Until Later....

Tomorrow I may be disconnected from TV and internet.  I've been spoiled rotten having these two things.  My brother has given me this gift for awhile, but is unable to continue.

I believe it will be tomorrow that the cable is cut, line goes dead, etc. etc.  Off the pacifier for me.

I know a lot of people make comments about TV and how bad it is to watch and all.  But I like watching at night, dropped out exhausted in my chair.  I'll miss it.

As for internet I hope to get another different type of connection soon.  It won't be as speedy, but I'm sure it will be adequate.

I was dismayed when learning about internet access provided by the phone company in this area.  They want you to bundle, for one thing.  They had one stand alone offer.  You got a decent price for 12 months, then the price went up and you are locked in for five years.  What?  Five years?  You are kidding me.  Who  lets companies get away with this?  Where's the FCC?  When they checked my address, the service rep's eager mood changed.  She had just told me I'd need 7 Mbps if I wanted to stream at least, preferably 12.  But after checking my address, she said the phone lines in this area will carry only up to 3 Mbps.

Meanwhile, the car still sits leaking transmission fluid by the pint.  I clean up the mess under it in the morning, fill it back up, and back it out of the garage.  At night, I put more in, and drive it back into the garage.

May be fixed later in the week, if I can ignite a fire in the right place.  I am trying to do that.

It's a long walk to anywhere from here.

Somebody walked into my house last week and declared how badly it stinks.  It's Peeman Sam caused.  He became very agitated over all those males of late.  Like the four new show unaltered males who came through the yard, a couple of whom came back for a week or two, after I got them neutered, but none have been back in awhile .  But when they were passing through routinely, they spray marked everything and inflamed my ultra insecure boy.  Then there were the other four males I tried to save, those wonderful strays.  Mango, from the Shell station parking lot.  Hobo, who in the end, died.  Sherman, the bobtail Scottish Fold, now in a Portland home.  And lastly, Da Vinci, from N. Albany.  I had to bring them into the bathroom because the garage was too hot to hold cats at that time.  One by one, they finally moved out and on, but they left a legacy---their unfixed big boy smell and this drove Sam mad.

So, I ripped up the sticky vinyl squares, that never really did keep out moisture, not even from mopping, off the sub floor of particle board and found the bad spots.  Today I ripped out the sub floor in those spots, that awful particle board, that bubbles up with moisture then turns to sawdust.   I used a Goodwill circular saw, a screw driver for prying it up and a kitchen knife, which broke in the end, for trimming.  I could not find my box cutter.  I'd gotten a piece of sheet vinyl, not enough to cover the entire dining and living room.  That was too much money, but enough for one area.  Tomorrow it gets laid out.  It's the kind you don't have to glue.  Nice and easy.

I felt proud getting that done.  I had been horrified when that woman said that and embarrassed. The moment she left I began ripping the floor squares up to find the problem spots.   And I was mad at Sam and my easy heart, that melts when I see a stray in trouble.   It was not easy to get that old particle board out with those tools.  I replaced the spots I took out with OSB I had in my rafters, gleaned from the Millersburg fire house remodel.  Some pieces were just the right thickness.  I could not believe my luck in having that.

Been a stressful few days.

Until later...hopefully....

No!

Ok, so I thought life was beautiful again.  I went to do shopping this morning.  The car felt strange, shifting all the time, loosey goosey.

I get home and forgot it though.  Until I go out to my garage, loose my footing in something and take a slide.  I look down to see why I slipped and there's red fluid in a puddle and line to the left a foot and down a bit from where the oil used to drip from the leaking seal.

Oh.  NOOOOOOOO!

Only it's more than a little leak.  It's a holy cow leak.

There's more out in the driveway.

I call the mechanic and tell him.  He says fill it up with transmission fluid and bring it down.

So I do.  It's down over half a quart, in a day.

So when he put it back together, after fixing the rear main seal and wheel bearing, he said the axle seal must not have seated correctly or tore or something.

So he can't get the axle seal til next week some time.

I exchanged oil spots on my garage floor for transmission fluid puddles.  I got one seal fixed and now another leaks.

Shit.

Meet the new leak.  This is part of what leaked out last night, from the damaged axle seal supposedly.  This is with no driving, just gravity.

The Real Deal!

I have become cynical about people and their motives over the years.  Too cynical.

Today I was given a gift.  My car is back and fixed and all for a fraction of what it would have cost elsewhere to be fixed.

A right rear wheel bearing had failed, right as my self appointed mission as a cat wrangler had to end, when Poppa Inc., the wonderful Beaverton based nonprofit that funded all the spays and neuters, closed their spay neuter mission.

