Back in July, I posted on Connect-Bridgeport that a tiny tabby kitten had been found. I didn’t expect anyone to claim him. He was malnourished and badly mangled. After discovering the little guy under our grill on the back deck of our house, my husband and sons had him in a box on the front porch when I arrived at our Cole Avenue home that day. (Bordering/nearby streets are Olive, Summit, Pennsylvania Avenue, Worthington Drive and Circle Drive.) 

 

We honestly didn’t think he would make it. He was so weak that we had no idea how he made it up on our deck and past our protective Siberian Husky. He couldn't even lift his little head up to take a drink of water. It was really hot outside that day. 

 

While tending to the little golden cat, I became quite attached to him. He 

soon started eating and drinking and I regularly nurtured his wounds and bathed him. I treated his little eyes and ears. He didn’t seem to mind any of it. After dressing him in a cobalt blue collar – one equipped with a bell so we knew where he was - he looked like a striped little Mountaineer fan. I named him Mojo. Luck seemed to be on his side.

 

Early on, he had some kind of attack one day while I was cleaning and treating him. We thought he was dying. I was in tears. My husband - who doesn't as a rule love cats - literally blew air into his little mouth and lungs. He perked right up. 

 

Ultimately, Mojo recovered well, except for his front right paw. Despite oral and topical antibiotic, it just wasn't healing. And it smelled so bad. I went through several rolls of gauze and medical tape - as well as dozens of baby socks to keep it covered. We often broke out in a chorus of "Smelly Cat," the silly song made famous by Phoebe during Seasion 2 of "Friends."

 

After a couple visits to the veterinarian, we decided the paw couldn’t be saved and it was subsequently amputated from the top joint. They had to shave Mojo's whole right side, but his hair grew back quickly and as he recovered, he got around better than ever. Because of his three-legged foundation, one of my boys suggested we rename him "Tripod."

 

The surgery was pricey, but the vet cut us a little break and because he had been a stray, the Humane Society of Harrison County pitched in. I thought that was a wonderful gesture.

 

Mojo weighed just over a pound when he came to us. He now tips the scales at about 8 pounds and according to our guestimates, he's about 9 months old. He is a loved member of our family. He is extremely playful and has adapted well to having just three paws. When playing, he uses his mouth to make up for the missing front limb. He balances and jumps like a champ. He has filled out and is a beautiful cat with an extremely healthy appetite. He is a lover and avid cuddler. If someone is relaxing in the family room, he’s right beside them – or on top of them. He has the loudest purr. Our little grandchildren all love him and want to hold him constantly. He is as curious as they come. I’ve caught him on video playing our toy piano, swatting at Christmas decorations and even trying to help me with my work. Hmm. Bet he really could write a book. After all, he had used two of his nine lives already. 

 

He and our dog Shasta are buddies. They sleep together and even eat out of the same bowl. 

That is unheard of for our alpha dog. Why she took to him like that, we will never know. And we may also never find out where he came from, but we sure would like to. 

 

We suspected at first that Mojo had been attacked by an animal, but the vet thought maybe he had been caught in a piece of machinery, car engine or even a trap.

 

We would love to know if someone helped him to safety or had seen him prior to or after his accident. He is now happy and healthy and follows a long line of kitties who have been raised in our household.

 

If you know anything about our mysterious Mojo, please let me know!

 

Julie Perine can be reached at julie@connect-bridgeport.com or 304-848-7200 extension 2.