We’ve had a promising development with Obi/Oberon. Lately, when Randy opens the front door to bring out food, Obi has come inside a short distance as though he feels right at home. He might feel encouraged because we’ve let Obi, Ozzy, Tuxita, Kelly, and Tilly sniff at one another through the screen door several times. We’re pretty sure that Tilly and Obi remember being friends. She originally showed up with Obi as a stray, would hang around with him, and rub up against him when they were both outside. Obi was completely tolerant of her.

Sniffing at the screen has gone well, but even more amazing is that Obi has now gone nose-to-nose with the other cats when he comes inside the front door. No hissing, no drama. It wasn’t what we expected, but we’re delighted. We’ve discussed how much we wish we could bring Obi inside during the winter. Now we’re thinking it may just be possible to do that come next winter. We’ll see how this progresses.

In the meantime, here’s Obi having fun with a foam rubber ball. Sometimes he gets it stuck on a claw and keeps it close to him.

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Obi flashed me the Belly of Doom. His look says, “Go ahead, I dare ya.” I am not so easily led into the belly-trap. My hands are intact and no blood has been shed. Today.

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Damn, Obi and Charlie were at it again. Randy and I raced outside to break it up, but I found them facing off inside a neighbor’s fenced yard. All I could do was yell at them. That eventually did the trick. Obi ran off first, which prompted Charlie to chase him. They went under the neighbor’s front porch, which is a large raised deck. Randy texted the neighbor to alert him to the situation.

We leave one of the windows in the living room cracked open for Kelly, who loves to sit there smelling the outside world. There’s a shelf outside below that window with a large snapdragon plant on it. A few times lately, Obi’s head has popped up into that window, next to the plant. He’s sniffed noses with Kelly and Tuxita that way.

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It turns out that Obi didn’t leave that last fight unscathed and the traces of blood on his neck were his. We only realized it the next day when he was rolling around on his back, which exposed two scratches, one on each side of his chest. Luckily, they’re shallow and not serious. They should heal up without a problem.

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Kelly is a superb watchcat. He does an excellent job of alerting us to conflicts happening outside, especially when Charlie shows up.

Speaking of Charlie the troublemaker, yesterday I prepared a document for Charlie’s people that would give me permission to trap and neuter him. I took two copies with me, and with some trepidation, walked to their house and knocked. The cherub in diapers once again opened the door, shadowed by her bigger brother (who regaled me with a picture of and facts about praying mantises, apparently his current passion). They escorted me to their nana. Rather than use the neighbor’s name (to respect privacy), I’ll simply call her Nana.

I sat down and had an entirely easy and pleasant chat with Nana and her daughter (the mother of the two kids). As I suspected, they haven’t been able to afford to have Charlie fixed. I had already committed myself to trapping and fixing Charlie before I knew he had a name or a home, so I said that I would help them out by taking care of that part for the good of both our cats.

I mentioned the recent altercation that left my cat injured and needing antibiotics. It turns out that Charlie came home with an injury and abscess, too, so they didn’t need convincing that he needs to be fixed.

When I asked whether he could be caught or handled, I was surprised to learn that when he’s at home, Charlie is a lover. Nana said he’s sweet and friendly, and sleeps on her bed every night. They don’t think it will be a problem to get him into a carrier. I definitely didn’t expect that.

Nana was fine with signing the permission document. I filled in her full name and phone number, then left her the second copy with my name and phone number.

The plan is for Nana to get Charlie into a carrier Thursday morning, and I’ll pick him up around 9:30 am. I was lucky to get a vet appointment for 9:40 to have Charlie neutered. I warned her to make sure he doesn’t get food or water after midnight on Wednesday, though I should probably call tonight with a reminder.

We have a plan. But will Charlie cooperate? We’ll see what happens.

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We almost lost Obi to a fox tonight. I heard what I thought was a cat fight outside my office window. Randy and I grabbed flashlights and raced outside in different directions to get to that corner of the house.

