ALIAS: The Goat. Since George never turned his back on me, I am not entirely sure he was not a Georgette!

LIKED: Rabbit food, unfrozen water, my carport.

DISLIKED: Dogs, deep snow, rock throwing children.

George is not exactly a cat. Actually he is an antelope. The winter of 2003 he moved into our carport for a few weeks. The picture above is not actually George. I intended to get a few pics of him, but he was gone before I got a chance.

That winter was particularly harsh. There was more than two feet of snow everywhere for more than a month. From the place where I work, I could look out of the window and see herds of antelope. They were moving closer to town in search of food. There was no food to be found. The poor things were starving. Wardens from the Game and Fish strongly discourage people from feeding the antelope. They told us that feeding them would cause them to lose their natural instinct to forage, interfere with natural selection, cause a migration into the town, and other such problems. They may be right, but that makes it no less painful to see them starving out in the cold.

We started seeing "signs" of George's presence after Ben cleared a path around our house. That uncovered a small amount of sparse frozen grass. We live about a mile from where a herd was living. I think George found his way into our yard through a break in a fence that separates us from the road. A snowplow cleared the road and buried the opening under five feet of snow, blocking George from returning to his herd.

One night as I was returning home, I saw a neighbor's dog barking at something in my carport. It was George. He was obviously weak and starving — you could count his ribs. It was taking the last of his energy reserves to fend off the dog. After I chased off the dog, poor George just walked a few feet away and looked back at me. That look said that he just didn't have the strength let to run. He was so weak and stiff that he could barely walk. I knew I had to figure out what to do with George, but in the meantime maybe just a teeny bit of food wouldn't hurt. I offered him a box of cornflakes. He looked at me like I had lost my mind. I gave him some water and found some old rabbit food that I used to keep around for the wild bunnies that lived under our shed. George liked it.

I expected him to wander off in the night, but in the morning he was still there in the carport. He barely managed to get up and eat a little of the food I set out for him. Ben and I asked around about what we should do to help him. We were told to call the Game and Fish Department. They would return George to the herd. As I said earlier, the antelope herds were starving. George was already pitifully weak. I knew he would not last long if he were returned to the snow covered fields. In truth, I didn't think he had much chance of survival left even with me providing him with food and shelter. I decided to let the poor guy stay in our carport and see what happened.

I gave George rabbit food and water for the next few days or so. He mostly laid on a blanket that I put out for him. I never made any move to touch him or otherwise tame him. George was not a trained animal like we see on TV, in a circus or in a petting zoo. He was an unemployed wild animal and he had about nine inches worth of pronged horns. I was a bit leery of having him decide that he didn't want to be my friend after all, and skewer me like a shish kebob! Another reason I never tried to approach him was that I was hoping that if he survived, he would be returned to his herd eventually. People hunt antelope here. It was better for him not to think humans were his buddies.

I can't really say that antelope are beautiful animals. They are of the goat family and are actually kind of goofy looking. Rather than running with lithe grace like a deer, they have sort of a bouncing, almost rabbit-like gait. George was no exception. He wasn't gorgeous, but he was endearing in his own way.

After about a week days in our carport I started seeing a change in him. His eyes brightened and he became more alert. He became less stiff and would get up immediately and walk around when I came to feed him. He did his best to keep my car between him and me. A few days later he was leaving the carport and exploring the area a bit. He had another encounter with a dog and some rock throwing children, and that ended his explorations for a few days. He was becoming more curious about me and would try to approach me when I fed him. I kept a wary distance and warned anyone who might visit us that George might be getting a bit territorial and that they should probably stay away for a while.

The weather started to warm and George got stronger every day. The neighbor dog cam over to bedevil George one afternoon and George decided that he'd had enough of that. He charged with his horns down ready to play "prong the puppy." The dog wisely decided not to bother George again.

George had been with us about three weeks when it got much warmer and the snow started melting rapidly. I came outside one morning and didn't see George waiting for me. I followed his hoof prints to the break in the fence that had been blocked off by the snow. George had gone home.

This year was mercifully mild. I didn't see the antelope herds much. I guess food was plentiful and they had no need to come closer to the town to find it. I like to think that George is out there with his family. Watching George change from a half-dead, starving creature into a strong healthy animal was one of the most gratifying experiences I can think of. That is why I have made him an "Honorary Rescued Cat."

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Any donations to help cover the care and vet bills for our rescued cats would be greatly appreciated!