The Missing Pet Registry is Live!!

http://www.missingpetregistry.com

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You can help save lost pets by sending an email!

Email Peter Kelly and tell him that you support LOST Pet Signs in HRM!  Recently a client was asked to take her lost pets signs down by HRM.  Please tell the Mayor that this is NOT acceptable by sending him an email.

 Here is his email address :   kellyp@halifax.ca  every email counts! 

You may copy past the sample note below and add your name to the bottom if you wish to send the message to Mayor Kelly

Dear Mayor Kelly:

Please accept lost pet signs in HRM. They are often the only hope in recovering lost and vulnerable pets.

Our pets are beloved members of our families it is time the city understood this.

Look what showed up at the Kitty Buffet feeding station!  

Despite what some professionals will tell you, leaving food out to attract your lost kitty and leaving it unattended with a stealth camera is very dangerous, as it not only attracts coyotes, fishers, raccoons, aggressive cats, rats, dogs and a host of other predators. It creates a habitat that other critters, which are established in the area, will fight to defend.  This could result in your cat getting diseased, killed, beaten and chased farther away from home.

Let’s take the raccoon as an example:

This is the most common non-target animal that is attracted to the kitty buffet. (Or any pet food left outside)

Raccoons are known carriers of rabies, canine and feline distemper, listeriosis, encephalitis, trypanosomiasis, histoplasmosis, coccidiosis, toxoplasmosis, tularemia, tuberculosis, leptospirosis, roundworms, and mange. They are also infested with fleas, ticks, lice and mites which are known transmitters of disease. Children and pets are particularly at risk. They can also carry Aleutians disease which is a virus that affects other fur-bearing animals including cats. Currently there is no treatment or prevention for this viral disease.  Therefore you are putting your cat at vast risk by using the kitty buffet.

Because raccoons are nocturnal or night-time active animals populations are frequently underestimated because people seldom see them traveling during the daytime. Raccoons are common throughout North America from Canada to Panama.  Even a large city like Toronto has a huge population of raccoons. 

The only food that should be left out must be in a live humane trap. That way you can clean the trap and change the food and water. Lets bring them home safely.

 Vicky Vaughan www.petdetective.ca

Sources: Conover, Michael. Resolving Human—Wildlife Conflicts: The Science of Wildlife Damage

Maser, Chris. Mammals of the Pacific Northwest: From the Coast to the High Cascades. Corvalis: Oregon State University Press, 1998.

Verts, B. J., and Leslie N. Carraway. Land Mammals of Oregon. Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1998.

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Trapped Pets - It is that time of year! 

This is the time of year when we like to get out in the yard, and often that means that the shed and garage doors are left open for extended periods of time.  This gives our furry little buddies an opportunity to slip in unnoticed. Please check these areas for trapped pets, especially if you see LOST PET posters in your area. 

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ASSUMPTIONS OF NEGLECT AND ABANDONMENT

                    Why people keep your lost pet

                    That pet could be-  LOST NOT ABANDONED

By: Vicky Vaughan

When someone finds a lost pet and makes the assumption or is told that the pet was abandoned or abused, that pet and the grieving loved ones who lost the pet, lose all chance of getting their beloved pet home. I am shocked by the amount of “professionals” who will tell you that the pet you found was abandoned or abused with VERY little evidence to support what they are telling you.  When a pet is lost, it is in an environment where it will get very little food, water and shelter;  they may appear to be abused or neglected but they are NOT.  They are simply doing what they can to survive and sometimes they become injured, skittish, thin and dirty in the process. 

I worked a lost dog case last year where the dog was lost during a roll over accident.  Before I was called to the case, the owner left the dog’s kennel on the side of the road to provide a safe place for the dog to come to.  The local police department immediately began to receive calls that an evil person abandoned a dog along the highway in that area.  I was devastated by this because as an investigator, I know that when a person or rescue organization *thinks* a pet was abandoned or abused, they make NO effort to find the owner.  Instead they make an effort to “find a better home.” Luckily we were able to humanly trap the dog before a would be rescuer took the dog and kept it or “found a better home.”

I also worked a case where a dog was by a camp fire and ambers became airborne and hit the dog.  The poor dog was burned and he bolted into the woods.  He was recovered 6 weeks later by someone who though he was intentionally burnt by a cigarette, abandoned in the woods and left to starve to death.  This person took the ID tags off of the dog and did not contact the owner because he was convinced the dog was mistreated.  It took extensive effort to locate that dog, and I had a horrible time convincing the finder that the dog was not abandoned and abused.  Apparently his veterinarian said that the pet was abused.  A point that I like to make is that it takes an extensive investigation and countless witnesses to come to a conclusion that a child was abused…how on earth can a veterinarian know this with no eyewitness, no history or investigation?  The answer is that they cannot accurately determine this..they guess and when they are wrong the results are devastating to the pet and their people.

This past winter I worked a case where the cat had become trapped under cement steps.  We did not locate the cat during the initial investigation so we put up LOST CAT signs.  The cat was found 3 weeks later, very dirty, injured, thin; and because he was “indoor only” he had no collar on either.  Had it not been for the public awareness that my investigation caused, this cat could have VERY easily been mistaken for abandoned, neglected or feral. 