Randy was out there before me and he saw a big fox right where I heard the fight take place. He showed me a batch of Obi fur that was on the ground. I searched around the outside of the house and Randy went further down the road where he found Obi at a neighbor’s house and was able to get him to come home.

Obi looks untouched and we couldn’t find an injury, but it must have been a close call. He’s in his usual spot on the woodbox having some food. If he’s hungry, he must be doing all right.

I was about to post an update anyway. Obi’s ear is almost completely healed. He’s done with the antibiotics and is back to his energetic, spunky, feisty self. He’s taken to giving us whacks again and Randy has matching scratches on each hand as proof.

We sure wish we could bring him inside, but Ozzy is barely tolerating Kelly. It would probably be a bloodfest between Ozzy and Obi, and Kelly might also a problem.

It’s hard on the nerves having an outside cat. It’s a constant source of worry.

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We had to jump up from our desks last night because Obi and Charlie were going at it again. A big fight on the back deck. What alerted us was the new sentry, Kelly, making a sound I’ve never heard him make – the Wail of the Banshee, the Yowl from Hell. He was at the glass door witnessing the fight right outside and he was pouffed up to twice his size and howling to go into battle.

Charlie vanished as soon as we went outside. There was orange Obi fur all over the deck. After several minutes, we were able to call Obi to the front porch where I examined him carefully while he purred mightily. No blood and no injury that I could find. He was even willing to eat right away. We got lucky this time, but this has to stop.

The photo was from the late afternoon. He looked so nice with the lilac bush as a backdrop.

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I picked up the antibiotics yesterday and I’m glad I did. Though I thought Obi’s ear looked a little better first thing in the morning, Randy later called me out to show me that it was more serious that I’d thought. Charlie or whoever did the damage, bit all the way through Obi’s ear. The back of Obi’s ear was also perforated.

We got a pill into him last night and again this morning. A short time later, Randy urgently called me outside. The mass that had been building up in Obi’s ear finally burst open and there was a mess of blood and pus.

I came out with wet cotton balls, cleaned up Obi’s ear, and managed to get a big glob of antibiotic ointment on it. He even let Randy give him a gentle chest massage while I was doing it. A first!

A couple of hours later, there was another big discharge, so I repeated the treatment, cleaned him up and put on ointment. He was a perfect gentleman for me. He let me do what needed to be done without squirming or complaining. He was entirely calm and patient. Such a good boy for a cat that started out a feral.

Having the injury drain like that was the best thing to ask for. His ear looks much better and won’t turn into an abscess. He’ll get the pills for another six days. He should be fine…if we can keep him out of another fight.

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I heard a brief cat fight late last night, out behind the house. Randy and I grabbed flashlights to investigate, but didn’t see anything happening. A few minutes later, Oberon strolled up the driveway, having probably chased another cat off.

This morning, Randy told me that Obi had a mass of clotted blood in his left ear, so I went out to have a look at it. I saw what looked something like a large blood blister, obviously inflamed. I came back out with some wet cotton balls and started cleaning it up, then I squeezed it a few times, trying to open it up before it turned into an abscess.

Obi was remarkably good about this at first, but it clearly hurt like hell. After a minute, he let me know “I’ve had enough and if you try that again, it will be your blood on the deck.” I had to give up before I could get antibiotic ointment on it. Maybe I’ll manage that later.

I called the vet to request antibiotics that I can give him in food, so hopefully I can pick those up tomorrow.

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Obi got into another serious fight with Charlie yesterday. I heard the sounds of a cat fight in the distance and had to track it down to behind the neighbor’s house across the street. I broke it up, but it was a while before Obi came limping home. Later, I was able to examine him more thoroughly and couldn’t find any obvious injury. No sign of blood, no flinching when I felt his joints and back. New scratches on nose and in left ear.

We keep having to chase Charlie away and we’re not happy about it. Obi has been disappearing for hours instead of staying closely around the house, which worries and bothers us. His appetite hasn’t been nearly as good either.

