UPDATE (October 6, 2005): Jasmine now lives in my home, and it has not been an easy ride. More accurately, she lives in the basement rafters, having spent several months spreading alarm and despondency among the harmless cats in the guestroom (including Oliver the Persian, q.v.). While in the guestroom, she made it clear that I was as desirable as bug slime in her eyes, and all my attempts win her favour ran aground on the rocks of her abiding dislike (I apologize for the shaky metaphor, but I am not on top form today). One day, Jasmine announced that she wished to leave the room, whereupon she spent a few days hiding under an armoire on the landing. Tiring of this unhygienic solution, I braved her claws and tucked her under one arm to introduce her to the litter boxes in the basement. After one horrified look, she bolted for the rafters, and there she remains until I come up with a way of getting her to relax and come out again. She has her own water bowl and food dish, but her present roost is far from cosy and I would dearly love her to emerge. I fear she is a very lemony lemon indeed, as her good looks do not redeem her aggressive behaviour towards humans, and months of living under my fairly benevolent rule have not softened her stance.

Born in 1998, this pretty blue point female cannot accompany her owner who is moving to another country. Jasmine is definitely an indoor cat and is afraid of other animals. She likes new people to treat her with deference and not attempt to pick her up or take other liberties until she knows them better. Once she is comfortable with you, she will ask for a lot of attention and will occupy your lap or lay claim to your newspaper and generally behave in a typically affectionate Siamese way. Jasmine is spayed and has all her claws.

UPDATE (October 6, 2005): Oliver has decided to come up with his own twist on the feline game of “making the mama lose her mind”, and his is particularly hard to bear. Ever since I moved him to my house, specifically to my spacious and comfortable guest room, he has persistently used the two beds as his latrine, no matter the availability of freshly cleaned litter boxes, with or without lids. At first, only the odd turd was deposited at the pillow end of one bed, but once Oliver had got into his stride, he added urine to his decorations, as well as plentiful turds, and I added clumps of my own (torn out) hair to the cat fur in the room. In order to protect the beds, I have had to cover them in waterproof tarpaulins, which I then conceal with a thin (very washable) bed spread. In case you think I lack inventiveness, let me tell you that I went so far as to array litter boxes on both beds, in case Oliver was afraid of using them when they were at floor level. He ignored them and produced his waste on the free sections of the bed spreads, always favouring the pillow end of the beds. Needless to say, no guests are allowed into this hell hole, and I face the prospect of many years of Oliver’s presence in my home, since he is young and fit and enjoys an excellent appetite (as I can testify to the exceptional vigour of his digestion). No organic reason has been found for his behaviour, and I am considering a mild tranquilizer, to be shared between the blue-eyed boy and me.

UPDATE : Oliver is now in my care, and his face seems to say that he is not enjoying the experience. He too, like Perle and Sesame, has developed a mild eye infection. Having now spent some time with him, I have come around to the view that he may be deaf (it’s hard to judge, as he does flick his ears about in a most convincing manner). He is sharing a small room with Mustard, Gavroche and Custard, and seems to enjoy the stimulus of companionship. He has a playful side, as I saw when he discovered a dancing dot of light from my camera lens and chased it up and down the wall.

Passed from pillar to post after his owners moved to BC and left him behind, Oliver was adopted in November 2004 by his present owners, who tried to integrate him gently into their household of two adult cats. Unfortunately, their cat Romeo, a splendid chinchilla coloured male, repeatedly unleashed the full force of his territorial anger at poor defenseless Oliver. It was an unequal battle, as Oliver has no front claws and is further hampered by his prognathous jaw (the lower jaw protrudes further than the upper, much like a bulldog’s), which gives him almost no biting grip. Oliver’s temperament was not up to this sort of onslaught, and he withdrew into himself, never purring, hiding in a safe place in the laundry room and only emerging to eat (he does eat well, thank goodness, and has even gained Declawed since his adoption). Thus it was decided to find him a new home. I went to assess his potential, and I confess that I was not very optimistic. However, I was charmed by his looks, and even more by the fact that he began to purr for me within a couple of minutes (the secret of my success was a catnip mouse with purple ears, seen on one picture, with which I gently stroked him from head to tail). Named for the Dickensian orphan, Oliver does indeed act as though he has lost all his family and friends, but he is a sweet cat just waiting for an opportunity to show his true colours. I believe he is a real doll just waiting for a safe lap in which to nestle. During his car trip to the vet’s and subsequent examination, he behaved very well, and even submitted without a murmur to a flea search of his belly, upside down on his back. Born in 2001, this blue eyed Persian is castrated and his front paws are declawed.

CHARLIE is as sweet as he is good looking. Born around September 2002, he is castrated and has all his claws as well as a silky semi long grey tabby coat. He was a timid stray in Côte des Neiges, being fed by a lovely older lady who could not adopt him (she lives in a residence whose management would not give her permission). In this lady's care, he gradually became tame and now he is as loving as one could wish. He is getting well socialized to cats (and to little Schatz the kitten) and is an altogether delightful fellow. He would make a very good family cat, being young and vigorous. And just look at those eyes: a dreamboat!