My point is to plead with all of you to think LOST not abandoned.  At least give the poor animal and an owner a chance! And when you are trying to find the owner please understand that some pets travel incredible distances; and some have been lost for months before they are found.   

Sadie

Located 5 months after she was lost, over 10 miles from home.  Special thanks to Tracy Stevens, she knew what to do!!!

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What you should know about your pet’s microchip (updated)

When I started out in the Pet Detective business I advised people to get their pet microchipped.  I still give that advice but now I give it with warning:  Have your pets chip checked during their annual visit to the veterinarian. Don’t count on it alone to return your pet should it wind up in the hands of Animal Control or a shelter. Along with the microchip, a good collar, readable current tags and a friendly, socialized pet will increase the chances of you getting your pet back. 

I’ve received countless questions about the affordable little chips that are so easily inserted under the skin of your beloved pet. Some of these questions lead me to do an investigation.  So I ordered a 2008 Universal Scanner.  This scanner reads, not just detects, microchips used in Canada, Europe and the United States. The scanner reads all microchips utilizing the 134 kHz, 125 kHz and 128 kHz radio frequencies, including those that previously could not be read by all U.S. scanners.  The 134 kHz chips are the ISO chips commonly used in Canada and Europe.   

I tested the chip reader to make sure it functioned properly. I then started with my dog and I could not get a reading "no chip detected" My heart almost stopped!  I proceeded to my cat where I was delighted that the chip was read very quickly, I got the same result from my other cat (my cats were very relaxed at the time).  I then went back to my dog and tried again…nothing.  Then I tried my puppy and it read "no chip detected".  I was beginning to feel sick! How could this happen? It was not until I moved along the side of my dog, by his ribs, that the chip was picked up. And in my puppy it was eventually detected from his chest, it was suppose to read from his shoulders.  It was very difficult to get a reading from my dogs, and the only reason I kept trying is because I knew they had the chips.  It lead me to wonder how hard an over worked shelter worker or someone at a busy veterinarian clinic would try. And what if my dog happened to be upset by the circumstances surrounding his trip to the shelter, Animal Control or vets office?  Surely the scent of all the other animals would have him excited.  Would these workers actually take the time necessary to find this by struggling with an excited pet?  Could I blame them if they didn’t find it? After all, I had great difficulty finding it under ideal circumstances.  

I have found that chips can be difficult to read.  Some microchip scanners don’t read or detect all types of microchips, chips can fail, migrate or those we rely on to read the chip may be far too overworked to take the necessary time to find a difficult to read chip. And, as came to shocking news to me, some cities and municipalities don’t scan the deceased pets that they find on public property, and that includes the side of the road. 

I need to stress the point that I still believe that microchips are a good choice.  Just have them tested on a regular basis and keep your pet’s collars in good condition with easy to read up-to-date tags. And if you move or change phone numbers make sure your microchip company has that current information. It could be what brings a lost pet back to a grieving owner.

If your pet is lost please make every effort to find your buddy.  I have posted tips under "search tips" on this website.

Keep Checking Shelters!   

Often when people find lost pets, especially small ones, they attempt to adopt them out to friends, through ads in the paper/internet or they keep them.  Unfortunately, these pets often wind up turned over to a shelter months after these “adoptions” take place.  This is largely due to the fact that the person who took the pet was not prepared for the realties of responsible pet ownership. When they are admitted to the shelter they are classified as owner surrender rather than LOST.   This is a good reason to have your pet microchipped and have that chip checked on a regular basis.

Remember that pet you found could be LOST not Abandoned  Placing found pet posters at the shelters, on poles and place ads in the paper/internet is a much better option. Don't forget to have the pet scanned for a microchip too. I have yet to find a vet clinic that charges any fee for scanning a microchip.

Remember that in 2007/ 2008 the Maritime Provinces had a couple of miraculous stories of dogs that were lost in the woods for months. And those included our very harsh winter months.  One was gone for 5 months and the other for 7 months. Their owners did not give up and their pets were found and returned to them, but had they been turned over to a shelter they likely would have been classified as stray, abused or neglected as apposed to LOST.  Again, I support the work of shelters and I have a lot of respect for the workers but let’s face it, our pets can’t talk so we are often left to speculate.  

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Here is a prime example of lovely woman who would not give up on her cat.  Vera, I am blessed to have shared this with you, and now we can share it with others in hopes that it will inspire them to KEEP LOOKING!

Vicky Vaughan

Here is Vera's true story of her cat who was missing for 7 weeks and 2 days! ....

 Lost in the Wild -  Skid the Siamese Cat 

Skid is a vocal, chocolate seal point Siamese cat we had for 15 years living in 

Whitby, Ontario. An indoor cat his whole life, declawed and neutered. Anyone

 who has had a Siamese knows they are “not just another cat”…He loved to 

talk all the time, interrupting our conversations and making his presence known 

every chance he got. Very loving and affectionate he would snuggle and cuddle 

all the time, purring loudly for time on end. He was our little furry human in the

 household…quite a character. We moved a year and ½ ago to north Pickering

 about 20 kms away, to a rural property with a neighbor on each side and then 

country roads with the odd house here and there. The properties backed onto 

the woods, grass in some places 4 to 5 ft in height, bulrushes, and trees, which 

have been there for years. At night you could see stars in the sky, but little in 

front of you even with a flashlight. Skid adjusted to the move,

 skittish at first but soon, dominated the house again.

