It's actually "Bon Ami", not "Bonami". It's French for "good friend", but I didn't name the feral cat Bonami because he was a good friend, I named him that because the first time that he showed up in my backyard he was skinny, skittish, extremely dirty and in desperate need of a bath. Did I associate a dirty cat with the soap? I did not, actually. Growing up in Mexico City, there was a drunk homeless man who hung out at our block who was nicknamed "Bonami" - because he was rather dirty and well... he was "in desperate need of a bath". So, when the cat kept coming back and I began to routinely feed him, because he was looking the way that he did, I instantly thought of "Bonami". (A little disclaimer, the original Bonami eventually got off the streets, got sober, got a job, married and raised kids!)
To be honest, I did not know where to being to tell this story. Should I open up with a tacky cheesy paragraph about a messenger who brought to me a lesson and an opportunity to learn more about myself? Or should I go down the even tackier path about the miracle that this journey and the adoption process turned out to be? Or maybe I should start by admitting what a horribly pet owner I am and to question why on earth would I want a third cat? A young cat at that! My two cats, Jimmy and Amy, are 12 and 10 respectively, and I had already made a promise to myself that I would not get anymore pets and I would simply wait out for these two to move on so that I would be pet-less and have more flexibility in terms of relocation and vacationing without stress. What happened to all that?
Perhaps after all, this is a story about a miracle, about a messenger and a story about learning about myself.
Sunny October days in California are not unusual. It was one of those days in 2019. I think it was a Sunday and I was trying to be productive and getting chores done around the house. Laundry. Dishes. Make the bed. Pull up the shades to allow some of that sunshine into the bedroom with its window looking out into the backyard. I don't spend a lot of time in my backyard, to be honest, and in the absence of "human presence" a lot critters tend to make the back deck their home. At one time, there had been a racoon that had taken up residence underneath it, the squirrels are often attacking the barely-existing grass. A few years back the gardener had pointed out to me that he had seen a cat mama with her kittens come out from underneath the deck. So it was no surprise to me when I pulled up the shades, on that sunny October Sunday, that I spotted yet another cat mama and her five kittens coming from underneath the deck.
Growing up I never liked cats. I don't know when and how I ended up living with cats. And here you had me immediately running outside with a bowl of water and food for the tiny gang. I sat down next to the kittens who were all quite friendly minus an albino one that was hiding under the deck. All others, including the mother, allowed me to pet them and ate the offerings. Now, we all know that one of the first golden rules of feral animals is: Do not feed. Do not name. Because once you do either of those... They are yours.
I tried to call up a rescue group to come get the kittens, but they were not very prompt to reply. For the next few days, I continued to put food and water for them while I awaited to hear from one of the many organizations I had contacted. Unfortunately, between the day of my discovery and some days later, the mama had moved on and had taken her kittens with her, and in her place, a dirty skittish other cat had taken to eating the food I was putting out there. And thus, began my chaotic relationship with Bonami.
In no time, Bonami became incredibly friendly with me. He would let me pet him and he would even come into the garage when I would step outside to feed him. He had made himself very much at home in my backyard, but because I had seen him jump the fence sometimes I assumed that maybe he was someone else's cat and he was just coming over for food. You may be familiar with the intelligence of cats, and their ability to incorporate themselves into your routine - or perhaps they will alter or ruin your routine. Bonami quickly learned that at 5:30 AM, the lights to the kitchen would come on and it would be feeding time. As soon as I had flipped the light switch, I would see his cute little face on the other side of the French doors leading to the backyard.
Bonami was so incredibly affectionate towards me that I quickly became attached. They were right you know? Don't feed and name them, dang it. Else they'll be yours! Well, in a way he was mine and I was ready to start the process of somehow turning him into an indoor cat. I once again called one of those crazy-cat-lady organizations in hopes of getting some tips of how to get him fixed and tested for diseases before trying to bring him in. Because he was so friendly and trusting about coming into the garage, I made the assumption that he would easily adapt to becoming an indoor cat - assuming that he was not owned by anyone.
So, I began my first short-lived effort to adopt him. One night in early November, I was able to fool him into going into a pet carrier with some treats, and I took him to the vet to have him scanned for a microchip, which he did not have. I was one step closer to making him mine!! So, it seemed. The next step would be for me to post about him on Nextdoor and Facebook and see if anyone claimed him. No claims. The crazy-cat-lady organization had actually been able to secure me an expedited appointment for November 16th with a neutering clinic where he would be fixed and also tested for other stuff.
In that Pre-Covid19 world, I was commuting for work to San Francisco Monday thru Friday. I would leave my house around 7 AM, take the train to the city one hour each way, and be back home around 7 PM or so. I had been told that I would have to keep Bonami separated for one day to let him heal, and of course there was the acclimation period that I would need to allow to socialize all three cats. I was worried about this process. In addition, the old house that I own doesn't have centralized air and the doors don't all close too good; I was worried that Bonami would have to spend hours in a cold room while I was away at work, or that the cats would be a able to push the doors open and that a bloodbath would ensue. Honestly though, the one thing that I was very hesitant about was whether Bonami used a litter box or that he would learn to use one.
