Kittens Without Hope

These kittens have no futures. They are from the Slaughterhouse colony. They got into traps when I was after adults to fill my 15 FCCO clinic spots. I can't foster them. Both need antibiotics. Like I can afford to take them to the vet or pay for the medicine they need. They'll have to go back.

I don't like doing rescue, because I live in a teensy tiny shoebox house that is barely fit size for a human to live in. In other words, I have no room. I don't have adequate heat in the winter. The furnace heats one room, not bedroom or bathroom. I survive this fine, but I can't expect foster kittens and cats to. I don't have money to pay for vet supplies, good cat food, meds or vet visits.

KAT's V was upset with me, for saying I'd have to take these kittens back to the colony and turn them loose, and yet those ladies won't let me adopt out kittens with them and they know how poverty stricken and space restricted I am. V's garage is twice the size of this house.

I wish I had another choice for the six Slaughterhouse colony kittens, but the fact is, I have not adopted out a kitten in a long long time.

I've put up fliers all over the place. I've run online ads. I have my petfinder site. And nothing, not one call.

It's very scarey, really, because I can't afford to care for even the six fixed ready for homes kittens, let alone the adult fosters and my own cats.

I must find an adoption venue. I must. I don't have the money for paper ads or pet of the week photo/stories, which would be wonderful.

I have thought of going nonprofit, but I am just one person, and that would mean more work, including fund raising, record keeping, grant writing. I'd lose POPPA funds for spay/neuter. That loss alone would mean massive work fundraising to equal just those lost funds. So, if I went nonprofit, I might be shooting myself in the foot. My love is trapping cats for spay/neuter, not rescue.

Moving to create a nonprofit, to cover rescue expenses, would mean moving away from what I am best at doing. I am best at trapping for spay/neuter. I think one might should stick with what they love and are best at doing, if working for nothing.

And I am just one person. I cannot do it all alone. What a dilemma I find myself in. 

Slaughterhouse Colony Kittens

Shown in photo: Three kittens of six I trapped at the Slaughterhouse colony.

What to do with them? I already have six FIXED kittens here, from Camp Boondoggle and from Maxine Street in Corvallis, and no takers on them.

Of these highway 226 kittens, all but two are males. All but two are either manx or have very short tails.

Breeding Heatherdale

Photo is of another Heatherdale female from trailer 52. She and her two kittens were fixed today at the Salem FCCO clinic. I took 14 cats. I got 72 Heatherdale Trailer park cats fixed last fall. Almost two dozen were associated with Trailer 52. I never was able to adopt out one of the kittens I netted at Trailer 52. So Comet of Heatherdale is still here with me. He's a year old now and beautiful in every way. 

Male from Slaughterhouse colony. 

Frye Nursery Preggie. Now Spayed.

Photo is of one of two pregnant Frye Nursery females who were fixed at yesterday's FCCO clinic. This one also had ringworm. I took four Frye Nursery cats to the Salem FCCO clinic. I was happy they allowed me to net four to take to be fixed, because the fact they have not been fixing the cats around there, is affecting neighbors. It is also losing them business.

I stopped by the nursery after three households on another street told me to go to the nursery and get cats fixed there, because they won't patronize the nursery because the nursery owners don't fix the cats. I'd been on that street asking people if they fed strays, trying to come up with enough cats to fill my 15 FCCO spots. 

Filling my Clinic Quota of Cats

Photo shows one of the 14 cats I took to today's Salem FCCO clinic.

This is a manx feral female, from a colony on highway 226--The Slaughterhouse Colony, I've dubbed it. It was a difficult colony to trap.

The old woman, I believe, thought of me as entertainment. She doesn't get many visitors.

I was out attempting to fill my quota for Sunday's Salem FCCO clinic (15 cats) until after 11:30 p.m.

I had to be up then by 6:00 to head, with cats, to the clinic. I ended up trapping six kittens at the 226 colony, many manx or bobtail and all young. I also trapped three adults there--two females and one male.

I helped a woman in Jefferson get two more males she fed trapped.