On July 16th, 2007, 7:00 pm, my husband went out through the sliding doors 

to the back of the property and upon closing the door it didn’t quite close. 

When he realized the door was open slightly he went looking for Skid in the house. 

However, Skid was gone. He called my daughter and I right away and the 3 of us

 began to search everywhere around the property. We searched until midnight. 

The next morning July 17th, at 7am we continued the search calling Skid’s name, 

looking everywhere in the high grass, under fallen trees, grassy knolls, under cars, 

stairways, into the neighboring properties on each side…I was crying, fearful of 

where he might be out in the woods.. We were all so tired from walking all day

 long….My fears grew as the night approached. Where could he be? Why is he

 still hiding? Isn’t he hungry? I am shaking the kibble bag and this ALWAYS 

works…why isn’t he responding to it? Why don’t we hear him meow, being 

such a vocal cat? Was he so afraid he couldn’t meow? Was he just under our

 noses? Did we pass him somewhere? Will he come back tonight? 

Day 2: We asked the neighbor on each side to keep a look out for Skid. My 

husband cleared the bush between the properties to give us better access when 

searching and to hopefully help Skid see and find his way back. We did not think 

the noise of a weed eater or the cutting sounds of a machete might frighten 

Skid…we simply thought it best to clear as much brush to yield better results to

 find Skid sitting somewhere, hiding or sleeping.  We moved our search over a couple 

of property lines to a large alfalfa field, picking through the growth with a stick calling

 his name, without success, night was approaching it was dark becoming difficult to see, 

we were tired, confused and sad. Returning home we came upon an abandoned truck

 in the neighbor’s backyard and my husband looked under it and said “I think that’s

 him – look!” I looked and it was Skid huddled near the tire…I called his name but 

he didn’t move, he didn’t come towards me…this was unusual…he ALWAYS came

 to me when I called his name when he was in the house. I shook the kibble bag and

 he scampered from the spot. The grass being at least 3 ft high and “thick”it was hard 

to walk through -  my husband thrashed through the grass with a stick to follow Skid 

which only caused him to scamper further, most likely in fear not knowing what all the

 noise was about. This was 4:30pm July 17th and the last time we saw Skid. 

My birthday was the next day and I asked my family to defer it until we find Skid.

 I could not think about going out for dinner or celebrating my birthday until Skid 

returned.  We spent my birthday evening “out there” scouring the woods and trails, 

calling Skid’s name well into the night. I said we could celebrate my birthday on the

weekend when we find him

.

I was visibly upset, crying, scared and confused. I felt hopeless. How were we ever 

going to find him? My husband felt equally helpless, not knowing how to take this 

sadness away from me and unable to help any more than he was.

Day 3: I contacted the animal control in my area, let’s call it A and they took all of my

 information. I contacted the animal control out of my area, let’s call it B, who told me

 they don’t look after the town I live in, I should call A. I called back B the next day, 

said I was located in their area, then they “took my information”. 

I searched for help using the Internet, keywords infrared equipment, animal rescue, 

pet detective and came upon Vicky Vaughan. I asked her where she was located hoping

 it was in Ontario, needing and wanting her to be close in proximity to help in our search. 

Unfortunately for me, we were provinces apart. I cried, hopelessly unfamiliar with how 

to find a lost “inside” cat, out in the woods living in the country.  Vicky provided me with 

a host of tips to help in our search and compassionately communicated her sincerity and 

encouragement right away…saying “you are doing a wonderful job Vera”. Sobbing, 

I didn’t feel productive at all because nothing I was doing was bringing Skid back.

 I felt undeserving of Vicky’s kind words but so appreciated the positive reinforcement, 

which nudged me back up each time.

One Week Later: I contacted 4 area veterinary clinics and put flyers up on the 

country/concession road where we live.  Every day and night we continued searching 

– everywhere. We looked at all the man-made hideouts (trailers, cars, couches, window

, wells...you name it.). It felt like we are missing something...and yet we've been searching 

relentlessly since Tuesday when he was last spotted. I placed litter trails through the woods 

and property perimeters. I sprayed pheromone spray in areas close to the house and in the

 bush near our house. I set out a pair of old shoes and 3 pieces of my clothing on bushes 

low to the ground so he could find their scent. We set out a humane trap. We created a

hiding shelter for him in the back yard. It is a very rural area and the nighttime searches 

became more difficult as it was so dark and dense in the bush, the mosquitoes and crickets

 were too loud in unison we weren’t able to hear Skid’s movements if he happen to move,

 or the bell around his collar. I would look at 5am when it was quieter when day light could

 help me see and this would be Skid’s more “active time” early in the morning…maybe I 

would see him somewhere running or playing. I would place salmon or tuna along around 

the property and create fish trails to help guide Skid home. We would come home on our

 lunch hour, thinking he would be sleeping somewhere, which is what he would do most 

of the day when he was inside. We would return to work and then look again after dinner 

into the night, often in shifts. Because of the raccoons, squirrels and chipmunks in our midst 

we could not leave a “door slightly open” for Skid to enter the house on his own nor could 

we leave a bowl of food out…so we would have to look even harder when we were home 

in case he was close and wanted to return into the house. We caught many a raccoon in the

 cage but Skid never entered it. 

