Meeting Black Boy - By Monique
"What is the most important thing to remember when you're feeding the cats?", she asked.
I honestly didn't remember, I hadn't been paying close attention obviously. "I don't know," I said.
"Don't let anyone see you feed them, or they will hurt or complain about the cats."
Many outdoor cats are very sick and need special attention, such as is the case with a very special cat named Black Boy, who
for the past 5 years has lived in a complex parking lot, in the bushes and under the stairs.
Springer & Black Boy
The first time that I met Black Boy in 2002, he was accompanied by a black kitten who was
smaller and fluffier, named Springer. It was quite obvious that they were best friends, as they would
run around and play together, groom each other, and although there were several other cats around, they always
stuck together because they loved each other. They were inseparable. I watched them get so excited for their food,
as the can was opened and their wet food was tossed into a bowl. Springer lived up to his name as he
was so feisty and anxious running circles around the feet of whoever happened to be holding the can. I remember watching Black Boy, how calm he was, obviously happy to have another meal but being very mature about it. It was almost like watching a father admire his son standing in the candy store as the child ran from display to display finding new goodies.
Immediately, I gained respect for Black Boy, as I began to think what his life must have been like up until then. As a kitten, did he have a home? Was he loved and coddled, given the best toys and best food, until one day someone decided they did not want to take care of him anymore so they just tossed him out onto the street? Or had he been there his entire life, in the Florida heat day after day? My only thoughts were that this cat was very special, he deserved so much more. On the outside he wasn't anything special to look at, just your normal stray
black cat with tattered ears, an obvious eye infection, rough fur and a solemn stare. However it was apparent by the way
he acted with Springer, and interacted with human contact that this was no ordinary stray, he was special.
As Springer ran around and played on the drain in the parking lot, trying to attack my shoes as I tried my best to keep
him from stepping on him, I watched Black Boy eat. It was then that I was told he had FIV, better known as Feline AIDS.
One night as I went with Nonnie to feed the colonies, I was sitting on the curb as Black Boy and Springer both came up to me and laid down in
front of me, I began talking to them for they felt like old friends of mine. For the length that I spoke, they never
moved but watched me intently, and I knew they were listening to every word I said as I poured my heart out to them. Through their motions and body
language, I knew they had heard me, and accepted me. I said good-bye to them and went back home, but there wouldn't be a day that went by I didn't think about them.
Then shortly before Christmas of 2002, I received an email from Michael telling me that Springer had been killed by a
car. It was then that everything I had ever heard him say about the cats became all too real in my mind. I remembered
all the faces staring out at me, faces of every shape, color and size, wondering how many of the others I had
seen would also die a horrible death. The outside cats have nothing to protect them but their own instincts, no one to depend on but themselves, and no one to love them but each other. Now Black Boy was all alone, he had lost his best and only feline friend. Although my heart cried for the loss of Springer's life, my prayers went to Black Boy - the one left behind.
Not too long after Springer was killed, Michael said he had noticed a lump growing behind Black Boy's front left leg and that
it must be cancer. The adventures with Black Boy have been nothing less than heart wrenching and traumatic since then.
The lump began growing faster and faster, and by the time I saw my furry friend again in early 2003, it had
grown easily to the size of a baseball and he had gotten much thinner. As he followed us to the mailbox walking ever so
slowly, we had to stop every few paces to let him catch up. His loyalty shone bright as he held his head up and followed us to the mailbox
and back to the car where he patiently waited for his dinner. Once again, I tried to spend as much time with Black Boy as possible. I rubbed him and his fur was quite thin and the skin underneath ridden with scabs, but as he raised his head in the air and rolled around
for me to pet him, he was such a happy cat. I asked what the scabs where from and Nonnie did not know. Michael had been putting Advantage on him so it wasn't from fleas. I wished that it was possible to find a home for this sweet young man,
however I knew that chances were very slim of finding someone willing to take in and care for such an ill cat. So I
stayed with him, massaging his back as he laid down on the gravel rolling around and purring.
Black Boy and I caught up quickly on everything we'd missed and I told him how
sorry I was about what had tragically happened to his best friend. Then as I was petting him, he laid down and rolled over on
his back to have his tummy scratched and I gladly obliged. I rubbed his belly as he wriggled left and right,
loving every moment of it. I kept thinking to myself, "Who would put such a sweet animal on the streets? Who WOULDN'T
want him as a member of their family?" Now he is fighting for his life.
Due to the Feline AIDS and his susceptibility to other viruses, Black Boy's eyes stay filled with a thick discharge through
which it is very difficult for him to see. He has lost an incredible amount of weight in just mere weeks and it has become
much more difficult for him to walk. His daily trips to the mailbox just aren't possible anymore. The cat that was
once so patient about waiting for his dinner now barely has the energy to sit up long enough to eat out of his bowl. His tumor
has now grown from a ball behind his leg, to a large mass that extends from his side to the front of his chest.
The nightly brushing he receives is the only thing he has close to the life of a normal cat and as he rolls around in
bliss one would almost forget how sick he truly is. I can only begin to imagine the emotional trauma that Michael has endured taking
care of these cats for so long, the case of Black Boy in particular. Imagine finding out that your five year old child
has terminal cancer and the doctors telling you that there is nothing they can do.
That is what the cats are to Michael, something to love and not be taken for granted.
Black Boy is one of the most loyal, friendly and loving cats I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. I can't begin to imagine
what life has been like for him and only regret that more couldn't be done to make it better for him. Although a vet
has now agreed to see him and try to treat him, as everyone prays for the best, there is no guarantee about his future.
There are too many cats still out there living in the same conditions that Black Boy has endured for what has probably
been most of his life, and until you see all the eyes, the beautiful faces staring out at you, the reality of it never truly sinks in. The first time
you see them, touch them and feel them nudge their heads up against you it is emotionally impossible to
walk away from them and forget that they are there. That is what Michael feels. He can't possibly walk away now, no matter how heart wrenching this is. They are the faces of undying love.
They cannot all end up with the inevitable fate that they are forced to have because someone couldn't care about them.
They need a home, they need love, they deserve a chance. Please pray for Black Boy's miracle of good health.