I got three to the clinic from Heatherdale trailer park, trailer 52, again.

I got four cats from the Frye Road nursery.

I trapped one male on Division Street and the folks off Spicer trapped another, number five of that colony.

I ended up taking 14 adults to be fixed at the Salem FCCO clinic. I also inadvertantly trapped six feral kittens, now in my bathroom. 

Boondoggle kitten "Hooch" is not overly impressed with the morning news. He is more impressed by my computer screen mouse pointer. Now that's fun to chase. 

Spicer Girls

Off Spicer, in Albany, I've now trapped four cats, three of them orange cats, like this pregnant female, being fixed today. 

Tailchaser of Boondoggle

Photo Shows Tailchaser of Boondoggle. Tailchaser went to a barn home after spending ten days here to build himself back up. I trapped him at Camp Boondoggle in a 13 hour stint there. With the help of a homeless man, I hauled him, and five other cats, out over two trains to my car late that night. Boondoggle Betty and Big Ben, the other two adults I trapped that day, went to a barn home within four days. But Tailchaser was too run down from chronic starvation.

I've kept him here with me, at first in a rabbit hutch, then free roaming my bathroom. He has certainly built up his strength in just ten days, eating two cans of wet food a day plus a bowl of kitten dry.

Tailchaser is looking good. He has gone off to the barn home now where Ben and Betty from Boondoggle are thriving.

I become attached to these hard luck cats I trap so desperate and starving. Tailchaser is feral and big. He could do me damage. He doesn't. He knows I helped him. He is respectful and grateful and he knows I saved him. 

Taylor tries to pump up, to develop front paw strength, the better to beat up brother Bugsy. 

Bugsy attempts to bite out his brother's left eye while Taylor screams in pain. Or mock pain. Taylor is a very good actor. I have thought of nominating him for some award. 

Bugsy and Taylor decide to go their seperate ways, walk seperate life paths, convinced they hate one another after a horrific kitten fight. Moments later, they are playing together again pretending they'd never vowed to seperate forever. 

Bugsy chases brother Taylor who somersaults down a cat climb to escape. Quite acrobatic of Taylor. However, Bugsy, anticipating the somersault escape, leaps to the ground and meets the surprised athlete kitten as he lands. 

Taylor. NEUTERED! NEEDS A HOME! 

Fall in the Bathtub Results in No Broken Bones. Must not be osteoporotic. Yay!

I don't have osteoporosis. I know that because this morning I took a fall in my slippery bathtub that might have snapped my leg. Oh sure, after falling and cracking my shin across the edge of the bathtub twice on the way down, I whimpered. Ok I shrieked. But my leg didn't break. I have two huge lumps and a cut down my shin. But no protruding white cracked bone ends. At least there's that.

Today was the day I was to spend with my friend, who is moving to the east coast. I was rushed. I trapped two cats off Spicer in Albany two days ago who had been fixed the next day. The female who had been spayed yesterday needed returned. I had left the caretakers a trap and they had caught another pregnant female last night that I was to pick up this morning. The male, who was fixed yesterday, has a paw bite wound absess, so he's staying here a few days, on antibiotics.

I called my friend and told her I was running late, still had to return the fixed female and pick up the preggie, then we could go have some fun. I went to take a quick shower.

I was rushing and I should have been more careful. I"ve fallen a few times in that tub/shower. Never this bad. I have put those suction cup rubber mats in the bottom of the tub, but they catch debris and grow mold and disintegrate with clorox so I don't like them.

I was talking to the Boondoggle feral male, still in the bathroom and stepping up out of the tub, where I stand to take a shower, and my feet went out from under me. My leg smacked the low counter in back of the tub first, then the side of the tub before I fell back into the tub. Instantly pain shot through my left leg.

The pain was quite intense. I was worried my leg was broken. I sobbed. Part of my sobbing was exhaustion and frustration but most of it was for pain release.

I slapped an ice pack on my leg which made it hurt worse but I kept it on. Two bumps were developing along my shin.