On the back porch, we put out a chair with his favorite blanket, would leave the light on

and a radio. Every morning, the water bowl and blanket were untouched, the light and radio 

would be turned off and I’d hope we might find him at lunchtime that day. When we

 didn’t find him at lunchtime, I hoped we would find him that night after dinner. 

All the area veterinary clinics had been contacted again and Skid’s information 

“recorded” in the book. Where I was able to send a photo and a flyer, I emailed it. 

Week 2: Some people kept saying “don’t worry, cats return to the house”. However, 

we were moving from the house on August 10th and I began to panic even more because 

what if he returns and we are not there anymore? My fears grew, 3,1/2 weeks of searching

 and moving day were coming up and Skid had not returned. Skid was still out there. Lost.

In my search for advise from others familiar with animal rescue, I was advised that a 

raccoon protecting her pups probably attacked Skid. I was distraught and broke

 down at the computer reading this advise. When I composed myself, I refused to

 believe this comment.

I discovered from speaking with others that more often than not, cats and raccoons

 do not bother each other, in fact my brother in law told me he has raccoons coming 

out of a culvert on his property every night and there are 3 cats who come around at 

the same time…This gave me hope. I continued to search, day, noon and night 

resetting traps, laminating new posters, and handing out new flyers into mailboxes.

 I had to do something. I could not do nothing. I felt Skid was out there but I just 

didn’t know where and could not give up searching that easily.

Week 3: In seeking additional tips and wisdom from animal rescuers - I was advised now

 that so much time had passed and considering where I lived, Skid had probably fallen prey

 to coyotes. I was devastated by such a commentary. I sobbed at my computer reading the 

words that came back to me. I was anguished, hopeless and when the tears stopped, I was 

angry. I refused to believe it.

Being the one who bonded with Skid the most, on an "expert’s" advise…I added the

 following to my daily routine -  spraying urine from a spray bottle in areas around the

 property and in the woods. 

We had to become familiar with cat behavior, as we only knew of Skid’s behavior inside

 the house – as a domestic, inside-all-the-time cat. Vicky provided information to help us

 understand how different a cat will be when outside the home, in particular when it is lost

 and outside of its territory. Other websites also provided information to help us understand 

behaviors. We identifiedSkid’s profile according to the data to help us think like him…what

 would he be doing right now after being gone for not days…but weeks!

At this point searching for Skid became part of our daily ritual. The flashlight, rain wear, 

walking shoes and kibble were stationed at the door for quick access…I would head 

out right away after dinner, then again later in the night and back up early the next

 morning before work to call his name and search the “spots”. It came to a point where 

the neighbor to the east said “he’s not here” - I suppose had enough of me invading 

their property routinely day and night…However, their property is where Skid was seen 

last weeks ago having all the likely hiding spots, abandoned cars, shed, trapped in a 

garage, box trailer. Although upset by his comment, I couldn’t retreat or take his property

 lines off of my search list …there was just too many places Skid could be and at this point, 

I wasn’t concerned with a neighbor being annoyed with me. If I found Skid, it was worth it. 

At one point I thought he might have Skid -  I became suspicious of his cavalier and

 not-so-helpful attitude and intensified my search, careful not to disturb them but 

routinely checking.

The weather during July and August was unbreathably hot, unbearable sometimes. 

I worried Skid would not find water in the thick of the woods around us. When it rained,

 I would go out and look under the man made structures, car, porches, rocks, fallen trees

 …as I figured he would need the shelter from the rain and be less likely out in the open. 

I would return, despondent and crying, waiting for the rain to stop and the next day to come.

I sent an “aerial view” of our property to those who would look at it, to give me tips…

seeing where we lived. The aerial view was daunting…all you could see was small dots

 representing our house and the neighbours…and the rest was green, treed, open space…

.This viewpoint reconfirmed the impossibilities of finding Skid or Skid finding his way

 back home…I would gaze at the aerial view and cry, wondering where he might be. 

It was like looking for a needle in a haystack. Although some of the high grass and

 bulrushes were cleared way, rainstorms and wind change the landscape again, knocking

a trees and branches down, any possible tracks disappear, the grass and trees continue to

 grow and get thicker as the summer days pass. It becomes more and more “lush” every day 

to the  point you cannot see far into the woods or the fields. Nature is working against us as

 it fills in the landscape with lush greenery. Many a time I found it hard to find my way back to

 the house as I had ventured out so far. I would stand there with my searching stick or the 

trap wondering where I should place it now…and just break down crying, leaning on the

 stick, anguished, calling Skid’s name, my face a mess with my runny nose and tears. I felt

 hopeless. My husband often would be on the look out and see me, come to me,

 hold me and guide me back to the house from my sad state of being.

Week 3 and ½…August 10, 2007. The day had come where we had to move from our

 house. The moving truck arrived and began taking boxes and furniture. I continued to look

 and watch around the property to see if Skid heard the noises and commotion and would

 come out from somewhere. Throughout the day, I changed the water dish for fresh water,

 sprayed the perimeters, monitored the cage, going back into the pathways and grassy

 knolls over and over. I was having a hard time realizing the truck was soon going to be

 leaving, and so were we, without Skid, without being there every day or afternoon or

 night at some point. We would be “gone”. Some people kept saying “cats come back 

to the house eventually”…I cried driving away, the thought of Skid returning to the house

 without someone being there

I decided …I’ll just have to come back every day or every other day at some point. My 

husband also intended to stay at the house until September 4th…and every night would

 turn on the outside lights and check / refill the traps with food. Every morning he would 

check the traps…just raccoons…and eventually, even the raccoons stopped coming and 

the cages were empty and untouched day after night, night after day.  I continued to 

make bigger posters and laminate them and replace the ones already on the Concession

 Road. 

