Friday, September 29, 2006

Photos of Some of the Seven Market Cats Fixed Today




Three of the seven cats fixed today from the Market Colony. A gray and white female kitten. A gray and white female adult and a young muted torti--all fixed today, trapped yesterday.absp;Posted by Picasa

Love That Bottle!


Soapy sucks. Posted by Picasa

Juice, the kitten, Protects His Bottle


Juice reaches out a paw to shove his sister away from the bottle she is trying to steal from him. Posted by Picasa

Juice loves to sprawl out on his back to suck on the bottle filled with warm KMR. Soapy often scrambles to take the bottle from Juice, or vice versa. A mad kitten fight ensues. It's hysterical, and a little bit scarey. Posted by Picasa

Soapy takes her turn at the bottle while Juice investigates the camera. Posted by Picasa

Suck, Juice, suck! Posted by Picasa

"Juice" loves to suck. These are the bottle babes, one boy, one girl, found when only five days old out in the berry vines behind Carmike and Safeway. Posted by Picasa

Seven Market Cats to the Spay/Neuter Market Today

Seven cats, two boys, five girls, got fixed today. I trapped them at a local produce producer who works at a family run grocery in town here. Actually, he trapped five of the seven after I left him my traps. Plus he trapped an eighth cat. I knew her. But I hadn't seen her in three years. She's the orange cat originally from the Blodgett area, relocated with Rivergirl to a shop/barn cat position on White Oak about three years ago.

I re-trapped Rivergirl a year ago at the trailer park on White Oak, along with Cloudy, a young white female, by then with frostbite on her ears. It was cold that winter. The old woman who fed them had been threatened with eviction if she fed them. Imagine my surprise to find that one of them was Rivergirl. I hadn't seen her in two years, not since trapping her on the east banks of the Willamette when she was just a young thing, and relocating her, with the orange girl from Blodgett, to White Oak.

The people who'd taken the pair said they hadn't seen her in a year, when I called, and they didn't seem happy I was calling them to say Rivergirl was in my bathroom, staring up at me as I talked to them, purring her head off. So she went to another location and is doing fine there. They said the orange girl still hung out a lot in their shop. I also knew she trekked through the trailer park now and then.

The orange girl came from the Blodgett area. Senior Dog Rescue's Sue had asked me to take her on when the owner died out there, during a huge storm that came through. She'd taken in their dogs. Vicki and Doris took in the other cat from that situation. So Orange Girl had gone to White Oak also, and wanders a quarter mile stretch there, because she's kind of a chow hound. I was not at all surprised to see her in the trap. I pulled her out, confirmed it was her, told her it was nice to see her again, and let her go her way. She's an old cat now. She was five or six or more when I relocated her and this is three years later.

So the man caught five more cats after I left. I'd caught two immediately on the porch, including one of the two adult females. They all got fixed today.

He's paying the full cost of the spay/neuters.

I got in trade for helping him, some really lush wonderful melons from their fields. Those melons are so good, it's unbelievable, especially the ribbed cantelope. I ate one last night for supper--a whole cantelope! I had another half a melon this morning and for lunch--a quarter each time. I'm trying to draw them out some, enjoy them over a bit of time, rather than eat them all immediately. But they are so good, it is hard not to.

It was fair pay, a good trade.

This was a delightful trapping job. And every cat he fed was caught. Five females. Two males. They'll be sporting their freshly minted right eartips out there now, too.

Thursday, September 28, 2006

Being Left Out of the Will---It Hurts

It hurts to be left out of my parents will. It does. I won't deny it. It's been a rough couple of weeks for me, to find that out. My brother lied to me all summer. He claimed I was left a third, as an equal. Not true.

It hurts to be powerless. It hurts all over again, that most of my life was lost, because of the way my father behaved towards me in childhood. It hurts that nobody stuck up for me, defended me, then or now. It hurts to be treated like nothing, as my father did. He treated women like that, like they were made for men to use and that was their worth. It hurt to be abused further inside the mental health system, and then not to get justice for abuses, like the beating, or to have anyone care you almost killed and were badly hurt with a life changing injury. It hurts to know you're outside the regular people who count world.

