The Great Sicilian Cat Rescue

by Jennifer Pulling

  Not all these stories have such satisfactory endings. Some are left unfinished and continue to nag.

  Dawn contacted me, wondering if anything could be done to help a small sick cat: ‘The poor creature has scratched itself bald in places and sits hunched up with its tongue hanging partially out and drooling a small amount of yellow/pink-brown liquid. It seems to be obtaining food from inside the gate of the local residence where two other healthy cats live but now seems to be shut outside and looks in a bad state.’

  The couple went to nearby Qua La Zampa and tried to make themselves understood, using a pre-recording on a translation app. However, as Dawn said: ‘We didn’t get very far due to the language barrier but the lady seemed to be pointing us in the direction of the Corso and mentioned the police. I bought a couple of pouches and the cat has eaten one, this evening.’

  On my advice, they called Oscar La Manna. He told them he would come out to check on the cat if they could capture it.

  Later, when I talked to Dawn, she said: ‘We were both very tired after a difficult year and this was supposed to be a relaxing holiday but we ended up worrying about Lionel, as I called him, most of the time.’

  Although Lionel seemed quite friendly, she doubted if she could catch him without a cat carrier. They had planned a trip to Etna the following day, so I told them, meanwhile, I would call a friend, one of the rarer gattaro (or cat men).

  Carmelo runs a garage backing onto a yard that throngs with cats. He is a dedicated cat lover and spends much of his salary on feeding and caring for them. Yes, he said, if the couple came round in the early evening, they could certainly borrow a carrier.

  My plan failed. Returned from Etna, Dawn and her boyfriend were ravenous and went for a meal before negotiating the dark roads to the garage. They were too late: Carmelo had shut the garage and gone home.

  Time was now running out, for the couple were due to leave a day later. They had been keeping an eye on the house where the cats roamed and noticed a woman coming and going.

  ‘We are unsure of her involvement and have not previously approached her, as we didn’t know whether we would be able to communicate.’

  They were feeling confused because of this problem with language. Did the woman own Lionel or was he sneaking in to feed with the other two, healthy-looking cats? Meanwhile, Oscar was standing by for their call. I explained the situation to him and sent Dawn his reply.

  ‘These are Oscar’s thoughts: if the cat is sick and is a feral it needs care. Even if someone feeds it they would be happy that it was being given treatment.’

  She remained unconvinced. ‘I would prefer to know whether the lady owns the cat before we proceed, as I am still worried about a confrontation and nobody being available to interpret in the event. I am also conscious the time is ticking by and not sure how long Oscar will be available now. Would he be available tomorrow, if necessary?’

  In the end, they were faced by the situation I know so well, that of having to pack up and leave with the question hanging over them: what will happen to that cat now?

  Sure enough, Dawn continued to agonise over Lionel after her return to England: ‘I have felt so helpless concerning Lionel, as I called him. I just wish it would have been possible for someone to have called over and assisted us in getting an expert opinion with a view to making him more comfortable. I feel so sad for him, but realise his case is just the tip of the iceberg. He was there on the step yesterday evening as usual at about 5pm and we gave him a pouch, which he gobbled down. We saw him again on the step at 11pm when we returned from the town centre, which was to be the last time – he wasn’t there this morning to give him a pouch, as planned. It is hard not to think about him and it makes me realise how lucky Kenny is – it is lovely to have him home.’

  I, too, found it difficult to get the image of Lionel out of my mind. So I racked my brains and finally contacted Eleanor, an English friend and gattara who lives in Taormina and looks after twenty cats of her own. Could she find time to go along and clarify things? She promised to do her best and later wrote to me:

  Yesterday afternoon I finally managed to locate Lionel, sitting in a plant pot in the garden at 23a Dietro Cappuccini, looking rather poorly. I guessed he was probably getting fed by the owners, seeing as he was sitting in there, behind the fence. I wanted to speak to the owners to ask if he was their cat, but didn’t know which bell to ring.