I would intermittently check in with my Pendulum, and ask if Skid was “ok”. It would

 respond “yes”I knew he was out there. I would include Skid in my prayers, asking 

that he be kept “safe” and find his way home safely or ask if someone could return

 him home safely to us. I would focus on a thought and send it out there to Skid,

 saying “come on, fight back, find your way home”

Week 4, August 15th, 2007 – I continued to make “calls” in the midst of our commotion 

of moving and unpacking…I called Animal Control “B” AGAIN and was advised “someone” 

had FOUND a male, Siamese, declawed and neutered cat July 15th. This was 2 days before 

Skid was last seen but I reasoned in my mind, they had made an error…and called the lady 

who “found” this Siamese. She told me it was a Siamese but was definitely clawed and 

definitely not neutered…and was a young cat, not an older one. I thanked her, called

 animal control B to correct the “facts” and never thought of it again.

Week 5, August 20th, 2007 – I started thinking about this FOUND Siamese and wanted

 to see for myself if this was Skid or not…I reasoned, perhaps the lady doesn’t have her facts 

straight. I called the animal control to get her number again, and then they asked me what the 

details were of my cat. This would be the 3rd time I gave animal control “B” my information. 

I called the lady and asked her to let me know when the “cat” comes into her yard and keep

 him in a cage and call me.

Week 6, August 29th, 2007 – “The call” came from the lady who FOUND a Siamese… 

…and was beside myself at the chance this could be Skid! I approached the property 

owner with the cage and could see from a distance that it was NOT Skid. I was so hopeful…

but was disappointed.  It was a beautiful Lilac Sealpoint cat, peeking at me through the cage

 door.  The lady asked me if I wanted him as she could not keep him and he’s been living 

in the streets of the neighbourhood for quite sometime…and there are no flyers looking for

 him. I found it hard to believe no one would be looking for him…when I had an Amber 

Alert out for Skid. I called home to ask my daughter and husband what they thought of 

my bringing this little one home and said, “when Skid comes home, we’ll have two

 Siamese”. So I brought this blue eyed, tawny face and pawed white Siamese home.

A psychic had given me some clue-words, which led me to another town just west of

 where our house was so I decided on that Sunday of the Labour Day weekend, 

September 5th, to put up some posters “on that side” of the Concession Road and

 hand out flyers to that community. I was hopeful with the information the psychic 

gave me, as she advised that “someone was feeding Skid, he is sleeping in their

 bay-window, there is a long driveway with newly planted evergreens of 

sorts”…I looked intently at every property along my path and anything close, 

I put a flyer in their mailbox. I spent the afternoon talking to people asking for their

 help and felt my efforts were worthwhile. I had to keep doing “something” to bring

 awareness to Skid being missing in that area.

Week 7, September 5, 2007 9:00 am. My phone rang at work and I could see 

on the call display the words ANIMAL CONTROL. I answered “Hello animal control”. 

The lady (officer) asked for Vera. I said “speaking”. She said “I think we have found your

 Siamese cat…this morning we picked up a male, neutered, declawed, chocolate

 Sealpoint Siamese, 16 years old………..”I was speechless.I said, “ok I’m sitting down,

 but tell me again. Really? Where? ”She said “it was called in from the Ajax/Whitby border”

(We had relocated Whitby on August 10th…but he would not have known our new house.

 But we did live in Whitby a year and ½ ago? Was he “finding” his way back to “that home”?)

My mind was racing…knowing how far that is from where we lived. I said I would be in 

as soon as possible and she said they are open until 7pm.All day I couldn’t believe

 these words. Could it be true? Is it Skid? To preserve myself, I stayed as neutral 

as I could on my drive up to the shelter, just in case it wasn’t Skid…But that she had

 specifically said “16 years old” kept playing out hope in my mind…

I entered the shelter, the officer unlocked the entrance door and showed me into the

 area where the animal cages were. He pointed to a cage. I looked inside and saw a

 small, boney, skinny, brown and tanned tattered fur, sitting awkwardly in the corner 

of the cage his eyes the colour of being lost…a misty grey. I hardly recognized him.

 I opened the door and said “Skid”. He looked at me intently, focusing on me and

 my voice. He “knew” it was me. I was 98% sure it was him as  he was so 

unrecognizable from how I knew him to be – a robust, 10 lb’er, beautifully marked

 chocolate Sealpoint with sky blue eyes. He motioned towards me but was

 very, very weak and could hardly take the step. He extended his paw to me. 

I put my finger under his paw pad. He squeezed my finger with his pad. I put my 

hand out and his head nuzzled against my hand. I could feel him being so “grateful”

 that I had finally arrived …and as if “bowing” to my hand. He was thanking me for 

coming to get him. I will always remember the silence and Grace of this moment.