So it brings up hurts all over again to be left out of the will, to know he plunged me into the life I then endured within the mental system and it's cojoined poverty.

My brothers are wealthy by this worlds' standards. One owns a company. The other is a corporate vice president. They work hard. So do I. I just don't happen to get paid for my hard work with the cats. But I still work hard.

They're getting everything. I'm getting nothing. It hurts. It's not fair.

God bless those fighting child molestation and abuse. God bless the poor. God bless me and the stray cats.

Child abusers suck. So do those who defend them or make excuses for them or disregard the act as insignificant because they do not value women or children.

Justice counts you know. It makes a person feel worthy. And if they don't get justice, they don't feel like they're the same as other people who do get justice. I wanted justice for my father's actions. I wanted justice for the beating I took at Portland Adventist that drove a neck disc into my spinal cord and changed my life. Finally, I just gave up on ever getting justice.

And I laugh now (inside myself, not outside) when people repeat the pledge, like its truth, and when they say the words "liberty and justice for all". There are a lot of people out there just like me.

I don't even know what love is, human to human love that is. I think of it as mythical really, although inside I have a yearning to love, so I surmise love can be real between two people, even though I've not known it.

I also tend to think of rich people as mythical because I don't know anybody rich, except my brothers might be, but I don't really know them very well, or know if they are really rich, compared to what rich is supposed to be. We've never really known one another. I've rarely even seen them in my adult life.

I want to love them, but I don't even know them, and our differences are extreme and the paths our lives took after we left that house. What I'm saying is, I don't have family.

Everyone should have someone who loves them and to love.

I ended up real young in the mental health system, drugged into a zombie, with no future. I believed the wrong people. I trusted the wrong people.

And now I've left it. And that is a crowning acheivement greater than anything my brothers will ever accomplish I would guess. Took a lot of fortitude to leave those psyche drugs and therapy behind, to not believe them and believe myself instead, when I'd been called crazy for decades. It's the cats I owe that to. They gave me guts and love.

I need to be proud of what I've done. I need to try to forget the thirty lost useless years inside that awful hopeless system. I need to forget my first twenty years, too, locked into a childhood with a man who should not have had children. At least not girl children.

So I need to forget all but about the last five years of my life. That's a big undertaking. And yet all my life has produced me. It's who I am. What you don't get or do get as a child, is huge in influencing your life, the most important years, the formative years.

In the last five years of my life, I've trapped thousands of cats for spay/neuter, saved thousands of lives. Guess I compressed a whole lot of work into a few short years and ongoing. My life wasn't wasted then, not altogether. I did something.

If you've got a family and love, then you've got something and you don't need to do anything more, but love and protect and harbor that family, in my opinion. But if you have no family or love, it's harder. Then you've got to figure some other way to feel meaningful in this world, I think.

Hard to overcome the affect of bad experience on formative years. And yet those years are me. I've turned some corners and not turned others. I've helped a lot of cats. I will never have it easy. I guess I thought I might have it a bit easier with money from that will. I should have known that's not my road.

I'll be reviewed by social security on my SSI again in 2009. At the time of the last review, I'd just been beaten on that psyche ward, and had to fight then for treatment of the injury. In a review of SSI claims, they want to see if you've significantly improved so that you can now work. In other words, if you are no longer disabled.

I refused the interview by a shrink and told the state I'd only go, if accompanied by body guards since I considered shrinks dangerous people, given all the abuse I endured at the hands of psychiatry. I'd also just left the mental health system, too, and discovered I was perfectly fine, that almost three decades of my life were wasted away in subjective faulty psyche diagnoses and lies. That too was such an unbelievable revelation. I could not believe, actually, that I was indeed not mentally ill, that psychiatry was that bad at what they do.