  Luckily, I met Chiara, who lives in the same street and she said she knows you. She told me that the people who live in that house are nice and also animal lovers, and kindly volunteered to come with me to enquire.

  We spoke to a nice gentleman who confirmed that Lionel is a stray and said that his father feeds him. I explained that Dawn wanted to help Lionel and has given a donation for veterinary fees, but he told me that Lionel has already been seen by a vet. He said that Lionel has had bad dysentery, and that is why he is so thin and has his tongue sticking out. Apparently, he is being given some pills for it, but he looked like he desperately needed to be on a drip to me.

  Now I don’t know what to think or do. To be honest, Jenny, Lionel looked to me to be on his last legs. The man spoke of bad dysentery and him having had bad diarrhoea, but I think it’s due to something else, probably some organ failure. I’ve seen nearly all of my cats that have passed away go the same way.

  I could organise trying to capture Lionel and get him to Oscar, but I don’t really know if it’s worth it. In these circumstances, any vet will do blood analysis and at best maybe diagnose kidney failure. They will keep the animal in a cage for therapy, which is very expensive and the animal usually dies anyway. I think it’s an unpleasant end, especially for a feral cat who isn’t used to being indoors in a strange chemically-smelling environment.

  I asked the lady if they wouldn’t like a second opinion on Lionel, especially seeing as the costs would be covered by Catsnip, but they seemed convinced that Lionel was being taken care of and is being given something for his condition.

  And there I had to leave the story of Lionel. There is a limit to how much we outsiders can interfere. However, I am grateful to Helen, Michael, Susan and Dawn for stopping to help these creatures instead of just walking away.

  As Oscar La Manna said later: ‘It is fortunate that there are these animal lovers who give a hand and try to help these feral animals, taking them to us vets who cooperate by giving them the right treatment at a ridiculously low price.’

  I’ve known Oscar for a year, but only comparatively recently have I realised what a truly remarkable and almost unique Sicilian vet he is. How did he become a vet, I asked him, and how does he deal with the general attitudes towards animals in Sicily?

  ‘Ever since I was a boy I had a passion for every kind of animal, including insects that I loved to touch. Once, I brought an entire ants’ nest into the house. Thus, when I grew up, I chose to become a vet and, if I had that choice again, I would do it a thousand times over.

  ‘However, after twenty years of working in the field here, I feel under-valued and limited in what I can do. I have discovered many things but the first and enormous lesson I have learned is that more than 50 per cent of animal owners in Sicily are ignorant and a threat to their animals because, at the very first hurdle, particularly economic, they are ready to abandon them. It would need the vet’s presence in schools to teach children that animals merit respect; they are not toys that one can throw away, they are living beings that need caring for, even if it turns out to be expensive. Thus, those who know they can’t afford it should never take on an animal because it will put the two of them at risk.

  ‘If one doesn’t have an income, it is necessary to be objective and not endanger the life of a companion animal – much better never to bring one into the house.

  ‘Unfortunately, civilisation will never arrive here, the people are too stupid and convinced they are right and teach their own children this erroneous stupidity and egoism.

  ‘In your country, England, things are v
ery different – there is order, services, much more civilisation.

  ‘Here, there is nothing left for me but to fight this infinite ignorance in order to defend these defenceless little animals from the cruel hands of men who are uncivilised and egoistic.’

  As Oscar has said to me: ‘It is fortunate for the feral cats that at least some of us freelance vets are concerned about them and at our own expense take care of them.’

  The volunteers of OIPA I’ve mentioned several times before are another dedicated team of animal lovers, scattered across Sicily. Then there are people like Valeria Cundari and her volunteers at the ARCA refuge, overflowing with unwanted animals. Their daily battle is horrendous; fighting ignorance and downright cruelty, trying to cope with the over-population of cats and dogs. How they would welcome the very different approach of Trieste in Northern Italy.