I had set the male cat up in a rabbit hutch in my shed. I heard something out in the yard. I was still naked and limping and sobbing. I hadn't clipped the hutch right and the cat had gotten out and was hiding under a board in my contained yard. He wasn't hard to find because five of my voyuer cats were staring at him. I got my net and lifted the board. He shot out and I netted him. I was naked and standing on one leg to do it. Good thing there are no small children in the neighborhood. It wasn't a pretty sight.

Then still limping and whimpering, I loaded up the female and headed off to deliver her home. No problem. I picked up the preggie they'd trapped and brought her home, gave her roundwormer, applied Revolution and set her up in another cage for her comfort and called my friend and said, as optimisticly as I could, "I'm ready."

We went to McKercher Park and went swimming for a short time, had a picnic and came home. My leg is sore to the touch, bumped and bruised BUT NOT BROKEN. At least there's that.

Insanity and Cruelty Near Philomath

When we can't muster the love or courage to be kind to things smaller, the path we walk will lead to our ruin.

Just wait and see. We're walking that path now, as a species.

Here's just one example of Philomath area ongoing cruelty.

Last May, I received a tip from an Albany man, who had a girlfriend who is a relative of what he described as a Philomath animal collector. He told me there were some fifty cats and kittens living outside this trailer and that the inside of the house was filthy with dog poop this woman never cleans up.

I was overwhelmed with situatioins already. So I turned it over to Benton County Animal control who was already familiar with the house. Nothing came of it however.

So I went up and trapped 12 cats, in an all night effort to "fix" the situation. The couple did not help. The woman would come out to complain basically about her family, about almost anything and everyone. Then they went to bed and on I stayed, determined to at least get these cats fixed. I stayed until I didn't have an empty trap or carrier left and until I was so tired I could barely function. The next day, all 12 were spayed at a Corvallis FCCO clinic.

I returned them. She wasn't there. She'd promised a donation. She never donated a dime. She promised to call if she saw any unfixed cats. She did not call.

I heard from another relative who cleaned her house once, working for four days, only to be stiffed of pay by this woman, that there were more kittens up there.

So I called her up. Sure enough, their own tame cat, who they had claimed to me was fixed, has a litter. She claims she doesn't have time to care for these kittens or deal with fixing the mother because she's preparing for a Grand Ronde PowWow.

She had also told me she saw three skrawny little kittens up back of a shed and under an old broken down car. I tried to make arrangements to come trap them but she was evasive on when I could come.

Then she tells me her step daughter bought a house in Crawfordsville but isn't going to move up there for a couple of years. There is a dog on the property, a horse and a bunch of unfixed cats. I asked who is feeding these animals and she said that her husband feeds the horse, when they go up there, which isn't often.

Everyone associated with these people seem to be neglectful of animals. They seem to have absolutely no respect for animal life, human life or even their own lives.

This morning she leaves me a message stating that her husband found one of the three kittens from out back beyond the shed and the kitten couldn't even stand he's so skinny and starving and she doesn't expect him to live but they don't have the money to take him to the vet and she's leaving shortly for the coast and will be gone all day.

What she does have the money for is soda pop by the case, cigarettes, casino gambling and the gas to drive to casinos a few times a week, which is probably where she is right now, over at the casino.

I called. She wasn't there. The kitten will be dead by the time they satisfy their addictions and get back home.

This woman, while drinking a can of pop and sucking on a cigarette will complain about her diabetes. I had finally said, when up there trapping cats and having to listen to her yack, excusing herself from assisting with trapping the cats she feeds, citing her diabetes... "well, if you have diabetes and want to live, maybe you might consider exercising, eating right and quitting smoking." She went on talking like I had not said a word.

I am angry at this woman and all the sorrow she causes humans and animals. I have no idea why a person would behave in such a destructive manner, hurting herself and everything she encounters, with excuses for everything and someone else to blame for everything, too.

I could not get the address out of her regarding the Crawfordsville situation. That one sounds out of control and inordinantly cruel to the animals, too, as is the situation there, outside her trailer, for the cats, and inside, for her dogs.