In 2009, I will be reviewed again. There is a strong possibility, that I will then be discontinued from SSI. I don't even know how to think about this possibility or how to approach it in my mind. I'll be 53 without any work history whatsoever. Psychiatry told me when I was diagnosed variously, first as schizophrenic then many more were added, that this was for life, that I could forget ever holding a job or finishing school or marrying, etc.

I was a young student without self-esteem, lost, depressed and needful to please male authority figures, like shrinks. I was a person who had never even heard of mental illness, due to my isolated religious education. I couldn't even kiss a boyfriend, because if I got close to it, his face would come back to me as my fathers. I would even smell my father, see his hairy fat eyebrows. I'd have to turn away. I suppose my main problem, looking back, was absolutely zero self-esteem.

Psychiatry's "help" was extreme drug pushing. Once in the system, everything I did was pathological, usually, according to shrinks and caseworkers. If I was in the system now, my cat trapping would most likely be somehow pathologized or included as a symptom of mental illness. That's just the way it is. One is also taught to view oneself and thoughts as pathological. Anyhow, I could go on and on.

My fear is, I will be soon kicked off SSI, as "improved". I guess I thought maybe inherited money might buffer me from the results of that upcoming review, make it easier to survive if I get the boot off SSI.

What a fucking joke my life has been. One big fucking joke.

I'm writing a book. I hope I can make it sellable. And I have a children's book about cats, sort of about cats, I'm looking to market. So far, just rejection letters, but I'm still trying.

I have two skills:

One of those skills is, I can trap any cat alive. I have a kinship with animals, a spiritual connection with animals.

My other skill? I can write.

I'd never exploit the first skill for money over ethics.

With the other skill, well it's up for grabs.

There are lots of folks like me out there, child abused people, who struggle with old issues and will struggle most if not all their lives. Bless you all. And you abusers out there, wherever you are, You're Going to Hell and the sooner the better. And in the meantime, maybe we need ninja squads who neuter the bastards.

Daisy Up Your World

Commenters on my blog sometimes claim I'm just not very nice--too negative. I am often negative. True! I will remind people who read this once again, as I have posted approximately once every three months, on various blogs, many discontinued, that my encounters with people are like a snapshot in the movie of both our lives. I don't see their whole movie. They don't see mine. Therefore, any judgements I make, any knowledge I have of that person is that moment where our life movies intersect. A snapshot. And biased! Because I haven't seen the whole movie and neither have they.

And yet the interactions of our collision, the brief guest appearances on one another's movie, are real for both of us, leaving us both with impressions of the other that often are very limited because we know nothing of one another's struggles.

What you read on this blog is my reactions to the snapshot interaction--how I am affected by this brief interaction, in some way, which may be inconsistent with the rest of their movie, then that is what I get and it's what I react to and vice versa.

If you can't handle that, don't read this blog.

Am I wrong in my impressions of people? Sure I am. Lots of times. Most likely not, however, in my assessment of my interaction with them and how I have been affected, but remember, it's a snapshot, of their life and mine, so I'm not seeing anything but what happens in a brief encounter. I'm judging a moment.

Judgements I make then are not the whole picture. Remember that, for gosh sakes, and judge accordingly. People change. I've changed. People go off angrily or judgementally one moment, due to their own personal pressures, or, as I do often, due to lack of sleep, pain, exhaustion, or sadness, combo of afore mentioined things, plus many other triggers. I understand that. Do you?

We might be too nansy pansy around here. Should I daisy up my blog? Say only good things about people who may actually not be behaving "good", as I define the term, and there are many definitions of "good", too, and in many of them, I'm a very bad person. Maybe I'll try it. We abused women do love to please.

Yes, I am deeply affected, financially and emotionally, by people in this area who ask me to help with cat issues. So what? I still do it, love doing it, am good at doing it. I get the job done. You don't have to like me, but I get the job done.

Yes, I get tired out and that colors my world black. I live alone and am alone 99% of the time. This also colors my world black. I have lived a life of being put down and abused. This colors my world black. I am poor and struggle to survive. This colors my world black.

