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Chapter 35. Daniel -- The Street Tough Bodega Cat.
During the previous three years, I had rescued and placed many cats from the 109th Street junk lot and the abandoned building on 108th Street. One of the residents on 109th Street helped in the effort, fostering a number of cats and kittens along the way. Janeen Tyler was a young and very attractive white girl living in Harlem. She worked as a stripper at night and studied Judo during the day. She had bright red hair and was extremely physically fit. No one dared mess with her!
On this particular Spring morning in 1995, I stopped by Janeen's apartment on 109th Street to give her some medicine for two kittens she was fostering. As I left Janeen's house, I noticed a very beat-up, filthy white cat walking under parked cars across the street. He was heading in the direction of the bodega on the corner. It was the same cat I had tried to get from the store owners a couple of months before!
My "Sherpa Bag" slung over my shoulder, I crossed the street and slowly approached the grungy tom cat, cooing softly. "Here kitty!"
As social and people friendly as his girlfriend and daughter, (Isabelle and Joanne), the flea-ridden feline walked right up to me with tail in the air. He rubbed against me, purring loudly. He had old scars and new scratches all over him. Most likely from cat fights, I thought. This was one street tough cat who looked like he'd been in many territorial battles over the years.
Despite the store's employees telling me months before, they wanted to keep the dingy cat "for the mice," I opened my Sherpa bag and slipped the filthy white cat inside. He went in, purring loudly with little struggle.
I walked to my vet's office on East 118th Street. "Another one for you, Sabina," I said to Dr. Peterson's wife and assistant as I walked into the office. "He's the male cat from the bodega on 109th Street. Pretty beat up and dirty." "You need the usual, Patty?" Sabina said with a smile. "Neuter, testing, deworming and shots?" "Yes, and some treatment for the fleas," I answered. "He's a mess. Really smells too. Ohhh, that tom cat urine!"
The next day, Sabina called to inform me that the cat I had quickly named, "Daniel," was positive for FIV.
Great, I thought. "Well, I suppose that's no surprise, considering they left him outside to get into fights with other cats," I said.
"FIV" is short for Feline Immune Deficiency Virus. It is the feline equivalent of AIDS in humans. It is transmitted in cats through direct contact with blood and is mostly found in free roaming male cats, as they are the most likely to get into fights. Though cats with FIV can live many years with relatively few problems, they are more susceptible to infections. FIV cats can live with healthy cats provided they are not aggressive. However, most people with healthy cats are reluctant to take on an FIV cat as one cannot predict, prevent or necessarily control cat fights. I now had a problem.
"Well," I said to Sabina. "I don't have a foster for Daniel, so I will have to take my chances. I will try to keep him separated from the others."
Later that day, I went to Dr. Peterson's office to pick up Daniel. He smooched right up to me once again. "At least he's extremely friendly," Sabina said. "Hopefully, you can find a home for him without other cats."
I tried confining Daniel to the bathroom when I brought him to my 95th Street apartment. But, he was not happy being cooped up. He continually howled and violently scratched at the door. I then became concerned that neighbors might complain about the noise and reluctantly left Daniel out of the bathroom.
But, Daniel was extremely aggressive with other cats. No sooner was he out of the bathroom when he was stalking and jumping my neutered male cats. I was petrified of him drawing blood and had to put him in the bathroom repeatedly. It was not an easy situation.
I had Daniel several weeks when one day I got a call from a young man who lived up the block from me. He was looking for a friendly male cat to adopt. I told him about Daniel.
Jeff Roges came to see Daniel later that day and was immediately armored of the now cleaned up, good looking and extremely people-friendly feline. "Now, you understand that Daniel needs to forever be an indoor and only cat," I told Jeff. "Both for health and other reasons." "I only want one cat," Jeff assured me. "This one speaks to me. I'd like to adopt Daniel."
I was thrilled that Daniel was getting adopted. The past several weeks had been a particular hell with trying to keep Daniel in the bathroom and putting up with his loud protests. But, if I left him out, he was a threat to infect the other cats with FIV. It had been a very stressful, lose, lose situation.
Two years later, Jeff called one day to tell me he was getting married and moving out of New York. At first, I thought he was calling to ask me to take Daniel back. A shiver ran through me!
But, instead, Jeff asked where was a good place to get updates on Daniel's rabies and other shots. I was very pleased to hear how well Daniel was doing and extremely relieved that, yes, Jeff and his fiance were taking Daniel with them when they moved.
This was one cat that I would have been very hard pressed to have to take back.
The memory of Daniel's scratches on the bathroom door, his wailing protests and attacks on other cats were things I could never forget. Daniel had been one hell of a street tough Bodega cat, who now according to his adopter, was a total angel!