Tag Archives: pet

Kedi Update No. 3

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Well, it’s official.  I have morphed into a Turkish Cat Lady (as opposed to Crazy Cat Lady).  I am thinking of getting myself some of those baggy village pants (which would be incredibly comfy I don’t doubt) and, if you are looking for me, I will be found walking around The Village being followed by stray cats (a la The Pied Piper) hoping that they will be brought into the inner sanctum.

The Turk and I still feed as many strays as we can but winter was harsh here in Mersin and we lost a few of our regulars (sadly that included Stanley) but now that spring has sprung we are overwhelmed with kittens and, honestly, I am not sure how we are going to continue to feed them all. DSC02147

Right now, in total, we have 19 kittens!  Yes that’s right.  A ridiculous number I know.  Most of them are terrified of us humans and won’t come near us but Mama being so domesticated all her kittens come running when we come downstairs each morning.

My Hurley Dog aka The Terminator is fascinated with the kittens but due to his desire to kill and maim we have to keep a close eye on his shenanigans because although I forgave him for killing the chicken I’m pretty sure I won’t forgive him for murdering a kitten.  The dog spends his day in the garden stalking the kittens and taking the occasional nip while the kittens spend their day hunting the dog and then running back to the undergrowth if he starts to chase them.  It works out well for all of them.

In the interim, the vet came the other night to check everyone out – well as many as he could catch anyway.  A few of the kittens appear to have fluey symptoms however they are still too young for medicine so we have to wait and hope that they pull through.  The vet has diarised coming to collect Mama for her to be de-sexed as well however the other cats all ran when they saw him so I think it might be up to The Turk to capture and deliver the last few mothers to him over the course of the next 5 weeks. Our hope is that we find homes for as many of the kittens as we can and, with the remaining mother’s de-sexed, we might be able to control the population (at least for now anyway).

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And for those of you wondering My Stairwell Cat, Evil, has now fully infiltrated our home.  If she is stealthy enough she might get to stay the night but generally, she arrives each morning and waits patiently at our front door.  She will then spend her day sitting on the terrace in the sunshine or on the couch where, as you can see, she makes herself very comfortable indeed.  After an evening meal, Evil will disappear into the night with My Kedi Cat for their nightly entertainment.  Seriously I have to wonder what these two get up to because they come home covered in dirt, cobwebs, caked in mud and, on occasion, a gluey substance that I have had to cut out of My Kedi Cat’s luscious long hair.

My life *sigh*

And just because kittens are so cute one more photo:

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Kedi Update No. 2

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It has been a while since I have mentioned the stray cats here in the village so I thought today I would give you an update on their welfare.

Last December I had managed to find homes for two of Nanu’s kittens.  Two little girls were lucky to have a home where they will be loved and cherished.  Or so I thought.  While Daughter and I were in Australia the two kittens who were now fully grown cats were abandoned back in our yard.  Not only were they abandoned, they were both pregnant and they were left to try and acclimatise in an environment that was completely foreign to them.  These were two house cats, completely domesticated and they have had a hell of a rough time fitting in with the other Village Kedi’s.  I was livid.  Both of them have now had their babies although only one has survived from each litter.  Meet Sheldon and Penny.  Daughter and I are fast running out of names for all these kediler.  Sheldon’s mum has disappeared but thankfully Penny’s mum took Sheldon as one of her own and fed him.  These are two of the sweetest little kittens that currently live in my yard and are scheduled be taken to the vet next week for their first round of shots.

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With The Turk now away Evil has wormed her way into our home.  This is a huge bonus for Evil as up until now she has been very welcome to live in our stairwell but entrance to the “promised land” has been off limits to her at The Turk’s insistence.  She is now spayed and has had her shots as well so welcome Evil, make yourself at home.  And she has.