  THIRTY-FIVE

  The Cat Sanctuaries of Trieste

  The city where James Joyce once lived and wrote has two complementary cat shelters that many local people trust, admire and support. Il Gattile is a safe haven for needy and ailing cats. Located in the city centre just behind the courthouse, it was formerly one of Trieste’s old houses, which always had interior courtyards; one wall is actually shared with the city’s jailhouse. Since 1992, Il Gattile has welcomed many cats from feral colonies, a daily duty for the volunteers who tirelessly dedicate their lives to these needy animals. Many of the felines are found in the street in a very bad condition, others are abandoned and left to this vagabond life.

  At L’oasis Felina on the outskirts of the city, 155 cats roam happily and undisturbed in an enclosed and protected green space. Unless they are adopted and go to loving homes, they will live out their lives here in peace. When cat colonies are displaced because of construction work, they can be relocated here.

  I first heard about this animal-friendly city when I contacted Kathy via her website, catsinitaly, for possible help with Helen’s foundling kitten. She was quick to respond, although, happily, little Gavroche found a kindly home. An American-Asian, Kathy has lived in Italy for many years with her Italian husband, Giorgio.

  As she told me, the veterinary school in Vienna is the oldest in Europe, and Trieste, close to the Austrian border, is very much influenced by the Austro-Hapsburg attitudes where animals are concerned. The tradition of caring for animals goes back a long way. Since the early 1900s, for example, it has been obligatory to provide bowls of water outside shops for animals to drink from.

  Kathy related the story of her life with cats and how she became involved with them. She met Giorgio at university in the States and, later, they moved abroad. As an engineer he has been posted to various parts of Italy. It wasn’t until they arrived in Trieste in 2008 that she became a volunteer at Il Gattile.

  ‘I guess I was a normal person until then,’ she laughed. ‘I had never worked with animals in my life before. I just had two cats, now they have taken over my life.’

  ‘I have two special wards at present: a twenty-year-old colony cat who is blind and deaf. She’s had her cage door open now for ten days, but hasn’t come out by herself yet. I work with her senses of smell and touch; she loves fresh sardine fillets and I let her know I’m there by tapping on the cage floor so she can feel the vibrations. I don’t touch her, not yet. Today at noon, you should have seen her come out of her curled-up lethargy when she smelled the fish!

  ‘My other feral ward was thought to be an aggressive spitty meany; he’s just a timid, fearful, streetwise cat. This unneutered tom came in with an open abscess on the whole of his left cheek; he’d been living out in the park for about a year like that. The gattara tried to trap him, unsuccessfully, three or four times during the course of the year. Eventually, Magna was brought in at the end of March. He still has about a month to go with his therapy. We recently let him free in the room and he lived, terrified, for ten days under the cages. So I put him back in a luxury top-floor (third cage up), with views out to the sunny courtyard and views through the glass door, where he watches our ninety or so cats go up and down the stairs to the attic living quarters.

  ‘When he first arrived, he was very hissy and angry. It took me ten days before he was eating out of my hand. On the way back from a few days at the vets for laser therapy, he was still anesthetised, I coo-ed while walking back to Il Gattile. Once back, I stroked the length of his body several times; that was to leave my smell on him. Sure enough, the next day he looked at me differently – with recognition? With warmth? Affectionately? And I hadn’t opened the can of salmon cat food yet.

  ‘I didn’t see him for a week, and at noon I went up on the stepladder to his cage and he was fine with me entering his space. And he ate some sardine fillets from my fingers.’

  This cattery is obviously a hive of activity. Some of Kathy’s special duties are keeping the admission/release information up to date for the sick cats (twenty-four cages). Spay/neuter campaign and adoption records are kept separately by another volunteer (twenty-six cages).

  ‘I do one cleaning shift a week, this entails making sure volunteers will be present, usually about five or six. I also deal with adoptions, field telephone calls, handle emergencies and receive visitors and donors at the door.

  ‘I maintain the Facebook page and website, and provide a lot of the photos and graphics work. My work with cat handling involves transferring from trap to cage and vice versa, cleaning cages which house cats that are extremely feral and those with special needs, such as bone fractures.

