Monday, October 27, 2014


How did the tree hold up in the severe winds that tore through the valley on Saturday?   I stood out in my driveway by the car half the day, in awe, watching the trees bend and whip under the force of the gale blowing through.

Mary's Peak, over west of Corvallis, registered a 91 mph gust.

I'd moved my car to my driveway near the street so branches wouldn't hit it if they fell from the maple and crashed across the driveway or onto the garage.

Only one branch ripped and fell from the maple, and not the damaged branch, but another, farther up.  It came straight down, like a spike or an arrow from the sky, and pierced the cat yard wire, tearing through it.  But in the end, the wire caught on it and held, so it hung from the damaged wire a few feet off the ground.

I went out in the wind, wearing my bike helmet for safety and chased all the cats inside from the cat yard and closed the cat yard off to them, making them none too happy.  Later when the wind died just a little, I pulled the fallen branch through to the ground inside the cat yard.  Still later, I cut it up with my Sawzall and its now in the seasoning bin, for campfires next summer out somewhere.

The power flickered off twice during the day, but came back on.   I didn't care if there was power or not, one way or the other, wouldn't affect me much having none.

Yesterday morning, after a night of confinement, the cats were snarly and grumpy and I got up early to repair the yard wire, so I could let them out (get them out).

I've been trying to create an Amazon account for the nonprofit, so I can publish ebooks and maybe make some money for it, since nothing else is working to raise funds.  But I ran headlong into the tax form issue.  I have to fill it out as if I am Poppa Inc.  But no matter what way I filled it out, it came back as invalid, so that I guess Poppa Inc's president is the only one authorized on the IRS to create an account as Poppa Inc.  Or something.

I e-mailed Poppa's president then, and am still hoping she might reply and we could make a solution so I can try this route to make money for the cats.   It'd be easy if she'd just create the account, and do the quick tax form, I bet, but that'd be if she is inclined and has the time.

But she's not that much of a communicator either, so I dare say I'm likely up a creek, and I haven't seen her in a year or has it been longer?  May have been longer.  But she is the parent company and me the affiliate, without a say, without the ability to esign anything as Poppa Inc.  I'm itching to try my hand at ebook publication and to do it for the nonprofit, in other words, to profit nothing myself, but the  money going for the cats food, litter and vet care.  Something we all need here, since nothing else is working at all.

The sun is out today.  Go figure.  No wind either.  Too bad I didn't sleep last night after pumping my stepper machine too long and inflaming my back.  I forgot to take Aleve, thought I was like 30 years old again or something, and that an hour pumping that hill climber would be nothing.

So no sleep and now I can't keep my eyes open and the sun is out and it's winter here, in Oregon, so that sun is a rare sight indeed.  But that's for those with open eyes.  Not me, not today.

I can't wait til next Tuesday.  Election day.  And, hopefully, my mailbox will no longer get stuffed with useless expensive campaign fliers.  I don't even read them.  What a waste.   Here was one's days worth from last week:
Viktor still waits at Heartland for a home.

Thursday, October 23, 2014

Look at Them Now

Remember when I followed a lactating feral mom, over in Corvallis, to a deck, and then coaxed her three two week old kittens to where I could pull them out  from under the deck, while laying flat out on it, with my arm extended under it?  Then used the healthiest two the next day to trap their mom?  Remember that?

The kittens were under this deck.  I used a mirror and flashlight to locate them.

Little black boy, two weeks old, and the first one out from under the deck.  He had a severe URI and was crawling in fleas and so skinny.
There were two blacks, one girl, one boy, both with such severe URI's they were mouth breathing and the boy could not bottle eat due to his severe congestion.  I didn't think they would all live. 
By contrast, the little Siamese girl, although crawling in fleas, seemed like mom's favorite and far healthier.

Mom refused to nurse them, so she got fixed and returned.  Which meant---bottle babes and I am getting too old to bottle babe it.  So a KATA volunteer offered and took them off.  Well, take a look at them now.....
That's her, the little Siamese girl, now, on the right, after being with a KATA volunteer who bottle fed the trio for a couple of months.  Her name is Yasmin and she's about to go up for adoption.
This is Tammy, the little black under deck girl.

And Tommy, the little boy.  Can you believe it?  They made it!  Now they just need good homes.

Thanks so much to KATA and bottle baber Karen, who fostered the three and now takes on the task of finding them homes.  I sure hope the people who feed that colony turn responsible citizen and get any others not yet fixed done, as they could easily do, since they have traps and nothing but time.  

Tuesday, October 21, 2014

The Long Gray and Analog Pain

No kidding.  Here it comes.  Here it is--the never ending gray drear.