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For those of you who have been wondering how the infamous Stanley has been faring (yes yet another story about Stanley) well he has taken up with the Rottweiler next door.  I assume it is because they both have no tail – kindred spirits and all that.  Regardless they love each other and it means that Stanley no longer craps in our stairwell as he can usually be found giving all his affection and time to Hercules.  My Hurley Dog finds Stanley a little overbearing. A little too much love, too much affection.  I love you.  I need you.  I miss you.  I love you.  If Stanley was human he would definitely be one of those stalker types.  He is just so full on with his affection!

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I continue to feed all the strays and, if possible, capture them for spaying.  It is a slow process.  Nanu has had another set of kittens (I have lost count as to how many kittens she has had over the years) although I am yet to find where this litter is hiding.  Pretty also had babies but I am certain they have all perished.  If I find no sign of her babies in the next few days I am going to grab Pretty and take her for spaying. She is generally a pretty unhealthy cat and I suspect there will be more to her visit to the vet than just spaying and some shots.

It is a never ending battle with these cats but I cannot abandon them.  It takes only a few lira a day out of my pocket to feed them and, although the spaying or vet bills do build up, I always reimburse the vet for his efforts (although sometimes he may have to wait a week or so for payment).  I cannot imagine how these girls (and Stanley being the only male of the group) would go without The Turk and I helping them.  Sadly I cannot help all the strays in the Village and it is not unusual to find the remains of cats and kittens (and dogs for that matter) on the side of the road.

Just a side note about the stray dog situation here in the Village.  There is usually one or two gangs of köpekler (dogs) that roam the streets here although I wonder if the Council have rounded them up as I have not seen any for a few weeks now.  I hope they have all been re-homed but realistically I suspect that this may not have been their outcome.

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Kedilar Update

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Owning a pet in Turkey has just become considerably more difficult thanks to new laws that have recently come into effect.  Before you can purchase an animal you are now required to undergo training on how to look after the animal and also prove that you have suitable accommodation and means to look after your new addition before the final sale can proceed.  Oh the law also says that if you have sex with an animal you go to gaol.  Fair call.

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I love the idea of this law however I cannot imagine the difficulty in policing the law (the training before purchase law not the sex law although I expect the sex law would be difficult to police also unless you were caught in the act so to speak).  Anyone who has been to Turkey is well aware of the number of strays that roam the streets in any city or town and frankly pet food is so expensive I cannot imagine the average family being able to afford the weekly food bill for their pet (I often baulk when I see the cost of Whiskers or Pal here in Mersin).

In the Village there is a huge number of stray cats, in fact I am starting to think that people are depositing their strays at our house knowing that they will be fed as the number of kittens just seems to keep growing.  The Turk is literally having a breakdown every time he does a head count.   We have taken 4 females so far to the vet to be de-sexed but with the addition of at least 8 kittens in the garden and general vicinity I expect we will need to make a few more trips before all the females are sorted.  The vet that we have been using has been incredibly generous with his time.  He originally saw Stanley when he broke his tail and again when he broke his leg *sigh* plus the 4 females being fixed and a handful of kittens for shots.  I asked him if he could try and find good homes for the kittens but alas he cannot as the new laws make it too difficult for anyone to purchase an animal through the “usual means”.  Of course this means that the black market trade will begin to boom for animals trafficking which is incredibly sad to say as there is absolutely no control over this.

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There are also a large number of stray dogs (sometimes 5-10 strays) who seem to congregate in the maydanoz (parsley) across the street each morning.  This little gang of four legged friends meet just before dawn and frolic together for a good 30-40 minutes before returning to their respective homes, parks, beach or wherever it is that these dogs live during the day.  My Hurley Dog goes crazy when he sees them but I am unsure whether he wants to join in or kill them all (Small Dog Syndrome and all that).  There are a few good souls that feed the dogs but dog strays do not seem to last very long around here.  I don’t know whether they move on or pass away but there seems to be a large turnover in the stray dogs around the village.

We feed the cats each evening a concoction which I have christened the “Kedi Mix”.  It contains our left over dinner (and possibly our neighbour’s left overs as well) along with cat biscuits and the odd sachet of cat meat.  If The Turk is feeling generous he will go to the fish markets and purchase a kilo of their cheapest fish for 1-2TL.  This “Kedi-Mix” usually lasts a couple of days before we need to make more.