My depression has been severe although I try to brighten up my outlook with other projects and pursuits.  But when the car failed like that, and I live so far out in suburbia land, I was very sad.

In addition to the failed wheel bearing, the car has been leaking oil from the rear main seal for a year.   Sometimes they can leak a long time before gushing oil.  But I knew that would come.

A paper reporter, who loves cats, suggested I take my car to a guy in Albany she had done a story about for the paper.  He's done prison time and been homeless and said in the article he wants to help others now.

But I really could not believe words.  How often have people told me, when I pick up their cats to be fixed, "We'll donate for your gas or the fix job when we get paid" then I've never heard from them again?   Let's just say when people say that I never hear back from them.  But I'd get their cats fixed anyway, for the sake of their cats and for the sake of all cats and for the sake of all the little people, shelters and rescues trying to stop the horrors caused by overpopulation.

Words often mean absolutely nothing. I disregard them.  Words are easy to speak, in anger or in the moment, or to appease or to manipulate.

Actions are what count.

So I took my car to him on Tuesday.  He thought he would have it done the same day.  When he didn't, my cynical nature kicked on.  I wondered if I would see my car again.

But today I have my car back.  And tears in my eyes.  He charged me half shop labor rate, almost nothing, under $400, to repair both the rear main seal, that required taking out the cars' transmission, and for replacing the bad wheel bearing.  I gave him more than that.  I'd been saving for a year to get the rear main fixed, you see, and I don't want this man, helping others in a very crucial fashion, keeping their transportation lifeline in repair, to not make it.  What he's doing is so needed here in this impoverished county.

I am a believer again.  There are good people out there.   I hugged him, said thank you, eyed my prized car with happiness, running again, the Catmobile, the little car that could, a car that has hauled 10,000 cats to be fixed or to new homes.  He never said a word about how it smells either, just that his cat, who needs fixed, really liked my car.

I will get his cat fixed for him.

This guy is the real deal.

Car in Shop. Sun Gone.

My car is gone.  In the shop.

I thought I'd have it back by this evening, rear main seal repaired and a new right rear wheel bearing.

Just couldn't be that easy, could it?

The mechanic called at 4:30 p.m. to tell me he'd just gotten the tranny out, to get at the seal.  He was about to put in the new one he got from an auto parts store, only to find it is not the right seal.  He says he can't get the right one for three or four days.  He's trying to find another sooner and is supposed to let me know.  Also, it took him all day long to just get the tranny out.  Uh oh.  That sounds like lots more money for labor.

My brother says taking an engine out of a Honda or Toyota is a bitch and requires specialized Toyota specific tools to tame the dragon in the job.  However, he also can't believe there's no rear main seal to fit it in the valley or that it would take three or four days to get one here in the age of Fed Ex Over Night.

That means I probably won't have a car for a week.  I was not prepared for this.  I have almost no food in the frig.

I hope I see my car again.  I hope.  I hope.  I hope.

I told him, "Well, I guess we have to roll with this."

There's not a damn thing I can do about it.  My gut is kind of churning though.  In worry.

The weather has been hot here in Oregon.  Until today.

Today it wants to rain very badly, but so far only some light sprinkles.

These are potatoes I planted from store bought ones that sprouted out before I used them.  I don't have dirt so I cover them as they grow with yard clippings.

Sock flowers.

Privacy Fence Building.  It's up now, along the backyard.  I had some extra horse fencing to make the fence.  Then I cut sheets to wind in the wire for the privacy factor.

It's Over, But Did My Car Decide It's Over Too?

With the six cats I took to be fixed today, that ends my ability to help round up unfixed cats.

It's sad, but it has to be, not only because there is no group to pay all those spay neuter bills, but because I can't go into debt anymore helping out everybody and their mother.

I'm up shit creek with my car and having so many cats here to care for now.  I'm down to two bags of dry cat food and one bag of wood pellet fuel I use for litter.

But worse yet, I've got three cats to return to Independence and my car may have decided this is the end too.

I get in it to return the KATA cats to Lebanon and it makes a thumping and growling sound at the rear end.  I think I'm dragging something maybe, maybe a litter box I forgot was out there, that I was cleaning.  But there's nothing under the car.

I try to pretend its ok, and drive off, to return the KATA cats to Lebanon, but the car is vibrating and making strange noises and feels like something is impeding its motion.  I have no idea what is going on.  It starts and runs but its not running normal.  I can't see anything under there, and can't figure out what could have suddenly happened like that.  Is it because I've been running the air conditioner I think.  Or the the fact its been low on transmission fluid, although I added some.

Or is the leaking rear main seal suddenly leaking lots instead of just some?