If I had an address on Crawfordsville, I would just send the new Linn County livestock abuse deputy out. I don't think that Linn County division cares about investigating abuse of companion animals. If they did, there would be hundreds of cases a month in Linn County. But there's allegedly a starving horse out there. Maybe that would get them into action.

The abuse of animals is directly related to the decline of morality in our society. While some segments claim to respect life, they wantonly abuse or neglect animals as if that doesn't matter. It does matter.

Want to stand out, be different? Then boldly courageously defend, protect and rescue things smaller from the onslaught of our own immoral lifestyles. Stay legal in your actions. Enlist real animal control officers who believe in what they do and love animals, not the fake ones who collect a salary for doing nothing and don't care about whether an animal lives or dies.

There is nothing more macho than a man who refuses to abuse verbally or physically animals, women or children and who stops any abuse or cruelty he sees, because he's a real man. I try to encourage males to become real men, because males do so much damage when they behave as males, not men.

And women, such as the woman I described above, is she beyond all hope? When I encounter women who seem to have no motherly instincts to protect and nurture children and animals, I tend to regard them as very very dangerous and damaged individuals.

A woman nurtures and protects, even to death, by nature. A woman without such a fighting instinct to protect, is a very basically damaged soul.

Dodson and Starry Get Homes. Seven Cats Get Fixed. I go Swimming, then trap a couple more cats.

I took seven cats up to get fixed in Salem today. I then went into Camp Boondoggle again, very briefly, set two traps, gave up quickly because it was late morning, already hot, and no sign of cats. I left food all over the place and fresh water.

I came home, took care of phone calls about cats, then headed off to Sweet Home for a swim in Foster Reservoir. I badly needed some R&R.

It isn't a great place to swim. You have to climb through weeds and huge rocks into the water. It's awkward, exposed and the rocks are difficult to walk on, into the water and out. But, it's all I have access to right now. It's the only place a lot of people have access to.

I swam around in the open windy swim area, towing my innertube, pretending the rocky shoreline was a white sands beach. I was near the dam. I took two long swims before heading back to a locale off Spicer to help a lady who wants two cats trapped and fixed. The male wasn't around. But I quickly trapped the female and left a trap set for the male.

Oh, for a true vacation--a campfire, mountain lake, starry crystal nights.

Then I stopped by the Albany household whose cats, along with Taylor and Bugsy, two male kittens I've been fostering here, were fixed in Salem today. I sat out back with them a few minutes. They had a little plastic swimming pool full of water on the deck.

My shoes were still wet from swimming at Foster. I took off my shoes and put my feet in the plastic wading pool for awhile and chatted with this nice couple. They put the final stray female, a gray tux and mother of the male kitten fixed today, into a carrier and I lugged her home, along with the orange tabby female from off Spicer and my boys, Taylor and Bugsby, the empty traps and the inner tube.

I had a very weird phone message on my machine when I got home, like someone accidentally called me. Two girls or women talking back and forth to each other, but not to my message machine, like my number was accidentally dialed. They talk about where they should have put the beer bottles, to one another. Most of the message I couldn't understand. I have the number. It's a Sweet Home based cell phone number I do not recognize. Well, kind of strange. 409-5703. Hmmm, can't figure out who was trying to call me or why. Oh well.

Anyhow, I'm tired out. Tomorrow, these two, the two females from two seperate places will get fixed at least. Probably the male will be caught, too, in the trap I left set out off Spicer.

My friends A and M are moving, leaving. They are moving to their house on the east coast, unable to afford both houses anymore. He can't get out of his OSU prof job, so he'll rent I guess during the school year. She's leaving for good, with the two cats they adopted from me a couple years ago, in two weeks.

It was a shock to hear she's leaving. I liked her. I figured I have two friends in Corvallis. She was one of them and I've kind of grown away from the other.

I admire the other, she's saved me twice at least, but we seem to be unable to get beyond our very basic differences. So, we've not really communicated much in months. A's leaving has me panicked inside, that I'm left alone here, without support at all and I didn't know how to react to the news of her leaving and so soon.

