IN FOCUS: News from Sutton Studios

Issue No. 26

August 2009

SPOTLIGHT

Grant and Ted
(click to enlarge)

Mac and Grant
(click to enlarge)

Then and Now
Several years ago, Jill Dortch decided to surprise her husband John on his first Father's Day with a portrait of their son Grant, then 6 months old, and Ted, their Pug. John was thrilled. "At the time Grant was...not yet able to sit upright on his own. Ted had been in the family for 3 years and was a very special dog indeed. Before we had Grant he was our "child." He had always been on the sickly side from birth and was somewhat challenged in the looks department. Nonetheless he was my special friend and loyal companion, and the picture was indeed the best present I could have ever received - my two favorite boys for posterity!

"Over the years the picture has given our family so much joy. It is always a conversation piece, hanging prominently over our mantle in the family room, and many times over the years friends of ours reported seeing the photo on television, in magazines and in mailings. In a special way my wife Jill and I feel we've been able to share the joy of our two boys with many people over the years. Let's face it, you can't look at the photo without smiling."

Time has passed and Grant is now 7 years old. John and Jill returned to Sutton Studios and reminisced, "Grant is the joy of our life. He is a very animated, outgoing little man and still loves his dog. Ted has since passed on, but thanks to Mr. Sutton's fantastic work he will always remain with us in this treasured photograph."

Grant now has his own best friend in Mac, a 4 year old pug. John, Jill, Grant, Mac and Tom (the cat) enjoyed every moment at Sutton Studios. John and Jill will always treasure their own THEN & NOW portraits.

"Thank you for the opportunity to re-create that special moment again as Grant continues to grow!"

Our framing partners

REFLECTION & REFRACTION

Sammie's Story

I've been busily preparing for a trip to do portrait sittings in Los Angeles, so this month's column has been guest-authored by my friends Ray and Carina Brennan of San José, California.

Pulling in for gas at a station near an expressway on San José's south side, with six lanes of traffic in every direction, we watched a white kitten nearly get run over in the station's driveway. Forgetting about gas for the moment, we pulled over to see if we could catch the little thing before he did, in fact, get run over. Another couple had seen the same thing and parked, also with the intention of saving the kitten from disaster.

The object of our collective attention decided that having survived the driveway, he would hole up under the exact center of a parked car. Looking under the car, we saw a pretty, nearly white kitten with a dark tail panting in fear or relief. Not seduced by gentle coaxing or food, he maintained his position with a wary, stoic eye on his would-be rescuers.

After some fifteen minutes of useless cajoling, the car's owner came out and explained that she had just gotten off work and had to go. She'd brought a mop handle and used it to drive the kitten out from under the car for us. The kitten scampered behind the station and hid in some bushes.

Because of our previous TNR (trap, neuter, return) mission on a campus with several unfixed ferals, we happened to have a large cat trap in the trunk of our car. The four of us were finally able to surround and actually catch the little guy and get him deposited into the cage.

The animal shelter was less than half a mile away, so we went there to drop him off. They were happy to take him, telling us they would hold him until at least Friday to see if he was determined to be adoptable. Asking whether we come back and get him if he was determined unadoptable, we were told no. Once we surrendered the kitten, we could not have him back later. The choice seemed clear. Leave him to a probable death sentence or take him with us. We took him home.

We put the trap in our guest bathroom, propped it open, set out food, water, a small litter box, and put a towel for him to sleep on inside a small box next to the cage. Clearly, this kitten was feral. Any effort to reach for him resulted in a hissing snarl. He was also flea-ridden feral with the added bonus of an ear mite infection. We picked up some kitten food and flea treatment. When left alone he would eat the food in the bathroom but wanted no part in having the flea stuff rubbed on the back of his neck. Looking online, we learned that feral cats could be seduced with baby food, specifically, chicken baby food.

It's true. For chicken baby food, he would venture close enough to hungrily lick the food off a spoon.

One thing that we couldn't understand was why he seemed uninterested in play. No feather wand or other toy was exciting enough to catch his attention. Stalking, pouncing, catching prey - isn't that what you'd expect from a kitten?

We really did not know what to do with him. We had agreed earlier on a one cat per bathroom limit, and that limit had been reached with the two females we already had in residence. Our best thought was to get the guy fixed and release him on campus where we were already caring for a feral we'd trapped, neutered, and returned a couple of years earlier.

With that still our operational theory, we took him back to the shelter on Tuesday morning, the day they ran a discount spay/neuter clinic for the county. They were swamped and had to keep the kitten, now named Sammie for his Siamese markings, overnight. It was late Wednesday afternoon before we had him home again. The paperwork that came home with Sammie identified him as a male, lynx-point Siamese mix weighing a whopping three pounds. The shelter volunteer guessed his age at five months.

Still planning to release him, we took him to our own vet on Friday for booster shots and a general check-up. Our vet, Dr. K., took one look at Sammie and gently informed us that this cat was in distress, and she could not give him shots until she knew what was wrong with him. Sammie was panting heavily, something he had never really stopped doing, but we had attributed this to fear. He was underweight - she guessed his age, based on his teeth, at nine months - and in no shape to risk giving him shots. Dr. K. was surprised that Sammie had survived anesthesia during his neutering procedure.

We agreed to a blood test, which came back negative for feline Leukemia and other life threatening conditions. That was a relief but not an answer. The next step was an x-ray. When the x-ray came back, it was so interesting that Dr. K. invited the techs to come look at it with us.