Got your anti depressants filled for the Oregon winter?

Why shouldn't we just hibernate through it?

Save a lot of everything.

Today, rain poured down in sheets.  More rain than we need.  We're already over our normal quota for October.  Enough already.  Once the quota is hit, for inches of rain, I expect the rain to stop and the sun to pop out!

Sometimes I wish I could like sports, get into the fall football thing, but I don't like football or follow any sport.  Maybe I would if I were playing it or playing some sport or if I knew players, but otherwise, it's just another reality show you watch from your planted butt end.

Those of us unable to genetically (perhaps) enjoin  with the fan or groupie mentality miss out on all sorts of bonding experiences.   I am unable to scream for a team.  Why do people call a team of players unconnected to them theirs anyhow?  Do they live through them? I don't understand.  I wish I could.

Fall is here.  My Roku has died twice in the last three days.  I spent a lot of hours trying to make it good again.  I spent time with Roku chat people and it was wasted.   Finally, I spit three times on the ground, turned clockwise full circle twice with my arms in the air and my eyes closed, chanting four words backwards, after, AFTER I'd already prayed to ten gods, from four directions, and promised to name every cat in three litters of completely female kittens all "Roku" and adopt them out only to male cat lovers over 40 who speak Mayan.  Also, I reset all devices, including the Roku and the router and the PC and even my microwave for good measure, to factory settings.  Then I knelt, kissed the ground, and changed all the batteries in every remote, then burned incense with the discarded batteries and chanted "Ohmmm" for twenty seven seconds.  After that, I turned off my computer for exactly two minutes.  Then I unscrewed the cable for 32 seconds and kissed and blessed its end before screwing it back in.

I then cowered under the eye of Comcast and pleaded my case again and cried and offered up sacrifices and Comcast smiled upon me and the Roku connected to the internet and I bowed to the Comcast Eye and I am evil by comparison.

I watched three episodes of Twisted then.  But during the 4th, Comcast frowned upon me.  Spooling circles appeared as I leapt to my feet crying "NOooooooo!"  But yes, I had been once again inflicted upon by the Eye.  No more would the Roku connect to the router which is connected to the....modem which is connected to the....ham bone.. no wait, I'm sorry, I got that mixed up with some old thing in my head.

After spending two days with Roku and routers, and nameless product chat pimpers, I "liked" Roku on facebook even though its a lie and I don't like Roku anymore, but I wished to vent and vent I did and quickly most of my comments vanished into cyber discard.  I'm not sure who to blame for the failings of the Roku---Roku itself, or the router, or the Eye of Comcast, the maker of all knowledge and all that is good (Listen, my devices are not working, I have to suck up).

I'd like to kill them all.  I have a fantasy about hooking them up to a chain and swinging that chain with the Roku and the Linksys and the modem around my head, whooping wildly, maybe riding atop a van at the same time.  Or riding them down, atop a nuke from a bomber bay like Slim Pickins. Or putting them atop a car and putting that car into the car crusher and moving the lever that starts the car to crushing with the Linksys and the Roku and the modem atop it, while I sing.

I have had lots of thoughts like that the last hours.  Dark thoughts.

I lamented my lack of analog friends to my virtual friends on facebook, most of whom I've never met in my life and never will.   My virtual friends all say I'm a fine person and even though I have no real life friends, virtual friends are probably good enough.  I thought about that for awhile.

I thought "there's a lot wrong with this world".

I thought, "my analog friends I've had never were as nice as my virtual friends."

I'm going back into the matrix.   I need the perks offered there.  I'm not so sure I need the analogs anymore.

Well, for you interested, here are some magic mushrooms.  Just kidding there.  These are growing helter skelter like crazy in my dead neighbors yard. They are not edibles. They won't kill you to eat them, just give you a stomach ache.

This post is dedicated to all of you out there who have experienced the hair pulling "joy" of non functional electronic components and the tangled web of unhelpful customer service people.

Sunday, October 19, 2014

Some How

Some how I have to keep on.

These days it is hard.  I am too alone.  I look ahead and see nothing but the same--struggles to make it caring for these cats, to feed and clothe and house myself, keep the car running so I can get what I need and possibly escape this freeway sprawled suburb town now and then.

I have the phone now, at least its there, ready, and it was fun at first, but its in the drawer with the others, because I still don't get any calls.  The little plastic phone I couldn't even see, it was so tiny, would have been just fine for this person, me, whom no one calls.  Ah well....

I still try to find Slinko a home.  He would benefit from getting into a good home.  No luck there either.   Sometimes I wonder if I just think I'm alive, because I travel my world like a ghost unseen.