She wants to do something Thursday, go for a hike or something. I'm hurt that's she's leaving, feeling rather desperate that my one friend I could turn to is not going to be around anymore. And my hurt caused me to draw away from the offer of doing something together a last time on Thursday. I'm over that hurt and I hope to have a good time with her Thursday. I may never see her again.

AC Heaven

I'm living in AC Heaven. Outside, hell is burning. Not in here. I climbed the stairway into Heaven yesterday. A brother escaping his mother-in-law, a credit card and an AC unit were my tickets in. I suppose, when the electric bill comes, St. Pacific Power will toss my sorry butt back outside the Pearly Gates to smolder with all the other peon sinners unable to afford AC or the electric to run it.

I'll give up hot showers for my AC. I'll give up cooking for my AC. I'll give up my TV and PC, too, because all they do is stare back blankly when I implore "Couldn't you cool me off just a bit?"

It's my little AC that meets my needs now. All my other appliances are just not good enough. Saying "Bye bye" to them would be easy, in exchange for keeping my AC.

Sure, I am attached, maybe overly. But my AC saved me and saved my cats and if I seem overly affectionate, overly grateful and emotionally attached to a little lifesaving cold air blasting white metal box, BIG DEAL. I bet you are all attached to some metal object, too. A car? A piercing? A hunk of jewelry? An Ipod? A bike?

Everyone has their cherished little addictions to certain manufactured stuff.


So some of my rescued cats are also enjoying AC, including the feral older male "Tailchaser" from Camp Boondoggle.

I wonder what he thinks has happened to him.

Not only is he getting all the food he could ever eat in the world, but now, he's relaxing under an AC unit (he's in the rabbit hutch, in photo, to right of sweet AC unit). I guess he got lucky. Real lucky. He's got himself a barn home to go to, but first he needs some R&R. He's been seriously deprived of food too long.

I got lucky, too, when my brother pulled up in his pickup yesterday and said "Let's go find an AC." Like I'd turn down such an offer.

The unit says it will effectively cool 250 sq. ft. This house is only 325 sq. feet or so. That means it will damn near cool this place effectively. Some of the cool makes the corner into my bedroom, but not very much. So we hang out in the living room, all of us, drinking ice water.

Some of the cats will not come in, even though outside in that contained yard, it's like the Sahara. So I sprayed the yard wet with water. Five minutes later it was dry as a sand dune on the Sun.

I saw my neighbor putting out some sort of a smoldering fire by his back fence this morning and then got kind of worried. What the hell caused that? I had thought I heard him welding back there before I saw the smoke trickling up, but who would be welding outside in this heat, because of the threat of fire and because it's too damn hot to be welding outside.

Man is it hot. Keeping rescued cats alive in this heat is work and worry. But, currently.....we're living in AC Heaven.


 

Trying to save my cats from this heat. I put a frozen water bottle into water pans, all over the place, created shade, wet the ground and grass with a hose. It's been a nightmare, truely, trying to keep all these rescued cats and kittens alive in this heat. 

Boondoggle Betty

Boondoggle Betty with wormer on her face.

Betty, one of the last six cats I removed from Boondoggle, had come out of the brush to rub on my legs and beg for food. Even though her three kittens were ten weeks old, she was still nursing them because they had no other food source. I put Betty in a live trap to haul out and over the trains, leaving that camp and the misery it held for her behind. She'd eaten three cans of wet food in the trap, while she waited on me to catch other cats.

Betty went to a barn home with Big Ben. I have guilt over this. She's tame and wanted a home as a house pet. But I'm not even having success getting kittens homes right now, let alone adults, let alone BLACK adults, the hardest of all to place, even though they make the best non issued house cats. 

Big Ben

Big Boondoggle Ben--one of two big males Hillbilly and Rick left behind at base camp Boondoggle.

He and Boondoggle Betty, after they were fixed, went to a R. Crook in Philomath as barn cats. I am supposed to go check on them today. Both are very sweet friendly cats and I wish I could have found them house cat homes. It's sad that I couldn't, for them.

