Written by Carol Booth, who also supplied the photographs
Mousse is the old man in our cat group. We responded to a call from a home where a terribly sick and very wild cat was hiding in the bush.
On arrival, we were met by a mottled, scab-covered and very angry cat, hissing, spitting and thrashing his paws. We had no doubt he’d bite if he got the chance. He also had deep lacerations to his back leg, high into his pelvis, and the injury was already septic. He was very old and had already lost some teeth. He was also emaciated and dehydrated. It seemed the kindest option would be euthanasia.
Healing Mousse
But, our vet did her magic on his leg, initially treating it open to clear out all the severe infection and then stitching and pulling as much of the damaged muscle and skin together as possible. It was touch and go. In fact, even if he survived this injury, there was no guarantee that he would ever walk again.
And so it was that Mousse came into our home. Not actually to live and stay in a forever place but just until he healed and until we could tame him enough to be able to home him.
Weeks went by; his leg started to heal, and he ate well and grew strong. His coat grew out, glossy and chocolate brown, thick and shiny - like a delicious chocolate mousse. His body was healing, and physically he was thriving, but each time we entered the room, he would jump at us, bite, scratch and terrify the entire household.
To tame a tiger
We put him into my daughter’s en-suite bathroom, determined to tame him. We thought having people around might make him realise we meant him no harm, but his steely eyes shone at night, leaving my daughter terrified to go to the toilet. His growls made the floor shudder, and it seemed we’d never be able to touch him, let alone tame him.
It was at this stage that Steve Smit started sitting with him whilst he fed him. At first, as far away as was needed to make Mousse comfortable enough to approach the bowl for his meal, but gradually Steve inched closer and closer. Unnerved by the fast rushes he’d get from the angry kitty, he eventually held his hand on the bowl as Mousse ate.
Steve did emerge proud and smiling, but his hand was dripping blood. ‘Progress’, he said. Madness, I thought.
From there, it wasn’t plain sailing, but eventually, Mousse let us hold him, cuddle him, squish him, and even kiss him, but never touching his legs and always careful around his tummy. We’ve learnt to love him in the way he wants to be loved, and now he comes to us demanding love. In fact, he’d sit on my lap all day if my lap remained still.
King of cats
He has installed himself as the head of the cat clan. He’s the enforcer, and the younger cats know he rules.
I love him more than I can express. He’s a very regal old man. He commands respect from all the other cats, even the dog, and especially from us. He deserves the respect - he’s no ordinary cat at all!
Since rescuing him, he’s become the most loyal of the animals that share our home. Every day when we arrive home, no matter how many times a day that is, he’s there to greet us. He slowly makes his way up the driveway, looks at me and gives his signature silent meow. That’s to remind me to put everything down, lift him carefully up and carry him to the front door. He pushes his entire body into my chest, passing all the love he can to me, sharing himself with me.
He’s old, really old now. When we got him, he was already old, but he just lives on and on. Since surviving whatever it was that left him at death’s door when we rescued him, he’s had a stroke that left him slightly paralysed on one side. He’s also survived an attack by a dog in which he clung to the dog’s face clawing into him until the dog let go and ran away. He’s cantankerous and moody but still so very brave and, most of all, very loving.
He was not meant to stay; he was meant to be found a loving forever home, but he stayed. He found his place to retire. He chose us. And who are we to deny him? This is his loving forever home, and I hope he really does live forever.