Don't like it? Can't handle my harsh world? Then don't read this blog. America the free.

I don't have to like everyone, you know. I don't have to pretend that everything in my life is wonderful and that i have plenty of spare money that covers helping all these cats, for the sake of my readers who want an easy read.

Conversely, you don't have to like me or agree with me or be nice to me. This is a free country. Everyone is free to think as they please also. I do believe that being too nice, too agreeable, that unwillingness to criticize constructively a program, person, business, etc, keeps change from happening and often keeps the blinders on.

Must I say it again? My reactions expressed in this blog to people might seem negative and sometimes they are. I sometimes go back and change an entry to reflect more sleep, less pain, whatever, or, because I've gotten new information, or seen things in a different light. Sometimes I forget to change my blog entries even though I've seen things differently. So what?

I'm saying here, I'm not a molded piece of plastic. I change. Daily I change. I learn new things, I forgive myself things. I forgive others thing. I make mistakes. Plenty of them. Sure. I get angry. I resolve it. I'm human. Forgive me my human nature. I forgive yours.

I see other people, in my limited encounters, through the eyes of what I've gone through, what I have experienced in my past and even through the eyes of what I experienced the night before or moments before. You see me in this manner also. Tainted vision? Of course it is. We all have tainted biased vision.

But for the sake of open-mindedness, I'll daisy it up for awhile. I hope to satisfy those out there, pleeeeaaaasssseeee my readers, with only the white side, the beautiful life, the fuzzy duzzy wonderful sunny world. Although, the world in which I've lived and the world I sometimes visit now, to help animals in some situations of dire straits, is shaded gray or even black.

Daisy up your world with me. Don those rose colored glasses. Come on.

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

Philomath Girl Might Make it After All

That little brown tabby girl kitten, who has been struggling to live since her spay, because of parasite infestations, just might make it. I gave her fluids today once already and am about to give her more. Tonight, she wandered out of the carrier where she'd been snuggling a hot water bottle all day, and began eating on her own. I was unbelievably thrilled.

I think the catlax last night, late, well, really very early in the morning, is what got her through. She's pooping them out, rather than trying to cough up the tangles of worms.

The fluids have also helped tremendously.

Unbelievably, one massive strongyle worm, in her poop, was still alive, curling up and around. I'd given her a second dose of worm meds, also, last night. I was worried she might not be able to handle another dose, but also knew she wouldn't live if I didn't get the worms out of her. And for her to still poop one out alive this morning is troublesome.

Roundworms are persistent and deadly. When there is not enough room in the gut, larvae migrate into organs, even into the eyeballs. When the gut is emptied of adult worms, in worming, the larvae say "Hey, vacancy!" and migrate into the gut and mature. This is why roundworming is only effective if done at least three times two weeks apart.

Heavy infestations of Roundworms can and do kill cats and kittens.

And this is also why I wish I had more Revolution. It's wonderful to be able to give ferals that back of neck treatment. It kills roundworms, earmites, lice, fleas and flea eggs for an entire month. Imagine the long term relief that gives a feral, trapped for fixing, then released.

I have a simple rig I use to give ferals Advantage or, preferably, Revolution, through the mesh of a trap. It's simply a one cc syringe taped to the end of a mini blind pull. I have another mine blind pull rod zip-tied to the other first mini blind pull rod, but above the level of the syringe plunger of the syringe taped to the first pull. I plunge the syringe filled with the appropriate dose of back of neck treatment after even parting the cats' hair, to get to skin, with the tip of the syringe, and all through the mesh of a trap. Simple no cost rig.

Four tame cats from Sweet Home were fixed today in Jefferson courtesy of POPPA. Two were females and two were males. They have already returned to their home.

I've already fed the bottle babes. I'm putting the trash out tonight, near the road so I don't have to rise early to do it. And I'm going to bed.