I'm overloaded with cats here, however.

I have Gracie and AbbySue, both adult females needing homes. I have some gorgoues fixed kittens, too,---Raggedy Ann, Starry, Hooch, Tin Can Tizzy and Apache, plus the three brothers Dodson, Taylor and Bugsy.

I've had no contacts off petfinder or adoption interests in quite some time. I have no venue for adoptions, as nonprofits do, and this is a HUGE problem. 

Boondoggle Bugs Attack My Gut Successfully.

I got a Boondoggle gut today. Probably giarrdia, an amoeba so small it is classed a bacteria. It is common for giardia or cocchidia to bloom in trash and feces filled areas. I tried to be careful out there. I wore latex gloves under leather gloves. But it got hot. At some point in that 13 hour day, I must touched my face or lips, or an open cut on my legs or arms or hands, of which I have many, and thus came in contact with something that found refuge inside me and thrived.

I have diarrhea.

Tain't fun having the runs in this heat either. It's currently 115 degress inside my place. Are we having fun yet?

Where oh Where have the Boondoggies Gone?

Pingaling, the last of Misty's kittens, is leaving today. The KVAL reporter who has done many stories on Camp Boondoggle is adopting her. I will miss Ping. She is also the last of the first 11 cats I removed from Camp Boondoggle June 7 to get a home. Well, except for Long Tom and Siletz. They went to SafeHaven to await adoption after I got them fixed through POPPA Inc.

Misty and Stormy (now named "Indie") went to a physician as shop and barn cats. She reports that Indie body slams her kitchen door when she wants inside. The cats are allowed in the kitchen but not in the rest of the house. She says Indie is already catching mice. She says Indie is sleeping with her dogs and follows her everywhere. Misty is more laid back. Indie has kind of a strong guard dog personality. She will attach herself to anyone who gives her love and food and becomes protective of that person.

Mango and Macadamia, Stormy's kittens, one boy, one girl, went to an Independence family with a little girl who wants to become a vet. She has a big dollhouse for them to play in and a purse for each kitten so she can carry them.

Jazz and Shasta, two of Misty's kittens, were adopted by the same couple who adopted the beautiful Siskiyou, a gorgeous torbi who was pregnant when she was spayed. They call her Suzy Q now. They had also taken Shasta when they adopted Siskiyou. But they came back up unable to put Jazz, Shasta's sister, out of their minds. They came back and adopted Jazz as well.

The cats are very happy there. Shasta and Siskiyou sleep with them on their bed, which is what they had looked for when they set out to adopt--super friendly and well-socialized cats. They said Shasta and Siskiyou were immensely entertaining, too, the way they played, even though one was a tiny kitten and the other an adult. So Jazz, Shasta and Siskiyou got a great home together.

As for Hiphop, Pingaling's lookalike brother, she went to a professor and his wife.

And that left just Ping. And today she is leaving, too. I will miss Ping.

Boondoggle Betty, Big Ben and Tailchaser, the three adults I removed three days ago from Boondoggle, are going to a Philomath shop cat home. They've all now been spayed and relieved of their numerous parasites. Big Ben and Boondoggle Betty are very tame while Tailchaser may be feral. I haven't personality checked him yet, since he was just neutered yesterday. Off they go. Today.

Boondoggle Betty's kittens---Hooch, Tin Can Tizzy and Apache are being fixed tomorrow in Salem. Then they will be up for adoption, too.

As for the rest of the Boondoggle cats, five are still in foster in Albany---the lovable laid back cats Cinnamon, Ginger and Shane, the torti Ghostfire, who is shy, and the little kitten I found in the rubble--Survivor. By tomorrow, she will be the only Camp Boondoggle cat I've removed who remains unfixed. She's too little.

The three kittens, BamBam, Dutch and Pebbles, went to three seperate homes. I've heard back from all three adoptors and they adore them. I believe BamBam's name has been changed to Bugsy and Pebblies name has been changed to "Nixie".