The Turk with his "Kedi Mix"

The Turk with his “Kedi Mix”

With Daughter and I leaving in two weeks The Turk will continue to look after the Village Kedi’s including my favourite stray “Evil” and her baby “Baby Evil”.  Evil is My Kedi Cat’s BFF and has been living in the stairwell with her baby but last night she moved out and they have now taken up residence in the chilli plants in our garden.

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Baby Evil is still incredibly tiny but seems healthy enough.  She is starting to play and toddle around but is very unsteady on her feet.  Hopefully when we return she will be running around with the other kittens and strong enough to survive on her own.

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Double Barrel Post

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I woke quite early on Saturday morning – my nemesis has been cock-a-doo-a-doo-ing really, really early (yes my nemesis is my neighbour’s rooster).  I hate him.

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You might recall this post when My Hurley Dog took out one of his women, well I am quite sure that he holds me personally responsible for her assassination and he is now waking up even earlier to cock-a-doo-a-doo outside my window.  I hate him.

The only thing he is good for is a roast, or maybe fry up some pieces a-la KFC.  I hate him and I hate his women (of which there are many).

They cluck.  All day.  Cluck, cluck, cluck.  Clucking and cock-a-doo-a-doo-ing.  I hate them all.

A list of reasons to hate chickens:

They are dumb.  They eat everything including their own poop.  They are dumb.  They are ugly.  They smell bad.  They cannot even fly.  They are useless.  But they are pretty tasty.

I have suggested to My Hurley Dog that if the rooster gets into the garden he is to go for the jugular.  He doesn’t understand me but I know he will do it regardless.  He is like The Terminator without the accent.

The other part of my morning was taken up my My Kedi Cat’s bestie.  We have called him Evil (although by the end of this story you will know that ‘he’ is actually a ‘she’).  Evil was a wild little kitten when we first arrived 9 months ago.  He wouldn’t let you near him but through perseverance and a lot of luck I converted Evil into ‘my’ stray.  I always kept an eye out for him and he would always come running to me if he saw me in the street (actually all the Village Kedi’s do that. I am the Village Cat Lady) and, of course, he is my cat’s BFF.

Last Tuesday Evil was asleep in My Hurley Dog’s bed.  He seemed really dopey and quite sick.  I called him to the door to give him a little food and when he stood up there was blood running down his hind legs.  Worse still there was mucus (dare I call it a plug) on the bed.  Ewww.  I did not know what had happened but when I tried to examine him he ran off.  At this point I realised that Evil was in fact a ‘she’ and I expect that she was either in labour or had had a miscarriage.

Fast forward to Saturday morning and I poked my head out the window and saw Evil asleep in My Hurley Dog’s bed again with My Kedi Cat watching her intently.  She was a mess, the bed was a mess too but in the corner of the bed was a teeny, tiny little kitten.  Really tiny.  See, Evil did not look pregnant, even before the bloody incident of last Tuesday she did not look pregnant so to find this teeny, tiny kitten in the bed was quite a shock, particularly as this would indicate that she had been labour for 4 days.  This little guy or girl was quite a fighter though to have survived thus far.

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My Hurley Dog was a little put out by Evil dropping her bub in his bed so I transferred her and bub downstairs with a clean towel and box.  She’s turned out to be a good little mother too, very protective.

Finally and just because, here are some more photos of Nanu’s babies.  They are a bundle of crazy.

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Kittens make me happy.

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Animal Farm

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It’s been a while since I have given an update on the strays around our home.

As you know Stanley has been in the wars recently and unfortunately it has not improved for him.  He is still an extremely loving little cat but we have had to ban him from the stairwell as he seems to have lost control of his bowel.  The vet suggested cat nappies which is just ridiculous so he now is chased out of the stairwell whenever we see him.

