Sandwich

Let’s start from the beginning. We were contacted in April about a tomcat whose feeder was moving. This is what we do—TNR, or rehab and adopt out street cats. Great.<br/><br/>Upon meeting this cat, he immediately freaked out and injured me. He was so scared. Almost immediately we had him neutered, and due to his behavior we figured he would be best as a TNR into a new colony where he could still be fed and managed. Unfortunately, when we picked him up, the vet informed us he was covered in wounds and abscesses and was FIV positive. FIV positive we can handle. Releasing a cat back into the wild who is getting his ass kicked on the daily? Not so ideal. So we gave him a shot at behavioral rehabilitation.<br/><br/>Days, weeks, months passed... He still scratched me, but nothing crazy. He just was hiding—all of the time. We revisited the idea of perhaps letting him be someone's mouser or barn cat. That was it... it was like he heard and understood that he would end up back outside. Days later, there he was, sitting in the middle of his bedroom, waiting for dinner. He didn't run and hide upon sight; he meowed and then continued—quite loudly—until his food bowl came down. Over the next few weeks, I would feed him straight from my hand. He didn't always love it; sometimes he would take a bite and go running. Every day was better.<br/><br/>And now, today, he is living amongst his foster cat and dog brothers and sisters and thriving. He eats with them, he rubs my legs for pets, he yells at me for dinner, he steals the food straight out of my mouth. He's a different cat than he was in April, even July...<br/><br/>I can't believe I'm saying this but... Meet Sandwich. He is fully healed, estimated at 3 years old, fully vaccinated, neutered, FeLV negative, FIV positive, and basically my best friend. Saying he's ready for adoption is devastating, but we need the space to save more. He is a beast—a thick hunk of a cat, a void in the abyss, always hungry, always down for head scratches, and will not start a fight (mostly because he knows he can't win). He is good with cats, dogs, and birds. He will not love you the first day, but winning him over is worth it, I promise.

Let’s start from the beginning. We were contacted in April about a tomcat whose feeder was moving. This is what we do—TNR, or rehab and adopt out street cats. Great.

Upon meeting this cat, he immediately freaked out and injured me. He was so scared. Almost immediately we had him neutered, and due to his behavior we figured he would be best as a TNR into a new colony where he could still be fed and managed. Unfortunately, when we picked him up, the vet informed us he was covered in wounds and abscesses and was FIV positive. FIV positive we can handle. Releasing a cat back into the wild who is getting his ass kicked on the daily? Not so ideal. So we gave him a shot at behavioral rehabilitation.

Days, weeks, months passed... He still scratched me, but nothing crazy. He just was hiding—all of the time. We revisited the idea of perhaps letting him be someone's mouser or barn cat. That was it... it was like he heard and understood that he would end up back outside. Days later, there he was, sitting in the middle

Let’s start from the beginning. We were contacted in April about a tomcat whose feeder was moving. This is what we do—TNR, or rehab and adopt out street cats. Great.

Upon meeting this cat, he immediately freaked out and injured me. He was so scared. Almost immediately we had him neutered, and due to his behavior we figured he would be best as a TNR into a new colony where he could still be fed and managed. Unfortunately, when we picked him up, the vet informed us he was covered in wounds and abscesses and was FIV positive. FIV positive we can handle. Releasing a cat back into the wild who is getting his ass kicked on the daily? Not so ideal. So we gave him a shot at behavioral rehabilitation.

Days, weeks, months passed... He still scratched me, but nothing crazy. He just was hiding—all of the time. We revisited the idea of perhaps letting him be someone's mouser or barn cat. That was it... it was like he heard and understood that he would end up back outside. Days later, there he was, sitting in the middle of his bedroom, waiting for dinner. He didn't run and hide upon sight; he meowed and then continued—quite loudly—until his food bowl came down. Over the next few weeks, I would feed him straight from my hand. He didn't always love it; sometimes he would take a bite and go running. Every day was better.

And now, today, he is living amongst his foster cat and dog brothers and sisters and th