 His eyes, like mine, could not believe this was happening. He blinked a few times to 

focus, as I did. I looked at the photo I brought with me several times, comparing him

 each time…trying to “find” the markings that were in the photo. It was extremely 

difficult as Skid had been reduced in size to a ¼ of what he used to be. He was a

 miniature version. The officer helped me do the comparison, and said “well, he looks

 pretty close BUT you have to know if it is yours or not”. I asked “are they very 

accurate in here with “age” of animals? I mean, 16 years old…not 13, not 15…”

 He said, “they are pretty good here at being accurate”. I was astounded. This key 

point could have cost Skid his life.

I felt this little lost miniature Siamese was more likely Skid than he was not. I advised 

the officer. He said “lady, no one is coming to get this cat. He’s had a really rough

 time. Go ahead and take him…I won’t charge you the fee for keeping him today 

or the license fee”.

I patted Skid in the cage on the way home. He didn’t even need a cage. I could 

have put him in my purse. He was a quiet passenger on the way home, just looking

 at me through the cage door as I patted him with my right hand while I was driving.

 The house we were coming home to, Skid had not lived in yet so he would have

 no sense of security with where he was coming to. 

When I arrived home, my husband looked at him and said “are you sure it is Skid?”

 I said, “more sure than I am not”. He said “I’ll get him some milk”. I said, “ no just

 water is ok”. He said…”no, he looks like he’s had a rough time…he deserves milk”…

Skid teetered on his boney legs through the house, smelling the rugs, shoes, doors,

 furniture for familiar scents. Quickly he knew he was home, even though he wasn’t

 familiar with the spaces in the house. When my son arrived home that night, I called 

him into the family room where Skid was sleeping and he was speechless…he said

 “is that Skid?”…and after some time patting him and looking at him, he said “yeah, 

I’m pretty sure it is him. Get the vet to check his back teeth… remember we had 

some teeth removed from Skid a few years ago?” This would be a tell-tale sign.

The next day, the vet checked Skid…and also could not believe his travels or the 

state of his health, considering what he has endured. No parasites. Some “blood 

counts” are higher than normal but considering what he has been through, amazing…

levels should return once he has food and water and rest.

He said there were back teeth missing. Although this was the 2% confirmation…it 

became clear to us very quickly the night before…this little disheveled Siamese cat

was indeed Skid. 

Skid was Home.

July 17th, 2007 to September 5, 2007

Seven weeks and two days, Skid had traveled approximately 8-10 miles in heat, rain, 

thunder storms, through thick high brush, wide open spaces, where coyotes are known to

 be, with little or no food or water for time on end. The main road he traveled along is a

 high use roadway under construction “constantly”, the road itself as well as housing 

developments around it. Constantly there would be trucks and cars on the roadway 

and little or no trees or grass on the perimeters…just concrete, dirt and dust. 

He entered the house walking on the back end of his paws, a robotic cat, very slow,

 very brittle. The “other” new cat cannot quite make out what Skid is…a kangaroo? 

His legs are thin and spindly and he teeters when he walks. He crosses his front paws

 when he sits to balance himself. He cannot sit down properly. His bones are prevalent. 

He cannot look up at you or he’ll fall over, being so weak, light-weight and brittle. 

He tried to wash his face with his paw and fell over. Skid was always talking and very 

vocal. He does not meow anymore. He motions to say something and all that comes 

out is a faint, small “squeak”. He used to “purr” LOUD at the slightest touch…you

 could hear him from ½ way across the room, like a motor was running. If you patted him 

for ½ hour, he would purr for ½ hour. It takes him a while now to purr, you

 have to really listen and get close to him to hear the slightest sound. He just wants to be

 held and touched and nuzzles under your chin every chance he gets. 

My daughter could not believe Skid’s return…She arrived home and cried for quite some

 time, holding him in disbelief, saddened by all of what he had been through and the state 

he was in. She spent her time home with him in her room, on his favourite blanket,

 snuggling and loving him the day through. This was the best medicine he could have

 his 2nd day home…

I am sure people were rolling their eyes about me and my quest to find Skid.

But I didn’t care. I had to do what I had to do, no matter how crazy I looked.

I can acknowledge that I am not like anyone else and a bit off kilter when it 

comes to things I do when I set my mind to doing them. I’m ok with that. 

This was to be a short story, but near impossible to leave out any of the details. Each

 detail is important, the main one being…do not give up your search if you feel your

 animal is out there. Vicky Vaughan advised me at the onset  “give it at least 8 weeks”.

 This seemed an eternity and impossible to manage through with all the unknowns. 

Believe - in spite of what others may say or think. If something is driving you forward to

 do something, do it.  Doing “something” is better than doing “nothing”…put your energy

 into what you feel is right.  Keep your energy out there with positive intentions …it can make

 a difference. Follow up and follow up…3 times I gave a description of Skid to the animal 

control “B” over the 6 week period…it was fresh in the officer’s mind by the time someone 

had made the “rescue” call…otherwise Skid may have ended up in the volumes of unclaimed

 cats… It really is a Miracle.

A happy ending  / a happy beginning story. 

Skid continues to fight for wellness, but every day there are more little miracles happening 

for him as he recovers from his ordeal. His main objective is to “get in as many hugs, snuggles 

and cuddles” he can…he’s making up for 7 wks and 2 days of not having any at all…Against 

all odds…no ID tag, not micro chipped, declawed…he found his way through…We are 

humbled by his courage and love. The moments of Grace bestowed upon us all will resonate

 always.