I reached out to my spiritual advisor and asked her for advice on what to do, as I was not certain what or how I should go about this adaption/neutering process of a feral cat. She said something to me that at the time, made a lot of sense: "He is a free creature. Why do you want to take that away from him?". I thought a lot about that. True, very true. Why would I want to take his freedom away from him? I used to love looking out the French doors whenever I was in the kitchen and see him laying out in the sun, stretching out his boy along the fence or making himself into a fully little donut. Maybe it would be best if I remained simply his "bud" and I offered him food and let him come and go as he pleased. I wasn't sure what I would do about the situation, but all I knew is that the appointment date was getting closer and I had to make a decision. Well, on my birthday night that November 15th; one day before I was due to take in Bonami for his treatment, I fell off the wagon and had a night of debauchery and when I woke up the next day, I had already missed the appointment. The Crazy-Cat-Lady was pissed!! She was very upset that I had not kept my appointment, or that I had not had the decency to cancel the appointment. I meant to capture Bonami that morning and take him for his treatment, and I know that relapsing is no excuse, but that is exactly what happened. And I gave up on the process of getting neuter or trying to adopt him. He was free and I was going to let him be just that. But in a way, it was easier for me to just not take accountability for the little creature and "laisse faire".
Winter came and went and Bonami continued to show up for his meals. It was never clear to me whether the lived underneath my deck or he came from somewhere else. I remember the Winter of 2019 being quite cold and wet and all that didn't seem to phase Bonami. He just showed up all happy and made his way past the garage door, rub his face against my pants and meow a greeting here and there. That had became my routine, for the next year: Waking up at 5:30 and feeding Jimmy and Amy, and then putting on a jacket to make my way outside to feed my tenant.
But all along, I wanted to adopt Bonami. I kept on wondering how I could go about transitioning him into an indoor pet. I reached to several organizations for help and they all said that they could not help, that they were maxed out, that I was outside of their territory, blah blah blah. I was hoping to find a foster who would take him after his surgery and help me transition him and I would be willing to give him a home after that. I really did not know how to go about this transition. I also did not truly know if taking him in was the right thing to do. You know, I am not a very religious person, but as most all of us do, in our time of need we turn to the heavens and ask for guidance. I asked my High Power to please send me a signal and let me know what the hell I was supposed to do with this situation. Was I meant to adopt Bonami? I literally waited for the clouds to split apart and for some old man with a big white beard to reach down and speak to me: "Yes Queen! He's meant to be yours!". That never happened, and if God did send me a signal, I honestly did not pick up on it.
So, a whole year went by and Jimmy and Bonami seemed to have developed some form of camaraderie thru the French door glass. Amy was another story. She was not having it! She would charge and swat against the glass rather violently. Very unnerving. I can't tell you how many times I was started by the sudden noise of the commotion. Eventually Amy calmed a little bit, but there was also a bit of resistance on her part about the other creature.
Cue in the pandemic n early 2020. I am now working from home and Bonami is now showing up at 5:30 AM, 10AM, 4PM and 8PM. Like clockwork. He's now fat as a cow and I think I am to be blamed. I am such a cheap-ass and because he was not "my" cat, I did not want to spend more on buying more of the expensive cat food I fed my two indoor cats, so I bought him this giant bag of kibble from the pet store for $15. That stuff most be the equivalent of a Big Mac because Jimmy and Amy would howl for some of it - which I sometimes give to them as small treat.
Winter ended, Spring bloomed, Summer roasted and an unseasonably warm Fall creeped thru as we continue to be sequestered. On December 22nd of 2020, I went outside around 4PM to feed Bonami and he showed up limping. It didn't look that bad and I assumed that perhaps his fat ass had twisted his paw trying to jump a fence or something. The next day I had an eye appointment and I shared about his injury with a friend of mine who was my ride home after the appointment and who also has cats and she suggested that I'd give it a few days as cats tend to heal very quickly from injuries. The next day was Xmas Eve and I had not seen Bonami all morning and when I went outside at noon to call him and feed him, after waiting for him for a while he eventually limped his way from under the deck, and came to get his chow. His limping had gotten much worse and I could see that he was in a lot of pain. He still greeted me and rubbed his face against my hand and gave me head bumps. It was at that moment that I realized that I had to do something. I had already turned my back on him that last November of 2019 when I missed the neutering appointment and had chosen to just let things play out. To be honest, I once again had decided that I would not take accountability for the injured cat. That it was a minor injury and the would be okay.
Would he be okay though?
