Merlyn

Born:  March 7, 2001
Gender:  Female
Type:  Domestic Longhair
Coloring:  Black
Origin of Name:  Merlin the Magician
Nicknames:  Merly-Merly, Merle, Merle My Little Pearl of a Girl
Unique Habits/Characteristics:   Snaggletooth; shock of white fur on belly
Diseases/Illnesses:  None at present

Merlyn is our newest joyful addition to our family.  We never imagined we'd have seven cats, but here we are!

Merlyn showed up at our door one night in October 2001.  I leave a food dish and water bowl outside for any strays, ferals, or indoor/outdoor cats (and other critters) in the neighborhood.  Every night, I go outside and fill the cat dish with food, and empty the water bowl and fill it with fresh water.

So at 3:30 one morning, cat food in hand, I walked outside. Immediately, a little black kitten ran up to me and rubbed against my legs. “Well, hello there!” I said, and filled the bowl with food.  She hungrily gobbled up the food, growling and eyeing the cats staring at her from the other side of the window.  I crouched on the porch, freezing my feet, and watched her eat.  Somehow, I felt she belonged here, even though I had no intention whatsoever of adopting yet another furry one.

But I was not about to leave her outside.  Maybe she had a home, and I could find her people.  Or I could get her into a shelter.  One way or another, I was not leaving her outside, to the dangers of other cats, humans, cars, or whatever fate might await her.

When she was done eating, I picked her up and brought her inside, heading straight upstairs to the Kitty Rescue Room.  She was not amused, but at least tolerated this indignity and surprise.  After some quick rounding up of a clean litterbox, food and water, I went in to take a good look at our newest “guest”.

She was gorgeous.  A mess, yet gorgeous.  Amber-eyed, with a huge furry tail.  A beautiful princess of a cat.

I waited a week, checking out the local paper and the Pet FBI website to see if anyone had lost such a cat.  Nobody had.

I still was not sure about keeping this little girl, but I knew she needed some vet attention asap.  She had fleas, and mites, and who knew what all?  The verdict wasn't pretty:  she was full of fleas and ear mites and  two types of worms.  The treatments took awhile for the roundworms and the ear mites.  She was amazingly gentle and easy to handle, as I tortured her with ear meds and q-tips.  I sat in the Rescue Room, playing games on the computer, as she sat in my lap, kneading and suckling on my shirt or my arm, drooling and purring contentedly.

She still hadn't been tested, and I could not allow her to be anywhere around the other cats until she had been tested for FIV and feline leukemia.  Biting the bullet, I shelled out the bucks and held my breath as I waited for her test results.

Negative on both!  What a relief!

By now, it was becoming apparent that we wanted to keep her.  No one had claimed her, and she was now a healthy, rowdy, rambunctious little ball of fur.  But there was one more hurdle to get past before we could relax with our little one.

Spaying.  It's important.  Its necessary.  And for someone who hadn't had to have a female cat spayed since 1983, it was terrifying!  It was also an ordeal.  If you want to read the full story, click here:  http://www.blakjak.demon.co.uk/stx_sum4.htm.  In short, it was a bit of a nightmare.  The important part is that she made it through with flying colors (in spite of being “slightly” in heat at the time).

Next came several days of brain-busting fear.  What if she pulls a stitch?  What if she develops an infection?  Is the suture area red?  Is it swollen?  Arrrghhhh!

Now, the last time I had a cat spayed was Sonia.  She hid under the bed for three days, so worrying about her busting a stitch wasn't a major worry.  But this was Merlyn after all, not Sonia.

Less than 24 hours after her spay, Merlyn was acting like the revved-up kitten again.  I was sick with worry.  When it appeared she was licking the suture area, I totally panicked.

All right, I thought, we have got to get an e-collar on her.  Have you ever tried to get an e-collar on a cat who does not want one on?  Have you ever tried to keep an e-collar on a cat named Merlyn, whose apparent nickname was becoming Houdini?

We tried.  Once.  Twice.  Six times!   Finally, we tried Sonia's collar, the last cat I had had spayed.  Finally!  It stayed on!

For 24 hours.

We gave up.

A few days later, she looked nearly perfectly healed, and I finally let out a long sigh and held her tight and told her how much I loved her.  Now it was time to let her out amongst the Mongrel Hordes, aka Da Boyz.

For the first few days, we let her stay upstairs at night, but started bringing her downstairs earlier in the day, and keeping her out of “her room” most of the day.  This teeny little girl's hiss was constant and strong enough to keep all six boys well away from her, as they slunk away, and carefully kept their distance.  I was starting to wonder if Sonia had been reincarnated as Merlyn!

Merlyn is now a wonderful delight to us both, if not to all the boy-cats.  She has slowly made up with most of them, though, and I have seen her play the “Chase Me” game with Trill, Wolfie, Cosmo and Internet. Trill seems to be her favorite, as she's even let him eat some of her food on occasion.

Why Merlyn?  I had said that the next male cat I got, I was going to name Merlin, if he liked the name.  I like it, and think it's a great name for a cat.  After attracting seven male cats in a row, the furthest thing from my mind was that a female cat would show up.  For the heck of it, a couple of days after I brought her in, I tried it out on her.  To my astonishment, she responded.  And has ever since.  So I feminized the spelling to Merlyn, and Merlyn she is.

She's still new, so there aren't too many nicknames – yet!  Merly-Girly is one, Little Girl, Merly-Pearly, Merly-my-Pearly-of-a-Girly, and Merle or Merle-Merle are others.  So is “Little Sh*t” ;-)  I'm sure many more weird variations will make their way into my mind as time goes on.

Merlyn’s oddest feature is that she has a crooked tooth.  That's right, she's a true snaggle-puss.  The vet could not say whether trauma caused it, or she was born that way, but there it is, among her teeny little top teeth, that crooked one.  Somehow, I think it suits her.

Her other interesting characteristic is that, although she is medium- to long-haired black for the most part, she has a gorgeous shock of pure white fur on her belly.

As I've said elsewhere, some cats worship food, some affection, some play.  Merlyn worships at the Church of the Toys.  Of course, trying to teach her toys from non-toys is difficult at best.  She, of course, believes that everything not nailed down is a cat toy.  “No!  Merlyn’!  Not-toy!”  I yell, to no avail, as she knocks the pen off the table, or smacks the umbrella hanging from the hall tree, or bats another cat's tail.  And the real toys?  In the immortal words of Billy Jack, she . . . just . . . goes . . . BERSERK!  Leaping and batting and jumping, she needs to be reminded that there are six other cats here and they, too, get to play with the toys.

Her birthday is speculative, as are all the cats.  But, intrepid astrologer that I am, I have to take a guess, of course.  Although the vet put her age at a year, I think she's younger than that.  As tuned in and remarkably smart as she is, I think she may well be a Pisces, so I'm putting her birth at March 7, 2001.

I am not yet sure who she may be or how she arrived here.  The day she arrived, a good Internet friend's beloved pet duck, Daffodil, left this world.  I wonder sometimes if Daffodil, on his way to the Bridge, whispered to Merlyn our address.  I also wonder if she may be the reincarnation of Sonia, or Circe (she looks like Circe's twin), or even our beloved Mojo.  Time will probably tell, or maybe not.  What we do know is that we adore her, and her playful antics are making us laugh, and her energy is so strong and alive, a feeling we haven't had here since Mojo left us over three years ago.

Whoever she may or may not be, she is our Merlyn, and she is adored as is her due.  We're looking forward to many years to come with our little Snagglepuss.
 
 

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