There was dry food in Obi’s bowl when we went to bed, and Obi was sleeping on his bed. This morning, we found that a raccoon had eaten the food. I could tell because they left a distinct kind of dirty paw smears in the food bowl, and then washed their dirty paws in the water bowl and left it full of dirt and debris. So we’ll have to be more careful about not leaving out food even when Obi is there, unless he’s actively eating it.

Soon, I will have to initiate another discussion with Charlie’s family. I rather doubt they will do anything unless I take charge, offer to help, and with my luck, I’ll end up paying the vet bill. But we’re upset about Obi getting hurt again and again, so if that’s what it takes, we’ll do it.

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The grey and white cat has to go. He keeps coming around to start fights with Oberon. I’ve stopped feeding him and Randy shoos him away, but that hasn’t deterred him.

This morning, Obi and the grey cat finally got into it, locked in mortal combat, screaming and yowling, fur flying everywhere. I was able to chase away the grey cat, but it took a long time for Obi to calm down enough for us to examine him.

Obi’s thick fur did a good job of protecting him. He has a couple of minor scratches on nose and face, a tiny nick inside his left ear, but otherwise looks untouched. We hope.

I need to find someone with a ranch or farm property that might want to take the grey cat as a barn cat. Whether I find someone or not, I need to trap that cat soon and get him fixed. I don’t want to release him back here because we don’t have the bandwidth, time, or resources to deal with him.

Kelly went crazy at the glass door when the fight started. He was pouffed up and desperate to get outside and join the fight.

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It makes us happy to see Obi sleeping peacefully on his bed on the porch. He knows he’s safe and welcome. He has a cushion under the fleece blanket, and we have two of the blankets so that we can swap them out when one gets wet.

His fur is a mess right now. It’s beyond fixing with a comb. When it warms up, and he starts to shed his winter coat in earnest, we’ll cut the mats off and get him combed back to respectability.

Sorry the picture is rather crap, mainly because of all the cat snot on the window.

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Ozzy and Oberon side by side for a size comparison. Luckily, there’s a glass door between them or fur would be flying.

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Randy has been giving Obi different toys to play with. Today it was a catnip mousie and Oberon had a grand old time batting it around.

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Oberon has taken to hanging out with Randy in the back yard when Randy is putting out seeds and peanuts for the birds in the morning. We’ve definitely become his people, or as close to it as he can come to belonging to someone. He loves having our attention.

Randy has been teaching Obi to play with a small foam rubber ball. Obi was mystified by it at first, so Randy had to demonstrate how to play with it. But Obi picked it up quickly and is starting to have fun with batting it around or rolling around holding it in his paws and disemboweling it.

After his initial breakfast, he showed up with fresh scratches above his left eye and in his left ear, and Randy notice him limping. We can’t see anything significant. Hopefully, just a pulled muscle or some such thing. Randy spotted yet another orange tabby lurking outside our yard.

Obi spent most of the afternoon having a warm nap in the sun next to the gnome-eating cat.

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Obi showed up about a week ago with faint traces of blood on his fur. It’s a sign of how much trust he has for me now that he allowed me to carefully probe and examine his neck for a wound. There were some faint scabs from recent fighting, but the blood must have come from the other combatant. I had hoped that having him fixed would reduce his fighting, but no such luck.

We’ve had some bitterly cold nights in the low 20s. Tough as he is, we worried about him. We made attempts to get him to come inside and into the laundry room on his own. At best, he would finally come inside and let us pet him, but he wouldn’t go far from the front door. I tried luring him with the string that he loves to chase, but he wasn’t fooled.

One night, Randy took a chance. Once Oberon had stepped inside, Randy picked him up, supporting him under his belly as we’ve done outside when we wanted to put him on top of the woodbox. Obi didn’t struggle at all. Randy carried him into the laundry room and I closed the door. We had food and water out, a catbox on the landing of the back stairs and a hooded bed he could hide and sleep in. Randy stayed with him for a while to reassure him.