I'm concerned about driving to Independence.  Those people don't have a car to come get their own cats.  But what if I get stranded, with cats, in this heat?  I'm going to empty my car of everything before I go, in case I have to leave it out there somewhere.  It's 36 miles one way.  I better wear shoes I can walk in.

I'm also concerned about my ability to survive.  I can't get what I need to live and support these cats without a car here.  I can't believe it would do this today.

The End has come, for me and my self appointed job.  Forced retirement.  No fanfare, nothing at all, just suddenly its all gone.

But my car, what are the chances it would die the same day?  Call it quits.  Give it up.  Say "enough".  The same day?

What?  That's too Twilight Zone.

UPDATE:  I took the car to a repair shop today, a shop recommended by that reporter who did a story on me awhile back.  She did a story on this man also.  He got out of prison, was homeless, started that shop with the help of the homeless shelter.  He quickly diagnosed the problems the car experienced yesterday that caused me concern--a shot right rear wheel bearing.  That accounts for all the symptoms of yesterday.  Next Tuesday, that will be replaced and the rear main seal repaired.  It's leaking too much oil now.  It will be spendy, because of the labor (10 hours) on the rear main, but he's giving me a good break and I'm throwing in a cat neuter.  (his cat needs fixed)

I did make it to Independence, with the three freshly fixed girls, and asked to see Da Vinci, formerly Mikey, again.  I was astounded. After all, he'd only been there 24 hours.  She gives him kisses and he gives her kisses.  She lets him roam out of the cage and he lays with her on the bed, kneads and demands petted.  He still will get feisty and go at her but she is firm with him, tells him no and he has to go back in the cage when he does that.  He ran over and rubbed against my legs.  I was flabbergasted.  And it made me cry like a baby.  A cage like the one I gave her, works so well, even to introduce successfully completely tame cats to a household.  It gives a cat a security zone.  Heartland gave me that cage.  It was in pieces but I rigged it together and modified it over the last year that I've had it.  I've used it over and over and now it moves on with a cat who really never had a chance.  So I thought.  Until today.

You should have seen him.  You should have seen him!

I don't know what I expected today, the last day of my ability to round up cats.  I hoped someone would acknowledge me I think, or something.  Guess I hoped for some love thrown my way, maybe a call from family, I don't know.  I got one call, from a Corvallis woman, offering help with transport, if I couldn't get the cats back, and then she told me thanks for what I've done for cats.  I have only met her twice and e-mailed with her for a few months.  That was nice.

And then I felt ridiculous for thinking that way.  And I cried when I finally was able to get to Independence to return the three girls and saw Da Vinci already happy and loved.

The problem of feline overpopulation continues.  When I returned the KATA cats, that over worked volunteer, with a garage full of kittens, asked me to take one boy back to his foster home, with the woman who initially called me about Blueberry and her siblings in the junk pile.  I'd gotten a ton of cats fixed in the neighborhood then, all of the unfixed cats fixed.  But now, new people moved into the junker house by the street, same house that was full of coccidia kittens with the old tenant and dogs thrown out back and never noticed.  New tenants breed cats and pitbulls.  Two unfixed females there and two litters. She said one kitten crawled into a tail pipe and rode all the way to Walmart before they found it.  Now they call it "Miracle".

The real miracle would be if they stopped breeding and a little kitten didn't have to ride to walmart in the tail pipe of a car.  They've already handed over three of the kittens to be fostered by KATA's Lebanon volunteer, although they are with the neighbor now.

I saw two unfixed cats at least on the Lebanon volunteer's short street.  Probably three.  A little tabby, likely a female.  A tame Lynx Point, probably owned by new people on the block.  And then a feral Siamese mix boy, creeping around, spray marking and lonely.

Craigslist is popping out with free kitten ads.  Those kittens will likely be adopted by like minded people who will let them breed or dump them when they're not kittens anymore.

 I can't let myself look because I'm out of the game.  There's not a damn thing I can do about it anymore.

Bye Bye Mikey

Mikey went to his new home in Independence today.  The woman who took him in, is very poor and lives in stark contrast to the people who refused to take him back, after I offered to help get him fixed.   But she offered anyway and her offer was full of heart and soul.  I knew she would try her best for him.  So I took him up, with his beloved carrier and snuggy blanket.  I revamped the cage today and took it up also and told her she can keep it.  I was very grateful to her.  I hope to round up some food to take her tomorrow, when I return her three cats, three of the last six I will take in to be fixed tomorrow using Poppa funds.

She's already talking about how she can see how much he wants to be loved.  She's already petting him and talking about his vision problems, that he is near sighted and so he hisses if she enters the room at first but not if she speaks to him first.  That's because he's cross eyed.  He can't focus on distances, only closer up.