I could not do that again. I had to do something to help him out. I once again fooled him into limping into the pet carrier and I was able to trap him. I brought him into the house and put him a room while I got busy calling all the vets in the area and see which one would be willing to see us. Not one of them would. I mean, it was Xmas Eve day at around noon. I was freaking out. I had an angry cat in a carrier, pissing all over the place and howling bloody murder. I called the Crazy-Cat-Lady from that one November and asked for her help. "Remind me who you are, again?" she asked. "I am Jose. Remember, last year I tried to take Bonami in to get him neuter?" I replied. "Oh, you mean, the one that didn't show up?" Bitch. "Is that all that you remember about me?" I went on to explain to her the situation and asked for he advice and she mentioned that I could take him to Sage Veterinarian Hospital in Concord and that they would see him, but that it would be pricey, but that if the bill was out of my budget, that I could surrender the cat.
One of things that I learned about myself from this experience, is how I go about decision making in times of stress. I went to Sage with Bonami and I surrendered him. Just like that. I took him to the place and told the woman I had an injured animal and that I wanted to turn him in. The nice lady that took Bonami asked me a few question, got a name and phone number and told me that once she took him that they would not be able to provide me with any updates aside from calling to provide me with an animal ID before before he was transferred to Contra Costa Animal Services. I said okay. Walked to the car and nearly had a melt down. What had I just done?
In a way, that kind of put a damper on my Xmas holiday. From the minute that I got back home and I saw the little things of his that I had accumulated in the garage, my heart completely broke. There was his bag of "Big Macs", his flea brush, his flea meds, his little towel with remnants of hair. What had I done? What if they put him down? How could I get him back? Will be he okay?
I waited for a call from Sage with a pet ID, but no one ever called. For the next two weeks, I obsessed checking the Contra Costa Animal Services website to see if by chance they posted him for adoption. More than anything, I really wanted to know that he was okay. It broke my heart to have simply had handed him over and had no closure. Several times a day I checked for an adoption posting for him until I stated to lose hope and accept that maybe I would never see him again.
Then, on Friday morning January 8th I went to check the website one last time and saw a posting for a sad looking two year old tuxedo male cat, with no name, ready for adoption. I could not mistake those crazy eyebrows of his. That was Bonami! I immediately called the shelter and inquired about adopting him. The woman on the phone said to me that yes, I could adopt him but that I had to complete an application online. I did just that. I was told that someone would reach out to me in one to three business days. Okay, I'll follow the protocol and will patiently wait some more. The next day I get a call from the adoptions counselor and we talk for about an hour about the situation and I told her the story of how Bonami ended up at Sage. She thought this would be a good home for Bonami and so she approved the adoption that Saturday morning and told me that one of their admins would call me soon to do the paperwork and pay the $25 adoption fee. About two hours later, a young woman called me, but not to handle the paperwork, but to tell me that unfortunately, Bonami (who they had name Stallone) had been picked up that morning by a rescue organization. WHAT THE FUCK!??!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I had never cursed a non-profit like that before!! So now, here you have me calling, emailing, Facebooking and Instagraming this organization East Bay Animal Rescue to try to find Bonami and secure his adoption. I was desperate to get him home. I missed his little face looking thru the French door so much; every time that I went to the kitchen I would immediately check to see if he was there and my heart would break at the realization that he wasn't, I had surrendered him to the hospital. How very sad. Although friends had tried to convince me that I had done the right thing, I was heart broken because I had chosen to not take accountability for Bonami and chosen not to foot the emergency room vet bill.
Finally, I was able to get a hold of the woman that runs EBARR and get approved for the adoption. After a lot of finagling about paperwork, paying the $150 adoption fee and playing phone tag, I finally made arrangements to drive to Oakley and pick up Bonami and bring him home on Tuesday January 12th at 8 PM. The woman had offered to bring him to me on Saturday, but the poor thing had been moved around so much and had been thru so much in the past two weeks that it was crucial for me to bring him and get him settled. Of course they neutered him and also tested him for ailments and all that jazz, and his medical record did say that he had been treated for an abscess on his right paw, the one on which he had been limping. My decision making process probably wasn't ideal, but I am glad that I trapped him and took him in to get treated, because I don't know where this would have ended had he not been seen by a doctor.
The past two weeks have not been fun really. The stress level at home has been thru the roof, for all four of us. Lots of adapting and rearranging for everyone. Jimmy seems to have made peace with Bonami's presence (although after having gotten his ass kicked twice), but Amy is not having it. She is vigilant and is making sure that Bonami respects her as the queen and leader. I don't expect this to be an easy and comfortable adaptation, but I do hope that in the end, we can all get along and settle in. Another thing that I learned about myself thru this process is how I handle stress, how I resolve conflict, how I cho0se the easy way out, how I don't follow direction and how I am very very impatient.
I do worry that perhaps Bonami would be best suited in a single cat household. We will see. I am going to work on this situation for a while longer. I have faith that things will be alright.
So much for my plan to travel and move into a small apartment in the city. I am now the proud owner of a two-year old cat (Turkish Angora?).
Wish us luck!!!