Vera

Whitby, Ontario

Canada

(Note from Vicky...Vera had nursed Skid back to health and Skid was able to spend the

 remainder of his life at home.  On the day that he took his journey to Rainbow Bridge Skid

 was holding onto Vera's finger with his paw. This is a love that will never die)   

 Four Paws up for Gordon Arnaut!!  Here is his story:

Ginger’s Nine-Day Adventure

 If you are reading this website, chances are you are going through the heartache of a missing or lost cat. There is no greater gift anyone could give you right now than to bring back your missing little buddy.

I can’t do that for you, but I can tell you a story about my cat Ginger -- and how much I learned about lost cat behaviour from his misadventure. And I know this story will help you find your cat too. Ginger was gone for nine whole days, but he was holed up just a few steps from the house all that time -- just like the experts tell you on this website and others.

 I searched and called for him for hours on end. I stood at the very spot where I eventually found him and must have called him there a hundred times -- without a single peep in response. But this is what cats do -- and it is almost certain that your cat is very close by and is doing the same thing that Ginger did for nine days: hiding and keeping quiet, because that is their very logical instinct for self-preservation.

 Here is the whole story. On a fine July day here in rural central Ontario, I noticed, from the kitchen window, one of my cats, Chopi, walking around casually on the back porch. This was cause for alarm because the cats aren’t allowed outside, so I knew she must have opened a window. I quickly found the small bathroom window in the basement that she had managed to slide open. I went outside and retrieved her and then did a headcount to make sure no one else had followed her outside.

 Only problem was, I forgot about Ginger! I didn’t realize it at the time of course, but I had somehow overlooked my beautiful orange tabby. Considering we have 12 cats here at the farm -- all of them indoor cats now because the coyotes have multiplied and become brazen enough to come right up to the barnyard in broad daylight -- I guess it was only a matter of time that I commit such a mental mistake. 

I only became aware of Ginger’s absence the next day, a Saturday, when I noticed that he didn’t show up for breakfast. I felt that sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that I always feel when one of my cats has gone missing. But I was sure he was in the house -- after all I had done a headcount. I couldn’t possibly have overlooked him, I thought. 

It was only after three or four days and several thorough searches of the basement, attic and all the little nooks and crannies where they sometimes hole up, that I began to consider the possibility that he had somehow got out through that window after all. As that realization sank in I was engulfed by despair. There are many predators here, even though it is just an hour’s drive north of Toronto. Lots of coyotes and fishers -- which are vicious little killers related to wolverines and weasels -- and even cougars are spotted in the area occasionally. 

What chance would a neutered little 15 month-old indoor cat possibly stand out there, I thought? Why didn’t he come to the back porch when he got hungry a few hours later? Surely by the next morning he would have been at the door, begging to come in? And if he was hiding nearby in panic, why wouldn’t he come when I call him? What if the neighbour’s tomcat had chased him away and he was long gone from the area?  

Every morning just after sunrise I would go out and search for Ginger. Along the stone fence that starts from out behind the barn, runs down beside the house and then up toward the road. All the trees and bushes along the fences, the driveway and in the yard. I looked everywhere, calling Ginger all the time. I would repeat this whole search at dusk and again after complete darkness fell, using my flashlight to search for the telltale glowing green lights of a cat’s eyes at night.

 But there was no sign of Ginger. After a week missing it was difficult not fall into complete despair. I found a lot of great info on the internet, including this website, and it encouraged me. But most of the stories were about city cats, while I was out here in the country, on a farm. It just wasn’t the same I thought -- there are few predators in the city. Still I made up posters and put them up at pet stores in town, the SPCA, supermarkets -- and handed a couple to my neighbours and asked them to search their yards and barns. 

On the eighth day missing, a Saturday, I decided to bring in professional help. I found the website of Kat Albrecht, a woman who has greatly advanced the science of locating missing pets. Her website led me to Vicky, who was similarly trained and certified -- so I sent Vicky an email. She quickly wrote back and offered to help me over the phone. I cannot express how valuable this conversation was. Vicky’s calm and confident professionalism had a soothing effect on me that brought me back from the brink of hopelessness. Earlier in the day I had talked to my vet and he was no help at all. He shrugged and said that Ginger was probably nabbed by coyotes. I went home with my spirits sagging and my heart aching for my little buddy. 

Hearing and feeling Vicky’s calm confidence over the phone literally lifted my spirits and instilled new hope. I told her I had been setting a trap for the past several nights, but had come up empty. The previous night, I had apparently caught a racoon but he managed to twist open the door and escape. I described the farm setting for Vicky and we talked about places to set traps. That phone conversation brought me back to life. 

By the time I got off the phone with Vicky it was dark and time to shut the henhouse. I went outside with my flashlight and started calling Ginger. To my amazement I heard a faint cry from the bushes out behind the barn. In fact, the previous night I thought I had heard a single faint little meow from that same direction, but as I continued calling I noticed my neighbour’s tomcat, Hobo, his eyes illuminated by my flashlight, coming right across the hayfield towards me. He sometimes comes to our porch for supper -- and he used to hang around a lot in the days when the cats were still allowed outside. While calling for Ginger, I had managed to roust up Hobo instead. Oh well, I gave Hobo a good supper and went to bed pining for my little Ginger. 