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We had a number of female cats pregnant and I mentioned the birth of some kittens a couple of weeks back.  Unfortunately none of those kittens survived but Nanu (my mother-in-law’s favourite cat) also had kittens around the same time and her 5 little ginger fluff balls are now strong enough to run around the back of my in-law’s garden.  It seems that all the other cats that were pregnant have lost their babies or perhaps they are extremely well hidden however none of the mothers seem to have any engorged breasts (is that the right terminology?).  I am really not sure what’s going on.

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The Turk and I are now starting to capture the female cats and take them to the vet for fixing but Nanu will need to wait until her babies are a little older.  We will also take her babies to the vet for a check-up and shots.

I have noticed that a lot of the cats are sneezing and have runny eyes at the moment so I guess a cat flu is rapidly spreading amongst them.  This is a problem as My Kedi Cat has befriended most of the Village Kedi’s and spends his nights out cruising the çiftlikleri (farms) with his akardasla (friends).  His bestie is often found waiting for him on our terrace while he finishes dinner and they swagger off together into the night – classic.  Thankfully he had all his shots before he came to Turkey but I think it may be time for a check-up for him in the coming weeks.  Sorry My Kedi Cat.

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Finally My Hurley Dog caught a chicken yesterday.  Bloody thing somehow ended up in our garden and My Hurley Dog had caught it in an instant.  In the blink of an eye.  Daughter was screaming, I was screaming, The Turk was laughing (and screaming at the dog).  Daughter and I ran out of the garden, across the driveway and was halfway down the street before we came to a screeching halt.  The Turk grabbed My Hurley Dog, forcefully took the carcass off him (he was not giving it up without a fight) and carried it around to show us.  Bastard!

It didn’t end that badly for My Hurley Dog though as Akan (The Turk’s youngest brother) brought half a feking sheep home (including the head) so he scored all the cut offs.  He was one happy little dog last night.

In case you are wondering where my two fur-friends are right now I can tell you.  My Hurley Dog has just come back from a walk with my niece Nisa and My Kedi Cat came wandering in about an hour ago, ate some biscuits and crawled into bed.  Literally crawled into my bed and is under the covers – we won’t see him again until after 6 tonight.  The Turk says it’s like living with a petulant teenager because now that we have giving him his freedom he has reverted to his pre-Sydney personality – that bloody cat or TBC for short!

What on earth has Stanley been up to now?

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He has been at it again our Stanley.  This bloody cat appears to have used up another of his dokuz lives.  I found him, yet again, hidden away meowing at the top of his lungs, this time in our bodrum (basement).  What the bloody hell is wrong with him this time?  After a quick examination I could see he has broken little cat wrist.  This has got to be the clumsiest cat in the Village!

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I know how he did it too.  You may recall my brother in law Vito is building apartments that abut our home and all the Village Kediler have been climbing on the construction to gain access to our balcony.  They come sneaking into our house at all hours sending My Hurley Dog into a frenzied state leaving him dazed and confused (particularly if it is one of the cats he intensely dislikes).  I suspect Stanley was navigating across the construction work and without a tail to balance he has toppled over the side.

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Back to the vet for him today.  The Turk is going to be pissed – again.

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Oh No!

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Last night I woke at 1:30, rolled over and saw The Turk was missing from his usual spot.  I padded down the hallway to find him asleep in front of the television which was blasting a Turkish soap (no wonder I couldn’t sleep).  I switched off the television but left him there – bugger him for waking me up – and got back into bed.

Still sleep alluded me.  I could hear a puppy whimpering outside.  I got up again and opened my balcony door to investigate.  As expected the boy that lives over the stone fence has brought home yet another puppy.  In the past 4 weeks he has brought home 5 dogs.  His first effort was 3 puppies that cried all night and his mother no doubt made him get rid of them.  The second effort was a boxer dog – nice looking dog – fully grown.  It jumped the fence and disappeared sometime in the night.  This third effort is a German Shepherd puppy.  It cried most of the night and will no doubt jump the fence when he is older but perhaps the boy has learnt from his mistakes and will ensure the garden is secure.