  ‘I foster feral kittens in my home; summer in Italy is the time when we rescue so many of them. Having spent three weeks in my foster guest-room, three kittens went to their new home, last night. Whew! And the remaining two brothers will be going to the cat sanctuary. I have just taken them down for the weekend to Il Gattile, where I volunteer. Who knows, the perfect people might wander in? If not, they will have a lovely, protected garden where they will mix with other cats and kittens. I help in the decision of whether they’d be happier if people adopt them or living at the cat sanctuary. Rarely and if they’re big enough, I may be able to convince the gattara/o to take them back in their particular feline colony.’

  The tranquil lives of these cats, so lovingly cared for, is currently threatened by the town hall’s decision to relocate the fruit and vegetable market onto land occupied by the sanctuary. This news swiftly mobilised the entire district of Borgo San Sergio, its neighbourhood committee comprising the local residents, campers from the also threatened site, and the volunteers of Il Gattile. They have launched an online petition asking town councillors and the mayor to change their plan. This followed a town hall announcement that the sanctuary would be moved to an adequate neighbouring area, but the volunteers remain concerned. How can such a transfer be effected? And above all, why pollute this green space, with traffic coming and going, noise and refuse from the market?

  In sharp contrast to the often contempt with which the gattare are viewed in Sicily, Trieste honours them. Every year, the Il Gattile Association awards a prize to a woman, acknowledging her work in rescuing and caring for feral cats. The award was instituted in 2001 to celebrate the birthday of Margherita Hack, a prime mover in the foundation of Il Gattile. In 2014, it was given not to a gattara but to the threatened L’oasis Felina, the space that Margherita loved so much, during her lifetime.

  THIRTY-SIX

  Sadie, Katarina and the Incredible Rescue of a Blind Kitten

  This is the story of Katarina, of how a small Sicilian cat brought Catsnip, Oscar and Elke together, to the rescue. Above all, it is the story of Sadie and her determination to save the blind feline.

  Francavilla is a typical small Sicilian town, approximately ten miles inland from the coastal resort of Taormina, with spectacular views. Although much of the town is now fairly modern, you can still see signs of former times, with the ruins of the one-time castle overlooking the inhabitants, and the old winding streets that evoke images of its medieval past. Nearby is the famous Alc
antara Gorge, where an impressive torrent of water rushes below vertical lava cliffs. Located on the north slopes of Mount Etna, the river is one of the few in Sicily that flows year round. Several thousand years ago, its path was blocked by a large lava flow from the volcano’s slopes. The cold water quickly cooled the lava, which resulted in its crystallising and forming the unique rocky columns. Over the next few thousand years, the river carved a path through those columns and resulted in the gorge.

  If you like to explore, there are numerous trails where you can hike along the top of the gorge. And if you are looking to cool off, you can relax at Gorge Beach. The easy way to get down into the gorge is to take the lift; for the more adventurous there are stairs. There is a gorge trail that follows the river upstream and offers wonderful views from the top. It takes you through the botanical gardens and citrus groves, where you can sit and stare. Here you can gaze into the heart of the gorge and the waterfalls from the beach, so don’t be afraid to explore. The water is advertised as being cold but in the heat of the summer it is very refreshing. No wonder it is a popular spot with locals during the scorching Sicilian summers.

  Sadie and her boyfriend Eddie had arrived here to stay for a night or two on a farm, the so-called agriturismo. From the 1950s and continuing through the 1970s, small-scale farming in Italy came under threat. Many farmers abandoned their land to search for work in larger towns. But Italians value highly the traditions and produce of small-scale food manufacturers, and, by 1985, a law was passed defining agriturismo. Many abandoned buildings and estates were restored, some for holiday homes, and many for this kind of tourism. It allowed the small farmer to augment the income from the farm, and for holidaymakers to sample the bounty of a rural life in Italy.

  It all seemed idyllic and very relaxing until the couple noticed that one of the farm cats seemed to be bumping into things and falling down steps.