Trill

Born:  February 1, 1997
Gender:  Male
Type:  Domestic Shorthair
Coloring:  Black
Origin of Name:  The trilling sound he makes; Star Trek:  Next Generation
Nicknames:  Trill-Trill, Trilly, Trilly-Bird, Trilly-Willy, Trilly-Willy-Hillbilly
Unique Habits/Characteristics:   Lips & a goatee; licks feet
Diseases/Illnesses:  constipation

Trill has to be the strangest little alien kitty I've ever had.  Well, that's what my husband and I think, at least.  Either he is an alien cat, or an escapee from a university lab experiment!

Trill has lips.  And a goatee.  Seriously!  I have never seen a cat that looks like this.  He also makes a bizarre sound that sounds very much like an elephant.  To say he's strange is an understatement.

Trill came into our lives in 1997, right before Halloween.  He's about 99% black.  I had been seeing him out on the street for weeks, and a neighbor had seen him for several weeks before I did.  A black cat, even if not 100% black, on the streets around Halloween can be a target for idiotic kids and Satanic-wanna-bes.  I was terribly concerned about this little guy.

Near the end of October, kids in the neighborhood went around knocking on doors to try to find if he belonged anywhere.  My husband woke me up and told me they had him, as I had told him of my concerns about this little guy.  I got up and found the kids, but the cat had escaped from their arms by that point.  Nobody in the neighborhood had claimed him in their door-to-door search.

I instinctively knew where he was.  I walked there.  There he was.  Very friendly, he came up to me easily.  I knew I *had* to at least get him off the streets for now.  We had four cats; I didn't think we could deal with five in an apartment or financially.  But I thought I could at least take him to the Humane Society.  He was young, appeared to be reasonably healthy; he should be adoptable, I thought.

I brought him in.  He saw the other four cats.  He went *insane*.  I took him up to the closed no-cats-allowed-room (except for strays and rescues).  He still was insane.  He hid under the guest bed.  He hissed.  He clawed.  He was too out there.

Sighing, we moved the bed, and I allowed myself to be scratched like crazy to take him back outside.  Obviously, he could not deal with this.  I did not know what else to do.  I was worried about him, but he obviously could not even deal with being in our place temporarily.

I took him back outside, reluctantly.  He was overjoyed and ran off.

The next day, it rained.  A lot.  The next day, it turned very cold.

Shortly after midnight the following day, Sabra started hissing at the window.  I looked out, and saw what I thought initially was Sabra's reflection in the closed window.  I realized that it wasn't Sabra; it was the little black cat, on the windowsill, meowing pitifully, saying "Let me in!  Let me in!"

I went out and got him.  No hisses, no scratches, no growls this time.

It was definitely the same strange-looking little cat.  But he'd been out in mostly good, summer weather.  Suddenly, he seemed to understand that cold and wet were coming, and he'd better find an indoor place to stay.

I put him in the Computer Room (which doubles as the Guest Room, and the Rescue Room, and the Stray Room . . .).  For days, he did little but sleep.  It took him awhile to eat much; he had to figure out that he didn't have to hoard food, that it would be provided regularly to him.  He sneezed, which worried me.

I tried to take him to the Humane Society.  We could not have five cats, I thought.  I had written the first four letters of my name on the form, when the woman at the HS said "He has ear mites.  He's not adoptable."  "What???" I asked.  "He's not adoptable," she repeated.  "He'll be put down."  "For *ear mites*???" I asked.  "That's easily treatable!"  "Well, we don't have the resources to deal with it," she responded.  "Plus, it's almost Halloween, and we won't adopt out black cats for two weeks before or two weeks after Halloween."  Well, that was definitely a good thing, and considering I had called them years before when they were on a local newscast right  before Halloween saying "Oooohhh, look at these cute black kittens, perfect to adopt in time for Halloween" and said "Do you have *any* idea what the hell you are doing?????"  I explained it to them.  I'm sure my phone call did not do it, but apparently enough other people got information that they changed their policy.  Good for them.

However, here I am with this weird little kitten with ear mites, that they are going to kill because they won't treat him for a simple, cheaply resolved, problem.  I walked out.  With Trill.  Nope, don't think so.

Tried my vet.  Nope.

Called friends.  Nope.

Tried Cat Welfare.  Nope.

By this time, we were getting attached to the weird little guy.  Cat Welfare did, after much clawing and screeching, tell me about the possibility of helping through a private fund.  If we could come up with $20 (which was a hardship then, and heck, still is) and agree to keep him, they would neuter him, give him basic shots, and clear up the ear mites and eye infection he also had clearly developed.  Had to fight for it, but at least Cat Welfare did come through.

Well, what was the big difference between four cats and five?  Why not?

We were very poor then (as now, although it's getting better), and the other guys had not had their vaccinations.  I didn't feel that I could let the little new guy out until all of that got done.  Cat Welfare again helped out, by telling me about a low-cost vaccination program at local pet stores.  We didn't pay our gas bill that month, but we got the other four guys all vaccinated.  And Trill separately.

About the time the vaccinations kicked in, it was obvious Trill was hitting sexual maturity and needed neutering, which Cat Welfare required for the help for everything else (which is an excellent idea).  I think we let him out two days to meet the other kitties, before he again had to be confined (for another week) after his neutering.

I picked him up 12 hours after his neutering.  He was *so* glad to see me, and just couldn't get enough of petting and reassurance on the way home.  When we got there, he was still a little shaky from the anesthetic, but was trying to play almost immediately!

I watched and checked him for six days, and he was doing so well, I ignored the vet's advice to keep him up there for seven days, and finally let him out.  He was *deliriously* happy.  He and Mojo had been playing "pawsies" under the door for weeks, so they knew each other.  Internet wanted to greet him, too, so he already had two friends waiting for him.

I named him Trill as a temporary name, but it stuck.  He is *very* talkative, and makes that trilling sound a lot.  It was also a vague Star Trek joke.

He thinks Internet is his girlfriend.  He has been neutered, but I think he was *so* male it may not have quite totally taken effect.  When the vet asked "male or female" and I said "Oh, yeah, *definitely* male", the vet looked.  "Yep, *definitely* male!" he said.  Trill loves Internet, but I'm not quite sure in what way at this point!

Trill's nicknames include Trilly, Trilly-Bird, Trilly-Hillbilly (and all kinds of variations), and Trill-Trill.

Trill adores "Da Bird" also, and trills and elephant-sounds a lot when we get that out.

Trill was Mojo's buddy.  He and Mojo could play rough with each other, chase each other crazily up and down the stairs and through the apartment, and they both loved it.  After Mojo died, Trill mourned greatly.  He lost his best friend, and it was so obvious that he missed Mojo terribly.

After Mojo's death, Trill seemed to be trying to fill in for him, and started becoming much more affectionate.  Since then, he waits for my husband to come home, and runs to greet him.  He comes over more often to both of us, and wants petted.  He's learned how to do the "Aren't I cute???" thing, and does it regularly.

Trill is a strange little beastie, and we adore the little weirdo a great deal.
 

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