise, he was improving in his mental welfare. After we arrived at home, I set him free and assumed he would head to a hiding space for a well deserved nap.
Later that night, I was sitting on my bed with Kinzua watching TV. Up popped Spencer. I divided a Churu between them and just started petting, then stroking Spencer. Fully body caresses that release tense muscles. I rubbed his belly for the first time. He licked Churu off of my arm.
Sadly, my nanny cams went on the fritz so I haven’t been able to monitor him much.
When Tyler was assembling the futon, he said Spencer stayed on top of the cabinet observing carefully and, most important of all, not fleeing.
These are incremental steps, two feet forward and one back. I expect my spending more time with him in the attic will encourage him to spend more time in proximity to me. I’m hoping the same is true for Maylee.
Spencer has often been the scapegoat in a chaotic situation. That we have too many cats is true – as is the case with many former fosters/rescuers. Our vet brought it up until I called her and asked if she realized it sounded like we should get rid of the cats. She was horrified and quickly said that she did not intend that and wanted us to work with her to address the anxiety and stress the cats might experience. She promised she wouldn’t say it again without the context.
Spencer often spends time with the other cats. There’s none that he can’t be around. It is more the other cats’ moods – a bully is going to bully. We work with them, too.
It was our job to make it work, not decide to simply remove the perceived problem child. Because I was removed too and blamed for everything, I guess I related to Spencer.
He’s a fine cat. He’s in a safe, warm home with all of his needs met. His attic space has been thoroughly cleaned and improved for him. It is true he may never be a lap cat, but that’s out fault – we didn’t use the proper socialization tools with him. Or Maylee and Mamma Mia.
I’m not taking all the credit for Spencer’s evolution into more of a house cat. We were on that path in 2023 with similar tools. I’m glad we got back there/here.
We were really good foster parents to dozens of kittens with little training. There was no orientation, no ongoing training, and no support to address issues like “foster fails.” Just the relentless belief that “helping the cats” trumped supporting the human caretakers, a dereliction of duty that I see over and over again. There are too many cats and never enough humans. Taking care of the humans is critical.
It is one reason I emphasize that our pet food pantry supports human caretakers. Of course we value the critters, but we are here to support people who take on the work of caretaking.
This post originated to celebrate Spencer’s steps. Had he remained outside, I do not think he would still be alive. Now he has a chance to continue blossoming in a space that is safe.
If you’d like to help Spencer in particular, bit.ly/HelpLGBTQBlogger
If you’d like to help cat colonies and TNR work, click here.
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