Introducing: Bucho

I have worked at the clinic for two and a half years. In that time, I have managed to say no to every cat that has come through in need of a home. I have said no to cute kittens, sad seniors, and just about everything in between. Sweet cats, mean cats, sick cats. Most have had safety nets in the form of rescue organizations, but some have not. One in particular had to be euthanized because there was no place for him. It haunted me.

I am not a cat person. I don't dislike cats by any stretch of the imagination. I had three cats at my first apartment in Hopewell. Melissa still has Runty. Having to give up my cats broke my heart, but it also made me realize that I don't have any desire to own a house cat. Of course, I love Bob to pieces, and Mike and I have discussed having friendly barn cats if we ever get a place of our own.

Still, it hasn't been hard to say no to cats. Especially since I worried that if I said yes to one, it would be the start of a vicious cycle and I'd end up with 20.

Last week, a cat named Bebucho came into the clinic. He was from Princeton. He was a well loved cat who belonged to a man named Jose. Unfortunately, Jose got dragged out of his house by federal marshals, and an un-neutered Bucho* wound up homeless.Luckily for Bucho, he's quite a character. He has been an outdoor cat all along, and has really buttered up the neighbors along the way. The whole neighborhood stepped in to take care of the charming little guy. The first thing they decided to do when Jose's girlfriend expressed zero interest in keeping the cat was to get him neutered, vaccinated, and tested.

*Bucho, by the way, was the name of the Mexican drug lord in Desperado. How appropriate.

And so Bucho came into the clinic last week. As he was getting signed in, I petted him in his carrier. He rubbed all over me and chatted my ear off.

I've been joking that I would take the right cat if it came along. It would have to be an adult male. It would have to be a brown tabby, preferably with some white. It had to be friendly, and it had to have no place else to go. It also had to be an outdoor-only cat. Mostly because Mike and I don't want a house cat, but also because I worry that Julio couldn't be trusted.

It was decided that Bucho would be euthanized if he tested positive for either FeLV or FIV. The neighborhood was having a hard enough time placing him. The chances of him testing positive were slim, and the decision was made pretty easily. In fact, that's why we have people make up their minds before we test the cat. It's easier to think straight before emotions are involved.

Imagine my horror when the SNAP test ran and the little blue dot appeared under FIV. My heart sank. Out of the two diseases, FIV is the more manageable and less contagious. It is only spread through mating or biting. A neutered male cat is not likely to do either. Cats can live happily for years with the disease.

Knowing that this cat had a bit of a fan club, I broke protocol and called the woman who had brought him in. I explained the risks of FIV, but also told her how it was different from leukemia. "Are you sure you want to put him down?" I asked. I could tell that she was heartbroken, but with her own indoor cats at home, what options did she have.

Bucho was still sedated and I gave the woman who brought him in a chance to make a few phone calls. Unfortunately, the verdict came back the same.
"We have no choice. He doesn't have a home. Nobody wants him. We have to put him to sleep..."
And then, as if I was having an out of body experience, the following words left my mouth, "O for god's sake... if you foot the bill, I will just take him." Shortly after that, I muttered, "Mike is going to kill me."

So I got him neutered, ear tipped, and vaccinated for everything possible, including FeLV. He woke up after surgery and went right back to being sweet, charming, and talkative.

I called Mike.
"Hi babe. I made a decision and you're going to be mad at me for it, but I want you to remember that I could make up some story about this. Instead, I'm choosing to be honest with you."
"We have a cat, don't we?"

Mike is such a good sport. When I thanked him for taking the news so well, he replied, "I'm not going to be mad at you for saving an animal's life." I love him with all I have.

Just like that, Bucho came home. Our landlord welcomed him onto the property, figuring he could be the barn's mouse-killer, and even offering to house him in his apartment for the first night. We live on a farm with no other cats, and Bucho sticks close by. Of course there are risks to living out here. He could get killed by a fox or hit by a car. He could run off and never come back. He could get grabbed by a neighbor's dog. He could get sick and perish. My thought, however, is that he wouldn't be here at all if we hadn't taken him.

Bucho settled right in. He jumped off the front porch, taunted the horses for a few minutes, ran along the top of the fence, and clambered up the pine tree to our back deck.The pine tree has become his favorite hang out spot, and there's a pretty good chance of seeing him up there at any given moment.

And just like that... I have two horses, a pony, two dogs, and a cat. To be fair, one of the horses is leaving soon... but no spoilers on that!