Apparently, Sammie had met a car before he had met us. He had a broken hip socket, and worse, his innards were a bit scrambled. His liver, spleen, and assorted parts had ruptured the diaphragm protecting his lungs. His guts were well north of where they should have been, and had reduced his single, working lung to functioning at about 10%. No wonder he was breathing with such difficulty and lacking energy for play!

Dr. K. explained to us that she did not perform this kind of surgery any longer, but if we were committed to seeing what could be done, there was a new surgical outfit in town we could take him to.

Over the weekend, Sammie continued to scarf all the baby food he was offered, but he still hissed every time the door was opened or either of us reached for him. We were concerned he was too feral to be socialized.

We took Sammie and his x-rays to the hospital on Monday. At the consult, the head veterinary surgeon told us that, though Sammie's innards were scrambled, and his hip socket was broken, they could fix him - rearranging his innards, re-inflating his lung, and repairing his hip all in one procedure. The estimate for the fix came in at just a shade over four grand. Before we could really process the number, he said, "but. . . ."

"But, this would be a great teaching case. Were you to agree to it, our intern would perform the surgery. I would be with him every step of the way, of course. As a teaching case, we'd do the whole thing, including post operative care and follow up for twelve hundred."

Well, $1,200 was not $4,000, and the alternative was to pay to have Sammie euthanized right then. Anything else would have been cruelty.

Sammie was a fighter; that much was clear. How long he had survived since the car tagged him, we had no idea, but survived he had. We thought that fact alone meant he should have a chance at life.

They wanted to get him on the table that day. We called that evening and were able to speak to the doctor who had performed the surgery. Sammie had survived, was resting, and could come "home" the next day.

The next morning the doctors explained what they had done. They bathed him, put his parts back where they belonged, stitched his diaphragm, and treated him for the fleas and ear mites. They chose not to re-inflate his collapsed lung as it would be safer to let that happen naturally. He was completely shaved on his underside with a wicked scar running his entire length. The leg where he had fractured his hip was shaved too, looking like a scrawny drumstick. He was also wearing an Elizabethan collar and had a time-release pain medication patch wrapped on one foot. We were given instructions on physical therapy, told when and how to remove his patch, and given a follow-up appointment ten days later.

During his recovery, he was to be kept restricted from too much movement. A new rabbit cage proved perfect in size. Litter box on one side, food and water on the other side, and a soft, cozy blanket in the middle.

Sammie was still feral. He hissed and drew back when the bathroom door was opened, and when we opened the door to the rabbit cage, he was even more adamant that he wanted to be left alone. But Sammie was a sucker for chicken baby food. We found that if we were to open his cage, sit quietly with a towel on our lap and hold a small plate with baby food, he could be induced to climb up on the lap. We spent a lot of time with him, feeding him, talking to him, calming him down enough that we could pet him. Part of socializing Sammie also included leaving a radio on when we were gone - we did whatever we could do to get him used to humans and human voices.

After a week, we called the clinic to see if we could bring Sammie back early for his follow up. He was so miserable with the collar, which made eating his dry kitten food in a cage a challenge, we wanted to see if he could be freed sooner.

The vet said he had recovered as well as they hoped. We brought him home again, still keeping him in the bathroom because of our other cats. For the first few days, he retreated to the cage when we would come in to "his" room, but that did not last long. Soon enough, Sammie showed great interest in anything that moved, including the feather wand he had ignored just a few weeks earlier. After a couple of days, we brought him, in his hutch, to the living room to begin the slow process of introducing him to the two cats in residence. Sammie was more bold than the other two, but in moments of distress he heads straight back into "his" bathroom.

It's been eleven months since we first caught Sammie in that busy gas station. He's no longer white, but grey and white, and is the largest (13.5 lbs.) and most verbal of "our three cats" - so much for our "operational theory." Sammie is ours.

Thanks, Ray and Carina

David Sutton
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COMMUNITY FOCUS

Bark for Life Sutton Studios is exceptionally pleased to award the six 1st Place prizes at the Bark for Life Canine Event to Fight Cancer on August 9th. Each winner will receive a gift certificate for a weekday portrait sitting, an 11" x 11" matted and signed exhibition print and a gift certificate for $50 from H. Marion Framing Studio. Each prize is valued at over $800. The American Cancer Society's Bark For Life (BFL) Mini-Relay is a full ACS Relay fundraising event that will honor the care-giving qualities of Canine Caregivers, the Canine Companions, Guide Dogs, Service Dogs, Rescue Dogs, Therapy Dogs, Police Dogs, Cancer Survivor Dogs, and Diagnostic Dogs, who with their owners, are participating in the event to celebrate cancer survivorship; honor people lost to cancer; fundraise in support of cancer research, education, awareness, patient services, and advocacy; and help eliminate the suffering that cancer causes worldwide. The contest categories are: Dog-Owner Look-A-Like: Contestants will be judged on their similarity in hair/fur and features. Darling Duchess: Contestants will be judged on their hair/fur and facial features. Females only. Dashing Duke: Contestants will be judged on their hair/fur and facial features. Males only. Most Unique Canine: Contestants will be judged on their body/hair/fur and facial features. Cutest Trick: Open to contestants of all abilities tricks will be judged on execution and entertainment � not difficulty. Best Bark: Bark will be judged on tone and pitch. August 9, 2009 Northfield Park District / Willow Park 401 Wagner Rd., Northfield, IL 60093 8 a.m. Registration, 9:30 a.m. Paws hit the pavement! Please visit www.barkforlifenorthshore.com for details or call 847-328-5147, Option 3.