Claws, Jefferson and Boots, three big boys from the camps, especially Boots, went to a barn home. I still supply the woman who took them with cat food when I can. I have some for her now, in fact. I just need to get it to her.

I got homeless camper Rita's cats Gizmo and Mittens, both female, fixed for her before the bulldozing. She took them with her. She gave me over four kittens. The fosterer in Lebanon decided to keep two of them and a neighbor adopted two. But then tragedy struck and the Lebanon woman's old dog killed, accidentally, one of the kittens. The woman was traumatized and would not trust her dog with the other kitten. So the neighbor who had adopted the other two, adopted him also.


In other words, 8 of 32 Boondoggle cats I've fostered or had friends foster are still unplaced. That's really not too bad. I began the Boondoggle endeavor on June 7.

Friendly Kitten Play Turns Ugly When There's Just One Cat Toy

Dodson and Taylor in the heat of brotherly battle over a coveted cat toy. We can only be grateful that felines do not have opposible thumbs and access to weapons of mass destruction. 

Flea-ridden Kitten Says "Thank you for killing my parasites." You're welcome, little fella.

Hooch's brother Apache. His favorite thing about his new life is that all his blood and nutrient sucking parasites are deceased! 

Hooch Could Get Used to the Easy Life Easily

Hooch, liking his new life a whole lot. What's not to like? Soft beds. Unending plates of food. Lapsitting. TOYS! 

Hooch, one of the latest three kittens out of Camp Boondoggle. Hooch was the hold out, causing me misery. I had to stay in those trashy camps until 10:30 at night to catch him. I caught his sister, Tin Can Tizzy, and his brother, Apache, and even his mother, who was a pushover, knowing a good thing when she saw it. But Hooch held out, crying from the berry vines below one camp. He'd come up, then lose his nerve and run back into the briars, crying piteously. How was I supposed to go off and leave him there, even though I was tired out? What a softee I am. Hooch gave in, got in a trap and was so enamored with the pile of bait, he didn't even know the trap had sprung on him until the food was gone. 

Raggedy Ann, also of Maxine Street in Corvallis, eyes her sister Starry, who is below her. Seconds later she launches an all out attack. Her sister countered, because she saw it coming. Her sister, Starry, is a bit of a drama queen. 

Dodson and Bugsy, from Maxine Street, spar hardy. 

Tin Can Tizzy, TailChaser, Hooch, Apache, Big Ben and Boondoggle Betty

Those are the six names I came up with for the latest six snatches from Camp Boondoggle. What do you think?

Tin Can Tizzy, the little female kitten, I was told, used to chew the edges of tin cans, out at the camps, for any food left around the inside rim.

"Hooch" is the word former Boondoggies use to refer to their shanties or camps.

Unless I come up with house cat homes, the sweet lovable Big Ben, from Hillbilly's camp, and Boondoggle Betty, who is also sweet and tame, will go, along with Tailchaser, to a Philomath barn home Thursday. Big Ben and Tailchaser will be neutered tomorrow, thanks to POPPA Inc.

Doty, from Maxine Street, is leaving today, heading to her new home. Pingaling, from Camp Boondoggle is leaving for her new home on Thursday.

Is This the End of the World?

Killings galore, everywhere. Lebanon and Israel fighting again, endlessly, ever and always. 50 People gunned down like they were nothing in an Iraqi market. A Tsunami killed several hundred people in Java. Global Warming killing people and species and probably America is more to blame than other industrial nations.

Man. I thought our species run on Earth would be short. But it might be even shorter than my prediction.

At least my cats are still purring. Think I'll join them.

This Land is My Land, This Land is......

"I claim this land as MINE!" Yeah sure, it's a bit run down. It's a fixer upper. Got it dirt cheap." Letting it all hang out at Boondoggle. Man do I need to go on a diet. The ex Boondoggie took my photo. We hung out all day, swapping stories and catching cats. 

From out of the Rubble.......a kitten rises

There, in the midst of all that, is where I found a tiny kitten, still alive, who'd been alone out in the rubble without her mother for four days and somehow lived through it. Amazing.