She renamed him Da Vinci before I even arrived.  Good luck, Da Vinci.  You have a shot there, amongst the poor, who are rich with kindness.

Mikey, now named Da Vinci, has been adopted by an Independence woman.  

How hard it must be for a big boy, not fixed, to roam unwanted, with such vision issues.  How frightening all the changes he's gone through must be for him.  At last, I hope Da Vinci can relax, in time, and be loved.

Bad Mouth

I finally got a dentist.  Took two years after my long time dentist retired.  The news is not good.

I know I broke a filling out on popcorn many months back.  More and more has fallen out.  That tooth now has to be pulled. Then part of a front tooth filling fell out and over time, I could see decay around the edges and knew there was likely decay behind it.

I didn't know most of the filling in the tooth behind the one that broke has fallen out also, allowing in decay.  I seem to have a lot of broken or partly missing fillings.

I had to switch dental plans to find a local dentist.  There really aren't any dentists in this area who took the plan I was on, except the free clinics at the Boys and Girls Clubs.  They don't do adults unless its emergency care.

I got the run around for two years, because the plan listed dentists in the area as on their plan, but when I'd finally get in touch with the office, they would say they did not accept patients on that plan.

I found out I could only change plans once per year at a given time, too.  Fortunately, this year, an exception was made, given the state of my mouth.

I won't have many teeth left soon.

I brush three times a day, don't drink soda pop and floss at least four times a week.

However, most of my life was spent in the mental system, drugged up on psyche drugs that affect a person's mouth like meth---dry it out!

I have acid reflux also and the acid burns down your tooth enamel, allowing in bacteria.  I take prilosec when I can afford it.  I don't eat within four hours of going to bed.

Does it seem strange my father was a dentist and yet I had my first dental check up in my mid twenties?  After that, I don't think I had any dental care, outside of a night jaw protector for TMJ/teeth grinding made, until the 90's.  That's because I didn't have any insurance and no money.  I don't know what the date was, in the 90's that I had virtually my first real dental care done, including the first ever cleaning.  It's unclear in my memory.

The shoemaker's kids.....

By then I had some very large cavities.  If you're young, and can find some way to get regular checkups and cleaning, do it.  You'll save yourself misery and tooth loss later in life.

It's not just sugar and no brushing that can damage your teeth.  Teeth grinding and acid reflux can steal your enamel.  I still grind my teeth nights sometimes when my jaw clenches up especially from tightened facial and neck muscles, when I overdo it and inflame my neck.

Well, now I have one tooth that has to be pulled and the one next to it, minus most of its filling too, which fell out at some point. Parts of at least two front tooth fillings gone, with decay around them, and other problems.

My insurance doesn't pay for crowns, bridges or root canals, just cleaning once a year or two years, not sure which, fillings and extractions.

I guess that's life.  I don't know anyone who can pay out of pocket these days for a crown, let alone a crown with root canal, which runs into thousands of dollars cost to restore one tooth.

I am lucky I can get the ones that can be saved filled and the ones that can't-- pulled.

I'll have no chewing teeth on the upper right very soon.  The remnants of the broken one will be pulled end of this month and the one next to it, the only other tooth left on that side, now with most of a large filling fallen out too, probably will go  by the end of the summer.  They said they could put a temp filling in it, in prep for a root canal, but I can't come up with money for a root canal and crown.  It's not something I could ever afford.  So when it starts hurting, I will have it pulled.

So first I will have my teeth cleaned and the broken tooth pulled.  Did you know most dentists don't pull teeth anymore?  I did not know that.  There are dentists who just pull teeth now, specialists, and most general dentists don't do that.  How things change!!

I'm very happy to have a dentist again!  Let the drilling begin!

Mikey, the lynx point dumped on me last week, by the N. Albany assholes, is still here, causing issues with my cats and for me.  Not sure yet if he is completely tame or just acting like an unfixed unruly bad boy who wants out to fight and breed.  Sam touches noses with him below, and although there's been no spatting even through the screen mesh door on the bathroom, there has been some yowling and tail twitching, on Mikey's part.  He's supposed to leave tomorrow to go to a home.  But they have pitbulls, plus other cats.  I hope it works out.  Will take time and patience and I hope they will still take him on.  Not easy to take on a mature male freshly neutered this time of year, as the hormonal urges in him, to fight, roam and breed, will remain strong for a month or more.  Would have been so much better if he could just have gone back, to his familiar territory, and those assholes could have fed him.  Not like it would cost them much effort or money.  But no.  They were just too selfish and mean.