After six nights in Kotor, we left for Sarajevo on November 8th. While on the bus, I saw a post on Kotor Kitties’ Facebook page about “a large male orange cat with an extremely sore mouth (blood and pus)” found near the Maritime Museum Square. The local feeders tried, but couldn’t find him.

At home, I searched for the Facebook post to confirm that we had indeed picked up that specific cat. The photo was gone, only the text remained. I requested the photo, but was told there never was one. I swear I knew this cat’s face by heart.

Kotor Kitties connected me with the tour guide who initially reported him. I told her we’ll have to wait ten days to see if the antibiotics work. She said she had donated to Kotor Kitties towards this cat, and would send more money if necessary. She was very concerned about him. Her name is Bana, but we refer to her as his “Godmother”.

That second night, he was not happy. Reasoning with him only made it worse. He meowed on and off. I fell asleep. Suddenly, the whole world shook. It was the early morning of November 26th, 2019; the morning of the 6.4-magnitude earthquake, centered in Durres, Albania, Montenegro’s southern neighbor. It killed 50 people in Albania.

The straight-line distance between Kotor and the epicenter near Durres is about 74 miles (119 km). Had Gregi been sleeping, I’m sure he was shaken and stirred. It was probably his first earthquake. Since he was completely silent, we let the sleeping cat lie. Later that morning, we released him where we found him which was quite far from his Maritime Museum Square. Until the day we left Kotor on February 19th, although we saw him many times, we never saw him where we found him again. That’s why I’d like to think that he was waiting for us in the rain that day.

We brought him to the vet four times, but nothing worked. Blood tests showed he has Feline Immunodeficiency Virus. An FIV-positive cat’s immune system is severely weakened leaving the cat unable to fight off illnesses. Boarding him hoping the indoor warmth will help him recuperate only stressed him out. He lasted three nights.

He drooled uncontrollably and on bad days, he could hardly eat probably because it was painful for him to swallow. The black crust on his nose and around his mouth were horrifying and he couldn’t clean himself. We felt truly sorry for him. Euthanasia was discussed but there was no consensus, and we didn’t feel like it was our place to push for it.

Gregi had his good moments too. If his Godmother saw him while guiding at the Maritime Museum Square, she would message and report on his condition. Gregi was her little assistant. While she talked, he stood majestically next to her capturing hearts and posing for photos. His reward was salmon pate. In his Godmother’s eyes, he is always handsome.

We brought him food every evening we were in Kotor (about 70 nights), unless it was raining nonstop. Very quickly, he recognized the clicks of my tongue, but we never knew from which direction he would appear. As it rained less, he would run out to greet us just by hearing our approaching footsteps. “Gregi! How are you, Boy?!”

One drizzly evening, I went to feed the cats by myself. He came from under one of Giardino’s outside tables. He was anxious, and kept looking behind him. Out of nowhere, a big dog came running. Gregi dashed, slammed into Giardino’s menu stand and knocked it over. BANG!! It must have hurt. A tall man came out, looked down the alley, glanced at me, and picked up the stand. I was afraid he would scold me for feeding the cat and thereby, causing the commotion. I’ve heard worse arguments, but he just nodded and went back inside.

One late afternoon just days later, while the square was still rather busy, another dog appeared. This big dog had a leash attached to his collar. His owner must be looking for him. Gregi who was eating at my feet was suddenly inches from the dog. SMACK!! Doggie squealed and ran. Everyone let out a collective gasp. He calmly returned to my feet and continued eating. Kenric and I felt oddly prideful. His Godmother was mortified and impressed.

On December 8th, we stumbled upon him in an alley. “Gregi! Who’s your friend?” There was a black cat behind him. I set the food down for them. That cat’s walk was unsteady, and his face horrified me. Once I saw his plastic collar, I knew he was the cat Danijela had been trying to catch – very sick, very hard to find, must go see the doctor. I fed him bit by bit to keep him around until Kenric returned with a carrier. He had old bloodied wounds behind what was left of his ears. The vet looked like he was in disbelief when he saw the cat. He immediately sprayed this tuxedo cat with flea medication, and tended to his many other problems. Felix stayed at the vet for many days.

On December 10th, while feeding Gregi, two tourists from Croatia told us about a very sick kitten. You may recall reading about Angela. Gregi sure was a magnet for sick cats. Misery loves company.

I bought two towels for his massage session on December 13th. As usual, he fussed when I wiped his drool after dinner. I sat down with my back against the closed museum door. Immediately, he climbed onto my lap and got comfortable. People must have loved it when he did that when he was young, cute and healthy.

He started purring once he was wrapped up. Few people walked by that cold rainy night. The waitress at Giardino who, by then, knew me by sight was out twice to smoke. Gregi loved his 45-minute scalp-neck-and-shoulder massage. He wagged his tail the entire time. “Relax, Gregi Boy.” I felt horrible leaving him in the cold. He loved all his massage sessions.

Julia, the waitress from Giardino started chatted with us; the other three people who work there, including the owner, started waving or nodding too. She told us that there is a lady who takes care of Gregi, and that he goes to her apartment to sleep after everything is closed. I was very glad to know Gregi didn’t have to sleep outside. We told Julia that we’ll be gone for about two weeks and would like to leave some food for Gregi. She said she would pass the food to Gregi’s caretaker. She assured us the Giardino kitchen crew also gives him food.