Again I climbed back into bed.  I looked at the clock – now 3:00.  I must have dozed because I woke again at 4:15 to the distorted sounds of a cat in agony.  Holy crap!  I jumped up and spotted Kedi at the end of the bed.  He heard it too because he was standing ramrod straight trying to pinpoint the sound.  “Murroooeewwww”.  Bloody hell!  It sounded like it was dying.  I opened the back balcony door and looked over – nothing.  I went to the front balcony and looked over – nothing.  Crikey!

I was obviously making too much noise and I woke The Turk who growled at me and went to bed.  I was standing at the front door when I heard the sound again.  It was coming from right outside!  I learnt my lesson with the Village Kedi’s and I always make sure that the downstairs door is locked – no more sex in the stairwell thank you very much – but obviously one of them got past me.  Opening the door I find Stanley standing in the stairwell crying.  “Shush,” I whisper to him.  I ushered him down the stairs and out the front door.  He was a little put out and sat there with his back to me.  I shut the door and walked back upstairs when “Murroooeewwww” again.  Shit!  I ran up the stairs, past my front door to the roof.  Nothing up there but some boxes.  I stare at them.  Shit!  Shit!  Shit!

After a little investigation this is what I found –

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This little guy and another 4 like him along with mama hiding upstairs in a box.  Stanley must be the father as they all have similar gingery markings.  Obviously the loss of his tail did little to subdue his manhood.

The Turk is going to be pissed when he gets up.  Why?  The bloody cat had its litter in The Turk’s toolbox – he is going to lose his shit!  He is not a fan of the cats at the best of times but when he makes this discovery – yikes !

I think I might grab the dog and make a run for it.

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Thunder Struck

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A clap of thunder just tore through my quiet this morning followed by the irregular, staccato beat of a dozen heavy raindrops clattering on my rooftop.  Moments later the clouds unleashed an assault of such ferocity that I ran to the balcony to witness what I thought would surely be the end of the world as we know it.  Excessive rain.  Major thunderstorm. 

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It’s raining.  It’s pouring.  It’s still warm though.  I sat on my comfy day bed on my beautiful (and 10 weeks later finally completed) balcony and watch the storm pounding the village around me.  I am glad to see the rain too but my reason is a little more selfish.  I love the sound of rain.  I love the smell of rain as it clears away the dust.  I particularly love the smell of rain here as it lands on the mint crop across from my house.  The scent of mint wafts up to the balcony and makes everything smell of toothpaste minty freshness.

I sit with my cup of tea and my Hurley Dog sleeping next to me and enjoy the sounds and smell.  My Hurley Dog is dreaming I think because he growled in his sleep.  Maybe he is having a nightmare about the rain.  My love is his hate because when it rains it gets muddy – really, really muddy – and this means baths, lots of baths.

An Update on Stanley

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I thought you would all appreciate knowing how Stanley is.  Just to remind you Stanley is one of our Bahce Kediler (garden cats) and was hit by a car a couple of weeks ago.  The Turk whisked him off to the vet where his tail was, unfortunately, gangrene and was amputated.  Funnily enough this is our second cat that has had his tail amputated (although officially Stanley is not our cat – I have to make that clear as The Turk is back to his grumpy ways about me feeding all the strays around here).

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Many years ago I had a cat which was named “Jon Louis Scheftsik” or “Chevy” for short.  The motto “YOLO” or “You Only Live Once” explained this cat to a tee.  Chevy loved to sleep in the sunshine however he usually liked to do that in the middle of the road.  In the space of his 20-odd years he had been hit by a car at least four times, had tick poisoning on two separate occasions and generally caused more havoc than he was worth.  He did lose his tail though.  At first it was just the tip however the gangrene had spread too quickly so two operations and nearly $2,000 later the vet took the whole tail off.  He did not seem to mind however, he was still as silly as he was pre-loss of tail.  He died a couple of years back and, in case you are wondering, yes he was hit by a car.  Unfortunately I could not find a photo of him but he was a beautiful grey and white kitty with a spot on the end of his nose.

