I've named him "Pookie." **EDIT: In honor of Michael Jackson, his full name is "Pookie, king of pop."
Pooks is in pretty bad shape. His right front paw is completely lame, and he keeps it tucked up to his chest. This explains why he hasn't really moved from under the awning on the side of our house -- he isn't very mobile. He's pretty much been sleeping the days away, which sucks, because it rains a lot and is hot a lot.
I found a crappy white tupperware thing without a lid that we weren't using and filled it with water which I set out right in front of him. He wouldn't go near it while I was looking at him, so I left, but I peeked right before going in the house and he was drinking.
New Haven animal control is taking their sweet time. I called them at like noon today, and the dispatcher said they were out on another call.
**EDIT: Second cat update
Called Animal Control again today, and they finally dispatched an officer. He took forever to get here, so I befriended Leo, the nice old landlord of the house next door, who's been feeding the strays, including Pookie. When the officer got here, he gave up trying to catch Pooks almost immediately, and instead left a crate with Leo and me. Leo's going to try to lure him into the crate with food and then I'm going to call Animal Control and they can take him to the shelter.
This process is taking absolutely forever, and this is just one injured cat. There's four-five other strays, including two kittens, that are going to be way harder to catch.
4 years ago