Some of the young ladies who work at the souvenir shops in this square also started chatting with us. One told Kenric that Gregi has been in that condition for a long time. She said a year or two earlier, Gregi’s stomach got really, really big. A tourist brought him to the vet to get the tumor removed. He was OK for a while, but then, the current illness started.

This is the kind of tortured existence Kenric and I want to prevent by helping with Kotor Kitties’ spay-and-neuter program. Spaying and neutering is the most effective and humane solution to the cat overpopulation problem. How often do we get to make a permanent change where the positive impact extends beyond the cats into their caretaker’s emotional and financial lives, and into the community?

I don’t know from where Gregi contracted FIV, but being such an alpha male, he probably got it through a fight. He might have even gotten it from Felix. A long-time resident told us that for a few years, Felix was the most gorgeous tuxedo cat in town; an ultimate alpha male who ran the Maritime Museum Square. I didn’t dare guess how many cats Felix and Gregi infected, and how many more those cats infected. Had they been neutered, they would be much less territorial and would have no reason to fight for the females. Gregi could very well be a healthy cat.

It was late in the evening of December 19th, and we leave for Zagreb early in the morning. We called Danijela for advice. As a short-term solution, she suggested leaving Sylvester close to Evergreen Jazz Club because the owner’s wife is a nice cat lover who would allow Sylvester to hang out there, but she’s usually not there so late in the day during winter. We told Sylvester to be good, and not to come around the corner and provoke Gregi.

When we returned on January 11th, Gregi ran to greet us the moment he heard me clicking my tongue. He looked horrible, but no matter how sick he was, his spirits and his welcome always made us feel validated. No matter how sick he was, he was still strong and stout. He didn’t eat until he had enough scratches; there’s no such thing. We were very sad we couldn’t find Sylvester.

Julia translated for us. Gregi sleeps outside because of his condition and because Milka already has too many cats inside. I could see at least three on the couch. A lightbulb went off in Milka’s head. She excitedly went inside and brought a cat to show us. “Sylvester!”

We consulted our vet in Albania. Dr. Hyka said given the right treatment at a specialized facility, FIV+ cats can live a good life afterwards, but we weren’t aware of any such facilities in Montenegro. Gregi’s condition never improved, but his temperament did, drastically. Sometimes, he would come find us at our last feeding spot behind the cathedral, but never joined in. He just wasn’t ready to say goodnight. I felt guilty and sorry. Kenric always walked him back to his building’s door.

One night, behind the cathedral, as I was dishing out my homemade chicken liver pate, Kenric said, “It’s Felix!” His face looked better than the first night we saw him, but we knew he wasn’t doing well at home. He loved the pate. He ate a lot of it the following night too. We never saw him again, and learned that he had died. I am glad he ate to his heart’s content on those two nights. I don’t know how I feel for having prolonged his tortured life by about two months.

We had to leave Kotor in a hurry (February 19th, 2020), a week earlier than planned. Instead of moving on to Albania, we flew back to California because Kenric’s mother was in the hospital. It was not COVID-19-related and she is much better now. Thank you.

Danijela assured us she will not let Gregi go hungry. Expecting the tourist season to start up soon, I knew he would see his Godmother more often, and get more attention. When we saw Ljiljana giving him food even though he’s not in one of her colonies, we felt even better. I asked Danijela to ask Milka if there was anything else we could do for Gregi. We brought him to Vet Port, and Dr. Cetkovic gave us extra doses of antibiotics to pass to Milka.

A week after we arrived in San Jose, California, I saw Gregi’s photo on Kotor Kitties’ page. Someone had reported him again. He was extremely sick. Based on the photo and my comments, a Kotor Kitties Admin recognized his symptoms and suggested bringing him to a vet in Podgorica.

The Admin told us that the vet has had success, but warned that there is no cure for FIV; and until bloodwork is done, there is no saying what Gregi’s chances were. We assured Kotor Kitties that Kenric and I will pay for Gregi’s treatment. Euthanasia which was probably the most humane option for any cat in that situation was again discussed. Knowing that Gregi was loved and mattered to people, we couldn’t agree to it this time without at least trying this other route. I knew his caretakers and Godmother would feel the same way; they did. Most of all, we love him very much. He’s Kitizen Number One.

I messaged Danijela. Danijela called Milka. Danijela called Rade. If Rade thought the day he let nine screaming cats plus Kenric and me into his taxi was the craziest cat-related thing he had ever done, he was in for a surprise the next morning. On February 28th, 2020, Little Gregi went on a big adventure, taking the cab all by himself to the capital city 90 minutes away to check in for his hospital stay. I don’t even know what the little boy would have packed.

Soon after, the Coronavirus lockdown was mandated. Although Danijela and her friends continue to find ways to feed the cats, and although Gregi would have an indoor place to sleep, I just couldn’t bear him patrolling that big empty square sick and all alone during his final days.

He was put on an aggressive treatment plan. When he was healthy enough, all his teeth were extracted to prevent future inflammation caused by his stomatitis. His health has improved; he gets along with others, and he has a good appetite even though he might still spit out my chicken liver pate. He recently passed his 60-day mark and is already running the clinic. Well, the vet lets him run around the clinic after hours.

If we still can’t find him a home by the time the lockdown is over, he will have to go back to his square which is not entirely bad, but FIV+ cats live a lot longer indoors. Gregi is a handsome, adorable, dapper, five-year-old go-getter who loves massages, and worked well independently, and now, in teams. He has conquered many challenges, and just through Kenric and me, he has saved three cats. We hope somebody saves him.