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| Name: |
Bert
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Age: |
Three years old
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| Gender: |
Male
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Kind: |
Ginger tabby and white
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| Home: |
Queensland, Australia |
Bert
was one of the lucky participants of a food trial conducted by some
vets and vet PhD students who were aiming to find the relationship
between certain foods and the occurrence of Type II Diabetes in cats.
Bert's lucky because he used to be a pound cat. Like most pound animals,
unless they're adopted before a certain date, they're euthanized. The
trial was, literally, his second chance in life. All the cats that
partook in the trial have been re-homed; most of them, being adopted by
the clinic vets or vet students like me.
Before the trial started, I used to go to the cat ward- where all the
cats up for adoption are kept- and played with the cats every spare
second I had. I would visit them before class, during every break and
after classes finished each day. In no time, I knew every cat by name,
nature, feeding & toileting habits except for one- Bert. He would always
hide in a cardboard box between the wall and the cages and stay there
for the whole day. After two weeks of unsuccessful coaxing, I decided to
give up.
One day, during one of my routine visits I heard this mouse-like squeak
as I walked through the door. I thought I was hearing things so I
continued walking and sat down on the ground for the cats to jump onto
my lap. After ten minutes or so, I saw this little head poke out from
behind the cages. His pupils were so dilated and I could see his front
legs shaking. He took little steps, slowly, tip-toeing around the other
cats and went right up to my out-stretched fingers. He took one sniff
and licked my middle finger. He then looked back up into my eyes and did
a shy little mouse-squeak.
I was done for it. I fell in love.
Since that day, whenever I was near the cat ward (or return home - now
that he has came home with me), he would do his never ending "meow"
(singular). He would meow until he runs out of breath then take a short
breath and then resumes again. He can't jump without sliding off the
edge of the table; he gets tangled in his own jumper; he can't meow like
a normal cat to save his life and has no idea that he's supposed to lick
his own paws, but I love him.
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