I have wondered about that often myself, having adopted several cats
from "the pound" as well as abandoneds.  The most mysterious was the
Siamese male and female - they were so devoted to each other and people
it must've made giving them up difficult.  At the opposite end was Case,
thrown away in the woods - she had so many problems, throwing up
continuously (took a year of trying different meds to conrol it) and
conflicted attitudes towards people being the worst parts.  She's doing
pretty well now.

Max was brought in for an urinary tract problem and, when the vet told
them the cost, they said put him down.  The vet did the op then looked
for an adopter.  In Max's case he was a total twitch (in fact that was
the name I gave him) when I got him and I surmised he was formerly in a
very dynamic household, like abusive kids maybe.  He never became a
lapcat but he did become very poised and a wonderful companion.

--
"The web has got me caught.  I'd rather have the blues than what I've
got."  <via Nat King Cole

As for Amber, I only know that he had been living out of garbage cans
until he got in the backyard of a friend of mine. She rescued him from
her dogs and brought him to me. He had a cold and was very thin and
about 10 months old.(He is 11years now) I reckon he was dumped in the
country when he got old enough to spray. He was friendly and not even
scared of my dog, who became his best friend.

Robin just showed up here one day last Sept. He had been neutered only
a short time as he still had the scab. I reckon at the time he was 9
months. He was in good condition and was very friendly and likes dogs.
So someone gave him a loving home and good care. But he still tries to
spray. Maybe the former owner thought something was still coming out
and that was why he was dumped. Or maybe he got lost. We checked
around for a week for a lost cat; but there was none.

Sheba and her siblings and mother were left in a house while the owner
went on a two week vacation. She had ordered plumbing repairs while
she was gone. One of the plumbers was a friend of mine. After several
days the cats had dumped the water and scattered the food and the
litter pan was full and poop was elsewhere in the house. The plumbers
took the cats away. When the lady got back she was irate; but the
plumbers were adamant about not giving the cats back. Sheba was about
3 months old then and is now 13 years.

Djoser belonged to an elderly man in the country. He had to struggle
for a meal and safety against a feral tom and the neighbor's dogs and
tomcat. The the neighbor's loudmouthed boyfriend got mad at Djoser
sneaking into his house to get a bite of his cat's food, who was over
at Djoser's house. So the man grabbed Djoser and took him way off into
the country and dumped him...in December. he made it back home in a
month with a few touches of frostbite and a lot of hunger. At home the
competition for food and safety was worse than ever, Soon after I took
him home with me...after a certain important stop at the vet, of
course! Djoser did not know how to play; but Amber eventually taught
him. But it took him months to realize the automatic food dispenser
was never going empty and there was no competition for food and no one
was going to fight him and no human was going to take him for a
one-way trip again. He was a year and a half when i took him home. He
is now 11.

--
CATherine

<snip>

Glad he found a home with you, but it still p*sses me off that his
people do that. But, like yousaid, they could have done a lot worse
than leaving him where he'd be found and given the chance to find a
home. What really burns me up is the ones who abondon their pet where
they have little or no chance. A few years ago I drove a tractor
cutting grass along the right of ways along county road, and it seems
an all too common practice to dump animals near houses in the country
(sound familiar, Sherry?)

As for my current three masters, I have no idea about Little Bit's
history. She wasn't wild when she found me, but had was awfully skinny
(and pregnant). Rocky WAS wild, a true feral who wanted nothing to do
with humans. Vet estimated he was about 6-8 years old before I was
able to catch and haul him in the first time. It took a long time for
him to get to where he is. As for Sammy, I know exactly what her
history is, I witnessed her birth when LB had her litter.

(snip)

Stinky was found on the subway tracks in a subway station in upper
Manhattan.  A kind man jumped down, coaxed Stinky to him, brought him
back up, and I put him in my canvas tote bag and took him home.  Then
right to the vet for worming, etc.  Poor baby was very wormy, and had
a rhino infection.  The vet said he was about six months old, so he
was neutered as soon as the infection cleared up.  He charmed everyone
there.  When I came to get him after his operation, the tech lady
said, "Oh, him-- we all love him!!  He's the sweetest little fella."

He was sweet, trusting and friendly from the beginning.  There are
feral cats living in the subway tunnels, but they are just that,
feral.  I don't think he was born down there, or he would have run
away. He was obviously not afraid of people, although maybe he should
have been.  I'm afraid it was that trusting nature that landed him on
that subway track, the victim of some sick person.  

That was thirteen years ago.  I don't really like to think about how I
found him.. It seems very unreal to me now.  It was clear from the
very beginning  that he was a people cat, who belonged in a home with
people, that he was meant to be somebody's companion, and spoiled
little darling.  The way I found him makes no sense, but there you go.