The experience with the neighbor knocked the wind from my sails.  Any thought I had of being liked or respected on this block vanished after that.  I knew she thought I was an idiot and sometimes tried to take advantage of me for sport, but the magnitude of the last episode, well I haven't recovered.  I avoid her like the plague now.

As for the cats, I need to figure out a product to make and somehow sell, to support them.  I don't get donations anymore, except from a handful of people who, it seems, will never stop helping me care for the cats here, if they are able.  I have an obligation to them, also, to try to find a way to keep going, something I can make to sell.  I don't like to beg.  I don't expect anyone to help.  I need to find a way to support them on my own, through selling something, either that I make or a service.

But what?  What would people buy from me?  I'm not crafty.  This website is not popular, in fact, it's barely rarely read and so would be unsuitable as a means to market a product should I come up with one.  I'll keep trying to come up with an idea for something, then a way  to sell it.  I have to.

I lay awake at night trying to think of something I could sell, make or a business to start that would support the cats.  Or how I would begin without money to begin with.

I walked three miles two days ago and found just one can.  Canning will not be my answer.   Or much help.  Everyone is poor around here and so many people search for cans.

However, an Albany business did donate their cans two weeks ago, which I returned and the total came to just under $23, with which I bought a 25 pound bag of dry cat food.  That's amazing that their cans will feed five cats here for a month.  I was very pleased and happy.

I have two Reel Mowers I am trying to sell.  They don't go for much new, but I hope to sell them.  Wrong time of year maybe, have not had one response.  But it costs nothing to keep the ad going.

Today, Heartland takes Viktor.  He will be devastated. He's weary of being just in my bathroom and now he will be locked in a small cage.  I feel very guilty and conflicted over this.    But maybe he will get a good home soon.  There are so few good homes out there, makes me hang my head to think I will need to delude myself to hope the best for him.

When I took in Viktor, and the other two cats, from the rabbit hoarders, the officer who asked me to take them in, told me there were rabbits again in the rabbit hoarders garage.  She was aghast and told me they were told they all had to be gone by that Wednesday, including the cats and the dogs.  They'd already removed 200 rabbits and Guinea Pigs.

But when I picked up the cats, I asked how things were going for them, and one of them at the house said lots of her friends had gone to adopt their rabbits, after Safehaven took in the 200 and immediately adopted them out, super cheap and unfixed.

Although the woman said nothing else, given there were rabbits back in the garage, I wondered immediately if those were not some of the same rabbits, previously removed, adopted out fast and furious and almost free and unfixed, and maybe adopted to the rabbit hoarders friends who just handed them right back over to the rabbit hoarder.  I wondered that first thing and I still do wonder that.

I still have anger that the cats were left there to suffer.  Poor Missy, with mouth and throat cancer, unable to eat without pain, and poor Bootsy, with that horrific awful staff infection all over him.  Only Vicktor seemed somewhat healthy of all things alive there.  Allegedly there were three dogs there too, ordered to be gone also by last Wednesday.  I never saw even one dog.

Viktor plays!




Well, today is the last day with any sun forecast for at least a week so I'm going to take a walk again.  Will take my can bag just in case.  Wish me luck.  Thank you.

Friday, October 17, 2014

Cat Fishing with Viktor

I have no defense of this video except I am bored and I think its darn cute. Viktor surprised me. Man alive, can he ever jump!

Tuesday, October 14, 2014

Tremendous Kitty Viktor

Viktor is awesome and soon will be at Heartland Humane in Corvallis and up for adoption!

Monday, October 13, 2014

R.I.P Missy

Missy, the skinny little gray torti I worried so over for months, watching her deteriorate and wobble when she walked, by the rabbit hoarders house, has died.  She was euthanized at Heartland after they found mouth and throat tumors consistent with cancer, large and painful, I was told, when I gave the permission.

She was not underfed.  She had cancer so painful she couldn't eat.

Rest in Peace, little gray girl.

I wanted to save her, to help her into a wonderful loved life.

Some things you can't fix.  I'd never seen anything like that drool discoloration around her mouth and on her nose, however.  She drooled constantly, from the tumors.

Sorry little girl.

Victor and Bootsy, now Mr. Marvelous, are now Heartland cats officially although I brought Victor back with me to foster here til they have the room for him, which won't be long.

Bootsy went home with a Heartland volunteer.  He has a staff infection in his skin, from scratching at himself with dirty claws, due to fleas and severe ear mites.  He would not have lived much longer, but now he has a chance to be remade.  He's a wonderful sweet boy and I hope, once he heals, which might take a couple months, that he gets the best home ever and lives a joyful life.

And that is that.

Heartland did not charge me a dime, which caused me to walk out of there crying.  Thank you, Heartland.