Anyway back to Stanley – he seems to have made a full recovery.  Well not a full recovery but is probably at about 70%.  I expect that he is still very sore.  He finished his course of antibiotics and we still spray the antiseptic onto his stitches but he is back to meowing at the top of his lungs.  He has, however, become a bit of a grumpy old troll.  Not with us mind you just with all the other Bahce Kediler and in particular the ones that favour Daughter and I.  It is clear that he has now taken ownership of our building.  Everything and everyone in the building falls under his domain.  If any of the other cats come within spitting distance of our building there is an all-mighty ruckus downstairs and one of us have to go and break them up.  The bloody cat will injure itself if he’s not careful.

Right now he is sitting on my welcome mat waiting for me to open the door.  Daughter keeps putting biscuits out there so I guess he will not be going anywhere anytime soon but that’s alright with me.  He is definitely a friendly little stray and even though he will not be allowed inside he is definitely welcome anytime.

Spit or Swallow?

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I have a friend named Millie who, along with her family, is lucky enough to be spending a year in Italy.  We are similar people Millie and I, in similar situations and, those who look at her blog, will see we too have similar styles (hello Confit theme).

I originally met Millie at a health centre in North Sydney.  We both took a Cardiolates class together which for me, as someone who hated exercising, I actually loved.  How could it be exercise when you were on a trampoline bouncing around to music?   Our kids also went to the same school so it was no surprise that we finally crossed paths.

Millie recently wrote a piece here about the darker side of Italy and it brought a big grin to my face when reading it. 

In short Millie has taken good issue with the fact that she is in the beautiful Tuscany countryside but spends most of her life with her head down dodging poop (canine) or vomit (human) on the streets.  Like I said I laughed out loud when I read this because in Turkey the pooping and spitting is rife (I have not yet spotted vomit thankfully). 

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The dog poop does my head in.  When I left Australia I brought 10 packets of doggy poop bags with me (I am ready for approximately 1000 poops by My Hurley Dog when on our frequent walks) however I find myself picking up not just my dog’s poop but the poop from strays as well as other dogs whose owners just ignore the fact that their dog is dropping their bundle out the front of my home.  It seems that the local strays have turned the little track that leads of our house into their toilet and every morning there is new and sometimes explosive doggy poop to wash away.  Daughter (who is reading over my shoulder) just pointed out to me that there is horse poop also on the track.  Horse poop is fine.  It is fertilizer.  It doesn’t even smell that bad and it is from a working horse not a stray dog.

Then there is the spitting.  I know it is a common practice in Asia and the Middle East and the Turks are well versed with the ideology of hocking up your lurgy and spitting it to the ground.  I accept that to them it is more appropriate to do this than to use a tissue (although I am at a loss as to why this is more appropriate) and I completely understand that some people have health issues and need to clear their passages but come on!  I really have no interest in watching a middle aged, portly Turkish man (or woman!) launch a grenade-like  green substance onto the street.  Even worse is when I watch a young man or a child spit as they pass.  I want to yell at them, “Don’t do it.  You are never going to get a girlfriend” but all these boys grow into men and, of course, the circle of spit continues.

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As I am typing this paragraph alone I can hear the builder’s next door working and I think I have heard at least 3 flying lurgies with such ferocity that they shook my windows.  Nice!  Daughter has just piped up with “Better out than in.”  I am thinking about sending her from the room.

I recall reading an article last year about a Professor travelling through Asia to study the cultural differences of spitting.  Well!  Imagine putting that on your resume. 

“Good day and nice to meet you.  I am Professor Blah Blah and this class is Spitting 101.”

He sounds hot doesn’t he?

I am sorry to anyone who is offended by my giggle.  I mean no personal offence.  I understand it is cultural and a health issue at times, but please, I find myself dodging spit bombs as I walk down the street and wonder if I should be wearing a raincoat for protection.  Daughter final input to today’s blog is the suggestion that gumboots would be necessary for protection and, of course, and to match the raincoat.  Because style is important!

I will finish this by asking the question – Is Justin Bieber Turkish?  Biber?  Turkish word.  Spitting?  Hmmm.