Theresa
My Blog: http://www.humanitas.blogspot.com
alt.tv.frasier FAQ: http://www.im-listening.net/FAQ/

Yes, I do sometimes wonder what my cats' lives were like, and also if they
remember it.  From what little I do know, I *hope* (in some circumstances)
that they do not have a memory of "those days."  First, think of Duffy.  He
is blind, and I have already written about him many times -- so, it should
not come as news to this group that he is an incredible, wonderful, charming
little guy and can do almost anything that a sighted cat can do.
Nevertheless, he had previously been adopted from the same shelter where I
found him.  The woman who adopted him kept him for *2 years,* then returned
him to the shelter (a *kill* shelter where they normally keep cats for 2
weeks).  She said that he is "a wonderful cat" (which he definitely is) but
that "he found a way to get to her pet birds and had killed one" -- and,
more remarkable, that he was "training her sighted to cat to get to the
birds"!  What incredible junk!  Luckily, the shelter staff did their very
best to keep Duffy alive.  He had been there for several months when I saw
his picture on Petfinder.  He was thin, scruffy, and looked like a little
old man (but was later estimated to be between 3 and 5 years old).  I can't
believe my good luck (and his) that he was still alive, and I do sometimes
wonder about what kind of monster would do that to such an exceptionally
loving and well-behaved little guy.

Then there's Holly.  I am going to post a message about her in a couple of
days because June 1 will be her 9th birthday.  In brief, she was "created"
by a breeder who mixed an Oriental Shorthair and a Persian because she had
an idea about a specific type of cat that she wanted to develop.  Moreover,
this "new cat" had to be dusty gray, but Holly is black.  Because of that
color "defect" (in the idiot breeder's mind), Holly was going to be
destroyed.  A woman who worked in a local pet supply store convinced the
breeder to let her foster the cat and try to find a home for her -- and that
is where I came into the picture.  In this case, I know Holly would have had
good care from the foster mother, but I wonder what life was like for her
until that transition was made.

One more I will mention is Amber (RB).  Amber had been declawed on *all four
paws,* and it was really a butcher's job.  The people who had her talked
about how much they loved her, but they had a 13 month old child and were
expecting another; so they were going to be "compelled" to put Amber
outdoors (despite having no claws) if they couldn't find another home for
her.  They warned me when I went to look at her that it would probably take
a long time to get her to come out because she was so frightened of people
that she always went into hiding.  Incredibly, she ran across the room and
literally jumped into my lap as soon as I sat down!  Of course, she won me
over instantly.  I thought at first that the woman who described the
situation was trying to butter me up, but I soon found that Amber really was
frightened of everyone else (a situation that gradually changed, and she
began to love being petted by anyone in her vicinity).  It's no wonder she
was so frightened.  These people permitted their 13 month old son to pull
her around the room by the tail, so she had learned to disappear as far
under furniture as possible.  I think it's rather amazing that she never bit
him because they had already taken her only other means of defense (her
claws).  They also said she "wouldn't eat much," and she only weighed 4.5
pounds when I adopted her.  That, too, changed quickly; and she became a
gorgeous, loving cat.  Again, I think of people like that and find it
unbelievable that they would call themselves "cat lovers" -- and, back to
your question, I used to wonder if Amber could remember those days (and
hoped not).  She lived to be 16 years old (the last 3 with IBD and
progressive renal failure, but she was a little angel about accepting her
medical treatment).

MaryL
(take out the litter to reply)

Photos of Duffy and Holly:      >'o'<
http://tinyurl.com/8y54 (Introducing Duffy to Holly)
http://tinyurl.com/8y56 (Duffy and Holly "settle in")

I don't know about Persia's past.  She was definitely a house-cat at some
point; she'd been spayed and front-declawed.

She showed up at my back door on January 3rd, 2001.  She was yowling to be
let inside.  I know she didn't live here before since I'd been living here
nearly 4 years and she was only around 3 years old.  I admit, I tried to
shoo her away.  She wouldn't listen to me.  Kept coming back.  As the sun
set the temps dropped into the 20 F degree area and I couldn't stand the
thought of her just sitting out there.  I opened the door.  She cautiously
entered and checked out the digs.

That night she crept up on the bed, purring loudly and rather distressedly.
She slept on the pillow over my head.

I took pictures of her, printed and hung out flyers around the neighborhood;
canvassed the area vets and shelters.  No one knew where she came from.  The
apartment manager thought perhaps someone had moved out and left her there
so she just sort of picked me to be her meowmie.

Now she sleeps curled up in the crook of my waste with her head resting on
my hip and she's soooo sweet.  Big loss, the people who left her.  I've got
a lovely loving cat who is now about 5 years old.

Jill

I think your last line says it all, but I, too, wonder about mine.

