PUMBAA Domestic Short Hair Grand Rapids, MI

This dashing and debonair buff beauty gave me quite the runaround for months as he dined and then darted, hiding out in a hole in the cement foundation of my front porch. For weeks on end my son and I tired to no avail to coax him into our care, tempting him with treats, kibble and canned food, but the wary and worried tom cat (born in the spring of 2013) would have nothing to do with us. I kept telling him every time I caught sight of him hanging out in the shrubbery that he would have ‘no worries for the rest of his days’ if he would only allow me to take him in, but it wasn’t until he became ill from a horribly abscessed ear (cat fight) that he begrudgingly allowed me to lay my hands on him. Armed with broth packets, I laid down on my porch and hand fed him bits of shrimp and fish until I was finally able to gently reach out, scruff him and place him into an open carrier. Much to my surprise he didn’t fight me on this until I zipped the top shut, then all hell broke loose as he, well, tried to break loose. We had a discussion at that moment as I explained how things were going to be and he agreed to settle down for the car ride to the clinic so I could tend to his wounds; he let me reach my hand into the carrier and stroke his trembling body during that 15 minute trip that was so long overdue.

Once at the office Pumbaa and I got down to business: I anesthetized him in order to surgically drain his wounded left ear, neuter him, remove an engorged tick from his back, run labwork (he was anemic), implant his microchip, vaccinate him and treat for external and internal parasites (he was loaded with intestinal worms). Given how long he had been out and about fending for himself, it was no shock when he tested positive for FIV (Feline Immunodeficiency Virus) - it was a darn shame, but not unexpected as intact males are always getting themselves into trouble due to surging hormones. I kept my former porch kitty in my half-bath at home since it was Memorial Day weekend and I didn’t want him to feel abandoned if he spent too much time alone in a strange place, although the first two nights he spent quite a bit of time trying to get out the window that I had the foresight to reinforce with duct tape AND scratching at the paint on my door and windowsill. However, by day 3 Pumbaa was ready to accept head rubs and didn’t protest too much when I cleaned his draining abscess. He spent the first few days of the following week at the clinic with me, then once I was certain he wasn’t going to flip out due to sensory overload, I packed my boy up and sent him down to our sanctuary.

At first Pumbaa was afraid of his own shadow, preferring to hunker down in a cage (bottom door was left open so he could come and go as he desired), but after being on the receiving end of continuous cuddle sessions and tender handling, he soon became putty in the volunteers hands. In fact, the transformation from frightened and semi-feral to comfortable and laid-back was absolutely astonishing; not only does Pumbaa enjoy the spotlight now but he simply adores being the center of attention as verified by his striking supermodel pose for his photo op here! I could not be more proud of my emblazoned, bold boy who not only seeks out affection but brazenly demands it! Every single time I gaze upon his serene face I am thankful that he trusted me to care for him. Patience paid off as he is now living a life that suits him perfectly and I am sure is better than he ever could have imagined possible!