PACHA materialized at my back door one day last year at the age of six months. Her owner, an eighteen year old girl, had just been kicked out of her home by her mother (this is why I don't wonder at the dreadful things people do to animals, since they do perfectly vile things to their own children - but I digress). Born in February 2002, Pacha is spayed and has all her claws. She is a pretty creature who is used to sharing a house with other cats and a couple of dogs, and she bounces around quite happily. Her one problem are her teeth, for she has gingivitis and will have to have them seen to regularly.

This naughty little girl is back from an excellent adoptive home because she has acquired the habit of soiling outside her box. Her wonderful owners tried everything they could think of to get her to use a litter box and were patience itself, but in vain. Since a urinary tract infection has been ruled out, I am at a loss to account for this behaviour, and I am afraid that it consigns Aphrodite to the Lemon Grove, from which she will emerge only if we find a solution to the problem.

WINSTON is a peculiar cat in many ways. Born in 2001, he has hip dysplasia, permanently runny eyes, cowlicks on his back and weird puffy shoulders. You guessed it, he is no oil painting, but he's full of personality. His previous owners had to give him up because he launched serious attacks on their ankles and was beginning to bite their baby (hence my nickname for him: The Baby Biter). He has never done these things to me (I have had him in my home for months), but I haven't got a baby for him to experiment on and perhaps my ankles aren't tasty enough. Barring the odd spat, he gets along well with the other cats and likes dogs, but his favourite thing is my lap and he will drape himself over it languidly whenever the opportunity arises (when I am watching Coronation Street, for instance). He also loves to sleep sprawled over me at night, and is in every way a loving creature. He is castrated and declawed (front).

May 6th, 2003: PLATON is a chinchilla (definitely) Persian (not sure), born in 1997?, castrated and declawed (front paws), rescued on May 6th, 2003; unfortunately, he is deaf, which may account for his slightly jumpy disposition. His splendid eyes are larged, olive green and rimmed in black. He is small boned and slender, and his coat is fine and silky, silver tipped and long. He doesn't like to be picked up or restrained in any way, and would not be good with children, or outdoors, but he purrs all the time and delights in winding himself around one's ankles in an ecstasy of pleasure. Shy at first with the other cats, he now roams happily around the room with the rest of the gang.

UPDATE October 2004: Well, this is the cat that gave me the idea for the Lemon Grove in the first place, so it is only fitting that she now live with me. She was adopted once, months ago, by two lovely people who reported that, despite all their gentleness and patience, she hid all the time and only emerged to poop on the carpet. No wonder they gave her back (they have since adopted Obi-Wan and Yoda). So far, this peculiar cat is quite happy in my madhouse, where she is sharing a huge room with two other cats and is actually using the litter box like a normal cat as well as coming to me to be petted. I guess she couldn’t cope with a civilized home... Lest you think that all is perfect, let me tell you that she is still indulging in her favourite pastime of self mutilation.

K ENYA is a small brown tabby Persian female, born in 2000, spayed and fully declawed. When she came in to my care, she had a severe skin problem, possibly caused by self-mutilation: large sections of her chest and belly were inflamed and weeping, and one ear was similarly affected. Treatment brought immediate relief, but then damage appeared on one cornea which will require surgery on October 28th and will entail a period of convalescence. This cat is shy and gentle and will need a tender and patient adopter. She should do well with other cats, having been one of five in her previous home.

UPDATE: This shy boy now lives with me and has been accepted by my cats. He remains extremely timid around humans and only I can pet him, so I guess that means he is mine, right?

Born in June 2003, this little male cat was a stray all his life, but is not feral. He was fed and sheltered (outdoors) for several months and is becoming more trusting of humans every day. Although he had to be caught in a live trap, he immediately began purring and practically turns himself inside out with delight when he is petted. He has been castrated and has all his claws. He is a bit chubby right now, but I fear part of this is due to some nasty worms (for which he has received treatment). An equally nasty abscess on a hind leg has also been dealt with and Habibi is now ready to discover the joys of indoor life, with sofas, window sills, warm laps and no more anxiety from aggressive tom cats or mean people.

August 01, 2006 Micha fell ill a couple of weeks ago and never came home from the clinic.  He had a high fever and no appetite, and despite all kinds of treatment he got worse and fell into respiratory distress from fluid build-up. I said goodbye and euthanized the poor old boy.

MICHA is a big tabby boy with large round eyes and a fat squishy tummy (motto: "there’s more of me to love"). Born in 1992, castrated and declawed (front), he likes a quiet life. Easily cowed by dominant cats, he copes well with gentle companions (he is now in my home and shares his room with a small blind cat and a little Persian), including dogs. He is strangely keen on my armpits, into which he likes to snuffle for as long as I allow, but I feel sure he would easily transfer this obsession to someone else’s armpits (which would be a relief to me).