Internet is the only shelter adoptee, and I know he was removed from
an abuse/neglect situation where he lived with other cats and dogs.
He was terrified of brooms, and always ducked and closed his eyes when
I tried to pet him on top of his head.  Took lots of work to get him
over his fears.

Cosmo we think was in a household where perhaps he, or someone in it,
was abused.  He gets upset and meows at raised voices, and is afraid
of loud music, as well as thunder.  He also took awhile to understand
that it was okay to get up on the furniture, so we think he wasn't
allowed to wherever he was before.

Sabra I think either got lost or was dumped when they found out he had
asthma and couldn't/wouldn't take care of the medical problem.

Trill and Merlyn I have no idea.  I think they were just owned by
idiots and dumped when they were no longer convenient and got old
enough to spray/go into heat.

Brando, the former feral, I really wonder about.  I think he was owned
by someone before, and I have a feeling his owner died, and no one
else in the family wanted to take him in, so he was dumped and became
feral.  When I look at him, I can see him as a kitten, and he had to
be the most adorable little thing back then!

Ginger-lyn

I guess I'm lucky. I know my cats histories. All of my cats were once wanted
then unwanted. One became unwanted when he clawed the furniture and the persons
other cats. Another was unwanted when she got pregnant with kittens. Another
was unwanted because he sprayed. Here are their previous histories.
http://www.mary.cc/boots/history.htm
http://www.mary.cc/patches/history.htm
http://www.mary.cc/mimi/

I wonder about this a lot actually because I often think to myself how
lucky we are to have Oliver.  My husband was walking our two retrievers
when the dogs insisted on taking a right instead of their normal left
when they got to the corner.  Like they just knew they had a date with
destiny.  :-)  They were walking down a busy street when this teeny tiny
kitten popped out of the bushes and started rubbing against the dogs.
The kitten was probably 10 or 11 weeks old and weighed less than 3
pounds.  He was starving, dirty (looked like motor oil on the top of his
head) and he had what looked like peck marks on the top of his head.
From the moment we got him home he was constantly on someone.  Sitting
on my shoulder, sleeping on the dogs, purring in my husbands lap.  It
seemed like this little love bug must have been someone's kitten because
he loved both dogs and adults but we did search and no one came forward
to claim him.  He was terrified of kids and autos so I don't know if
some kids mistreated him or if the motor oil and scabs on his head came
from a close encounter with a car...He had one or two fleas but he
didn't have worms.  There were two other kittens in the area that were
known to be from a abandoned mother cat but those kittens stuck together
so I don't know if they were Oliver's siblings.

What I think about the most, tho, is if he wasn't feral how someone
could have either dumped him or lost him.  He is so loving.  If someone
lost him how come they didn't move heaven and earth to get him back?  I
would have.  How could someone dump such a precious little soul?  I know
people do but I will never understand.

I have been reading  the wonderful stories about your masters.

All of my three were taken in by me as kittens so not much of a
previous history there
.
My first one, Figaro,  was found at a loading dock where I used to
work by a friend of mine, Her husband asked her to find it a home.
That was three years ago.  How he got there I don't know.  I am just
glad that my friend found him and got us together.
Not much of a history there.

My second one came as a companion for Figaro.  Tito(his name) came
from a friend's cat who had kittens.
Introductions did not go well at first. I never knew that a cat could
growl so loud!
They are buds now

The third one was found under my front stoop along with his two
sisters,  who I  took to vet for initial checkup...etc and then found
homes for.
They were probably placed there by the Mother Cat and she never
returned.
He was the last one I caught. At $65.00 a pop for the vet check-up and
first round of shots I decided to keep him.

I am glad that I have them all, or should I say, that I am glad that
they have me

- Hilden

This thread has got me alternately teary-happy and cranky-mad-as-hell when I
read about how our dear kitties lived before they came to their forever
homes with us.  What is wrong with people???

I wonder about Otis since he was born in January in Calgary.  Cold.  He was
found de-hydrated and stray in March, which can still be savagely cold.  On
his first day out at the shelter, Fred and I came in and Otis snagged me
with a claw through the cage and the rest is history.  We had to wait three
days to see if someone claimed him.  Three very long days.  I can imagine
that Otis was a PITA to whoever had him before.  He's been fearless and
attention seeking since then.  He must have known he needed people with
perseverance and patience to live with him :D

And Chester?  That Angel?  He was a surrender to the shelter and I wonder
why on earth?  He is the sweetest, most charming, composed cat I've ever
met.  We picked him out on his last day.  I mean, a couple hours later, he'd
have been killed.  The enormity of that ...   He's still terrified of brooms
and vacuums and cautious with the vast majority of people.  He will walk
right up to a select few newcomers.

Susan M
Otis and Chester
hugging them tightly