First off, I purposely withheld certain information about Zulu.  Not sure how much it I’d like to share.  But the truth is, she’s not exactly a normal domestic cat.

She is a bengal cat.  Someone decided to cross-breed a domestic cat with an asian leopard cat (small exotic cat from, well, Asia.)  They wanted to beautiful markings from the wild with a temperment of a domestic.

The reason I haven’t mentioned it is because of what I’m about to say:  it’s bad.  It’s not normal.  It’s humans playing God and I think it’s revolting.

Please don’t tell me about bengals or other hybrids you knew that were perfectly well-adjusted.  I don’t want to hear it.

In order for bengals to be sold as a domestic breed, they must be at least four generations removed from the exotic cat.  That’s four generations, 80 years, of cats that are just thrown away.

It is not normal for a bengal to behave tamely either.  Many are scared, anti-social, and mean.  On top of that, they have mutitudes of genetic issues, usually trouble with their diet.  Cross a meat-eater with what has basically become a herbivore (take a look at the main ingredient of cat chow - wheat, corn, etc.) and you are bound to have problems.

Zulu is lucky I have access to complete carnivore diet.  She eats a little of both and fairs pretty well.

Zulu came to the sanctuary very young.  Other bengals that came with her were adopted out at that time to other volunteers.  She stayed, but came to live with me when she was diagnosed with cancer.  It is difficult sometimes, knowing I opened my home to an animal that is certain to pass away sooner than later.  But she is getting an awesome quality life until that happens.

Maybe a month ago, we started to notice that her right pupil was bigger than her left.  It grew until it almost took over her whole eye.  Then it started to get cloudy.

So, all this background and honesty is so that I can express how difficult these past few weeks have been.  She tolerates us touching her, but not picking her up.  We’ve had to crate her twice, have her examined, have her sedated, and try and put oitments in her eye.

This from a cat I’ve seen bite down a pole so hard that if it were my finger, you’d be calling me stubby right now.

Luckily, tests proved it was a detached lens that we can leave alone for now.  But almost as soon as we put the carrier away and tried to get back to a normal pattern, she seemed to get worse.  She wasn’t eating, wasn’t playing.  Of course she could barely stand to be in the same room as me - I’m the one doing all the mean things to her.

Today was the first day I’ve breathed easy looking in her general direction.  She’s holding that eye completely open.  She’s moving around the apartment a lot.  She’s eating.  And more importantly, she’s energetic enough for a sterile romp on the table with Roark. 

(He’s never shown any sexual interest in another animals - in fact, we always thought he was gay.  But he’ll hump her at the drop of the hat.  Of course, everyone’s fixed so the entire act looks a little silly and Zulu definitely looks confused and pissed off by the end.)

So, we’re still on Zulu watch.  But right now, we’ve downgraded to threat yellow.  Which probably means she’s about to spray on something.