We felt good about accomplishing that. In the morning, we found Obi at the bottom of the stairs having ignored everything we put out for him. He was stressed and unhappy. We let him out through the garage. Happily, he forgave us quickly and showed up on the front porch for his morning food within minutes.

Well, I should say he forgave me. He took whacks at Randy all day, a lot more than usual, but by the evening he got over it. We talked it over and decided that the stress it causes is probably not worth the effort of forcing him inside, so we aren’t going to do that again unless it’s exceptionally cold.

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We went from a long dry spell to lots of rain. Oberon keeps showing up wet. We keep swapping out his fleece blankets to keep them dry, and we’ve made such wonderful progress in petting him that he is even letting us wipe his back off with towels. He has truly bonded with us. We try, between the two of us, to pet him up and play with him frequently day and night. He would love for us to be out there with him all the time.

PHOTO: When we had a couple days between rainstorms, Obi would find a sunny spot to nap in the backyard.

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I present you with His Chonkiness, Lord Oberon.

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We’ve made wonderful progress with Oberon. He’s come to truly enjoy having his head, ears, and neck scratched, and loves his butt scritchies. He’ll push his butt into our hands when we scratch him there. He rolls around on our feet whenever we go out and purrs non-stop, whether he’s being petted or not. I think he’s a naturally affectionate cat who never had the chance to be domesticated or learn to trust humans.

That doesn’t mean we can relax. Randy and I were standing in the kitchen the other night comparing our Obi scratches. One of Obi’s nicknames is Mr. Whackadoodle. He continues to strike out at hands that are in the wrong place at the wrong time. He’s worst in the morning when Randy brings him the first food. Randy figures it’s because Obi is hungry and has had to endure a miserably cold night. For that reason, Randy has taken to wearing heavy leather gloves for the first feeding. He lets Obi whack the gloved hand, then leaves it there for Obi to smell. When Obi realizes his whacking isn’t having an effect, he usually gives up.

This morning, Obi got so excited about the scritchies that Randy was giving him, that he gave Randy a bite on the hand. Luckily, it didn’t get through the glove. We’ve made a note to watch out for excessive enthusiasm on Obi’s part.

Obi expresses his unhappiness when we have to go inside by attacking our legs and feet. He has strong opinions and uses his claws to express them. He wants us to stay out there with him all the time now.

It breaks our hearts to see him outside on these bitterly cold nights below freezing. We’ve discussed it and have decided that if it gets too much colder, we’ll put Kelly in my office, put Ozzy and Tuxita in Randy’s office, and try to get Obi to come inside, at which point we’d have to herd him into our utility room and close him in there. He probably wouldn’t like it, but at least he’d be warm overnight. I suspect many things could go wrong with this idea (understatement much?).

We’ve also had to change how much we’re feeding him. We were feeding him indiscriminately and turned him into a major chonk. The new approach is to measure out the correct amount of dry food in the morning in a container, then dole that out more carefully during the day and into the night. He’s still getting two bowls of soft food a day, so we’re not exactly starving him.

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We tried Obi on a catnip toy. He was mildly interested in it for about half a minute, then ignored it. He seems to fall into the genetic percentage of cats that aren’t tempted by catnip.

He was more interested in rolling around on our feet and purring. We’ve each taken whatever opportunity we can to give him scritchies on the butt, back, or head. He loves getting the butt scritchies until he realizes that a hand is involved, then he reacts.

The other night, after rolling around on Randy’s feet, Obi strolled right into the house when Randy came inside. Randy had to quickly herd him back out. I’m sure Oberon would much rather be in our warm house than outside on a cold night. We feel bad having to keep him outside, but we simply have no way to let him be inside. We were lucky that the only other cat around at that moment was Kelly, who had no interest in starting anything with Obi.

I timed it badly this morning when giving him soft food and trying to give him a gentle stroke on the back. I ended up with two bleeding puncture wounds. We keep hoping to reach a point where he gives up his belief that HANDS ARE EVIL.

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