But tonight there was no mistaking the meowing voice. It was my Ginger! I headed straight toward the stone fence and bushes out behind the barn. Ginger continued to talk to me. It started to rain and thunder, and lightning flashed very close by. The rain was coming down in sheets, but I didn’t care. I had on a coat and hat and I wasn’t about to leave my poor little guy until I got him home. I clutched the big flashlight wondering if its metal case might attract lightning. I turned it off and set it down on a cedar fence rail, and sat myself down on a large stone under the protective cover of tree branches. I waited like that for about an hour, talking to Ginger all the time. I wanted so much to coax him out, but he wasn’t about to emerge from his protective cover. 

I thought to bring him some food. Maybe he would work up the courage to come out if he got a good meal in him. I went to the house and came back with a bowl of kibble and a bowl of tuna. I set both down in the thick underbrush where Ginger’s voice was coming from and headed for the barn to sit and wait. After about an hour I came back and noticed that the kibble, which had quickly turned to mush in the rain, had been eaten, and most of the tuna as well. I also noticed several small leaches inside the food bowls. They came out with the rain and would be a good source of food for a scared cat hiding in the bushes. There are lots of insects to eat too, and I realized a cat could survive for many days like this.  

It all started making sense -- all that stuff I read about lost cat behaviour on the internet. Yes, a cat will go into “complete cover” mode if it is displaced from its territory. For an indoor cat that means it will go into this protective mode very close to home. But even an outdoor cat that is driven from its territory -- by a predator, a neighbourhood dog, or even another cat -- will find a place to hide and stay there. In this case, you simply have to go a little farther afield and search just outside the radius of your cat’s normal territory. But the key is to not give up. A cat can survive for weeks very close to home, before it is eventually forced to go farther.  

Thoroughly soaked and somewhat exhausted, and with Ginger showing no sign of emerging, I decided that I had done as much as I could for the night. I got the trap from the barn and set it up at the same spot where I had put the food earlier. Incredibly, the previous night I had placed the trap at this very spot -- before I knew Ginger was here. I refilled the food bowls and set them inside the trap. It had been a long night, but I knew now that Ginger was alive. That’s all I needed for a good night’s sleep. 

The next morning, I went out to the trap right away and noticed that it had sprung, but the door had caught on a vine in the thick underbrush and stuck half open. The food was eaten, but I didn’t know by whom. I had made a rookie mistake with the trap -- failing to check its action before leaving it. I was a little worried about Ginger, but he started answering me right away. I had still not actually seen him to this point. 

I got an idea. Why not bring out a cat that he knows and trusts? Mali, a big black and white former tom has been like a surrogate mother to several generations of young ones here on the farm. Ginger and his brothers and sisters have cuddled with Mali and sought comfort in his big furry embrace since they were weaned from their mother. Whenever they are upset or scared, they run right to Mali -- even now, as they are nearing adulthood. I took Mali out to the spot and he immediately started sniffing around a tree. Something told me to look up -- and there was Ginger, high up in the branches, sleeping peacefully as the sun shone down upon him.  

I cannot describe what a wonderful feeling it was to lay eyes upon him for the first time in nine days. I went to fetch a long extension ladder, but I knew I had to be careful. I had read in some of the rescue stories how, after finally being found, a cat can be easily scared away, only to disappear all over again. That would be awful -- so close and yet so far away.

 I had the foresight to put on a pair of heavy work gloves and that saved the day. When I got up the ladder and picked Ginger up, he didn’t want to come down. He was fighting and clawing all the way down the ladder. Even with the heavy gloves, I was barely able to hold on to him, but I knew that letting go would be disastrous. I had a fistful of skin in each hand and as soon as I got down the ladder I started for home, mindful not to lose my footing on some stone or branch in the grass. In hindsight, I wished I had planned it out better and maybe called the SPCA for help – It would have been short work for one of their pros with their animal-catcher poles. 

With Ginger still clawing and fighting, it seemed to take forever to get to the back porch -- but finally, here is the door, I’m opening it, and in you go buddy. We were home free and my little guy was back where he belongs. As I’m writing this at the computer, he stops by from time to time to say, “Meow.” He’s glad to be back home, and I’m glad he’s back where he belongs too. 

I learned a very valuable lesson from this -- never give up hope and don’t stop searching. It is crucial to learn as much as possible about lost cat psychology. After just a few days missing I was totally convinced that Ginger had come to grief. Yet he was here under my nose for nine whole days. What if I had given up, which would have been so easy to do? Would he have eventually come home? Maybe. But maybe he would have been driven farther away before he could come home. Eventually he could have become weakened enough from starvation that he might have fallen prey to a predator.  

A city cat might be close by for weeks, long after their owner had given up. I wonder how many cats are never reunited with their owners because they have given up too soon. So close and yet so far away… 

Postscript: Vicky is truly an everyday hero to our furry friends and their distraught owners. Even though she is 1000 miles away, she was the biggest help I could have hoped for. In lieu of Vicky’s fee, I have made a donation to a local non-profit, no-kill animal shelter.

 Gordon Arnaut

Oro-Medonte Township, Ontario.

r!!!

ILU & I miss you!

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