We arrived at Live Oak Ranch, near Merkel TX, in the early afternoon. Our friends, Steven & Linda (of The Chouters & Bijou) were home for the holidays (taking a break from their European travels) and we could not pass by the opportunity to spend some time with them. They were excited we were coming and had given us lots of details about ranch life, including an unusually friendly barn kitty, who Linda’s Mother had (sort of) named Fonzi.

Arriving got a bit complicated. The GPS found the address, but Linda had taken the time to text me directions, so I felt like that was how we should go. Well, the directions were 100% correct except for the exit number! HA! After a while, it started feeling wrong, so I called. After a few dropped calls (due to a bad signal on both sides) we finally accurately described where we were and they were able to catch up with us at a corner – it was so good to see Toadie (their Chevy Sonic) when we came around a bend!

We followed them and quickly got settled, next to the huge beautiful Live Oak tree the ranch is named for. Happy hour commenced. It was so nice to relax and enjoy the quiet peacefulness looking out at their front yard. While sitting and catching up, we met the little orange kitty that we had heard some much about. He immediately took a liking to Bill, jumping up on his lap and accepting any and all affection being offered. His purring was so loud for such a tiny kitty! We discussed how Fonzi didn’t seem to suit him, and we all agreed that Simba was a much better name for him.

Cooking shared meals, happy hours, game playing and relaxing were how we spent our days. Linda and I headed into town one day. Nothing terribly exciting happened, not even on New Year’s Eve; except we all managed to stay awake to welcome in 2020.

Over the course of the few days we were there, it became increasingly apparent that Bill was becoming very attached to Simba, and Simba was becoming very attached to Bill. Since losing our beloved Cocoa and Raskal, back in 2015, we had talked a few times about getting another pet, but the time just never seemed right. Finally, when we were due to leave the following day, I just took it upon myself (with some encouragement from Linda) to bring Simba into the RV. Bill was sitting in his chair with his morning coffee. He looked up to say something to me and saw that I had Simba in my arms. His face said it all – Simba was ours! I believe his words were something to the effect of “Now look what you’ve done!”

Callie (our 10-year-old torti Maine Coon mix) was less than enthusiastic at the prospect of a little brother. She was curious, but ultimately hissed, spit and growled at him. Knowing she is a pretty chill kitty, I suspected with some time, she would get used to him.

The big test, the potential deal-breaker, was would they would share a litter box? We had a fairly good size one, but if they wouldn’t share then Simba would have to stay at Live Oak. So, I stood Simba in front of the box and scooted him in. He pawed around a bit and then peed. YAY! Now, would Callie go in after him and use it. She and Raskal shared one box for over a year after we sold our house (we had 3 boxes at the house), but she had been alone for 4 years, which is a long time in cat years. I tried to keep an eye out for her to use the box but didn’t see her go in before bed.

Since Callie sleeps on the bed, we were wondering where Simba would settle down. He jumped up on the bed and laid himself down right in the 3 – 4 inches in-between our pillows. Callie didn’t sleep at the top of the bed, like she usually does, but instead stayed down by our feet.

In the morning, I was just waking up when heard a cat in the little box! I turned to see who it was and Simba was still fast asleep – on Bill’s head! – so it was Callie using the box! AWESOME!

We got up and headed inside, leaving Simba with Callie. I figured if we were keeping him, we shouldn’t confuse the issue by bringing him back outside. Linda and Steven were so happy we decided to keep him! Linda’s Mom and Dad were also, as they had seen how much Bill and I loved him!

It was very difficult saying “see you later!” to our friends! They have an awesome blog The Chouters and Bijou that talks about their travels. They are currently in Europe. Look them up!

(I’ll talk more about our next stop and our trips to PA in a later post, just pulling out stuff related to Simba for this post)

Our next stop was our friend’s, Cori & Greg’s property, which we affectionately call “The Center for Mental Wellness.” We arrived there with our newest furry family member, and let me tell you – he did great in his crate! He was given Callie’s hand-me-down crate and Callie got a new one! Seemed only fair! He mewed for a few minutes, but then settled down and fell asleep, just like his big sister.

Over the course of the next several weeks, we just completely fell in love with this silly orange kitty. A trip to Walmart and PetSmart supplied us with new toys for our rambunctious little guy! He passed his first vet visit with flying colors, he didn’t even complain when he got his shots. He was so brave! The vet and her assistant were both shocked to learn he was born feral, and we only had him a week at that point! He purred and let them love on him. I scheduled him for his second round of shots and his surgery to get him neutered.

Even Callie finally decided he was ok, as her growling, spitting and hissing had all but stopped, probably about 2 weeks in. She was letting him sleep closer and closer to her. When he tried to get her to play, she tolerated it more and more each day.

The day came for his second set of shots. The vet did a quick exam first and then he was given two shots. He was, again, very brave, and didn’t complain. They told me, same as before, that he may be lethargic, not hungry, and just “out of sorts” for a couple of days. While he had no noticeable reaction the first time, this time he did seem “not himself”, so after a couple of days, I called to tell them. They said if he wasn’t better by the following morning, bring him in.

The following morning, I called and they told me to come in with him. They said he may still be sore from the shots and prescribed a pain med and another pill to stimulate his appetite. That night he ate a little tuna, but still wasn’t right.

When I got up the following morning, it was obvious something was not right. He seemed like he was struggling to breathe. I got in the car with him and started on my way to the vet, planning to arrive shortly after they opened. I called to let them know I was on my way. When I arrived, they took him right away. When the vet came out to get me, I knew it wasn’t good. She heard a heart murmur and he was having respiratory distress. She wanted me to bring him to the emergency vet, where they had oxygen kennels that would help him. They no longer thought it was a reaction to the shots. So, off we went to the ER vet, which thankfully was only a few miles up the road.

The receptionist was waiting for us when we came in. The first vet had called and told them we were coming. She took him immediately and said someone would be out to talk to me as soon as they examined him. After what felt like FOREVER (in reality, it was about half an hour) someone came out. They brought me back to a room and told me he was breathing better in the oxygen kennel and she also had heard the heart murmur. I didn’t understand why no one had heard it before today – could the shots have caused it? How could this happen? In order to get more answers, I signed a paper giving them permission to run lab tests and get x-rays. Then they brought me to see him. He was sleeping peacefully in the kennel. I was able to pet him through the little door, which was not unlike when a baby is in an isolette, except there wasn’t any glove. He purred and looked at me as if to say, “I feel better in here.”

I had talked to Bill to update him with what the ER vet said. He sounded so sad when I told him what was happening. I also texted Linda to let her know. I called my Mom. I called my daughter. I didn’t understand what was happening to our little boy.

The vet came out again to get me. The blood work wasn’t back yet, but they didn’t really need it as they did get his x-rays. She showed them to me and I didn’t need a DVM to know what I was seeing wasn’t normal. His heart was 4 times larger than it should be! Took up his entire rib cage. Without even hearing her words, I knew she was telling me there wasn’t anything they could do about that. I knew instantly we were losing our Simba.

Bill and I were devastated. In five short weeks, this little friendly feral barn kitty wiggled his way into our lives, and our hearts. He took over our lives. He may have only been 5 pounds, but he had personality! Enough for five cats!

It’s been 2 months since that terrible day. A lot had happened before that day that I haven’t blogged about yet, and a lot has happened since that I am still processing, but I didn’t want to skip over this. I wanted you to know about our little Simba, the little 5-pound friendly feral barn kitty that we got to love for a little while. RIP Simba – we love you!

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