Update: the brown tabby is still doing poorly, coughing and choking. I am now wondering if she was trach tubed for surgery. Sometimes trach tubes inflame or even puncture the esophogus. But then I asked the Philomath woman if she'd been sick before and she said she'd been going downhill, before the spay. Why wouldn't she have told me that? Well, duh. She's the one who claimed not to know fleas were bad for cats.

I am worried about distemper coming in here. I am wondering about alimentary lymphoma, although she has no signs of leukemia, like white gums or diarrhea. Her stools are solid and she has no temperature. So I'm back to esophogal damage from either worms or a trach tube, congenital or worm caused heart damage, a worm clog in the stomach, or tumor.

She'll be going to the vet tomorrow, if she is still among the living. I'll have to find a way to pay.

As a precaution, I vaccinated the two bottle babes, even though they are only two and a half weeks old. The minimal age at which one can vaccinate is two weeks, but no real protection occurs until the second vaccination boosts the first and causes an immune response to the first vaccine, so that antibodies are created to the agents within the first vaccine. A cats immune system does not fully form until I believe four months of age. Or is it six months?

Everyone else in here, including the newcomers Beanie and his sister Berryblack are vaccinated.

I've seen what distemper can do, especially to immune compromised cats, spreading from there, as the two females still in the bathroom from the Philomath trailer are immune compromised. They are immune compromised due to heavy parasite infestations, malnutrition and recent spay.

One viral molecule of distemper gets in here, even on my shoes, and they're gone, closely followed by the bottle babes. The other kittens, Beanie, Berryblack and Cattyhop, might get sick but likely their vaccination status would help them overcome the virus. I have also begun general lysine in the wet food. Lysine acts as an anti viral by inhibiting its cell growth but must be used in limited fashion with kittens.

Yes, I am paranoid about distemper. I don't like having such compromised cats in here, with one of them sick of unknown cause, especially with the bottle babes here. Makes me nervous.

Brown Tabby Kitten of Philomath Five Deteriorates

The Philomath woman picked up three of the Philomath Five just now. I wouldn't give up the two young females, one of whom, the little brown tabby girl, tried to die last night and still may die. She gave me $40 in reimbursement.

I spent: gas money to and from Jefferson; four three-way vaccinations and syringe/needles so far (didn't have the fifth for the tabby and besides, right now, she can't take a vaccination)--$12.50. Round and tapeworm meds for all five---$10. Advantage for all five: $10. Fluids and rig for sub qu fluid delivery for brown tabby five month old: $15; Pet Tinic, of which I was out, a pet vitimin high in iron useful in kittens and cats with flea anemia--$14. External ivermectin for earmites--$8.

I believe the young female has balls of worms, now dead, that are blocking her stomach valves or clogging up her stomach or entrenched in her esophogus. She only coughs after she takes some food mixed in water or KMR and only after three or four syringe fulls. To me, this means she clogged and can't get these clogs of worms up or through. It could be her heart, too, not able to take the anesthesia load with all her parasite problems and anemia from parasites. But I don't think this is the case. I don't think this because her gums are pink. She is still cold, which can be a sign of a heart problem or just severe stress or even the anemia and malnutrition.

I know she's not FIV/Felk positive. I've had a lot of experience. Cats this malnourished and flea and parasite infested would have long ago succombed to these immune suppresant viruses if they were positive for either. I'm trying to engage her desire to live, by encouraging her, petting her, holding her, loving her. She is not going back, if she lives, I've already decided that. If she lives, she deserves something better and I will tell that woman straight up, that's the price for me helping her with so many cats and sacrificing like I have to help her out. I think she'll let it go then, because she knows what I've done for her and how much better their lives are now, because every cat up there now is fixed.

She didn't have to let these cats go like she did. She claims she didn't know fleas are bad for cats or that cats get worms. She claims her vet should have educated her on this when she took some of her other cats in, for medical problems or to be fixed. Well, I don't necessarily believe that she was not educated by a vet on worm and flea issues, but if the vet, whomever her vet is, failed to do so, that's not cool. But I do disbelieve this woman's word on this matter, since I myself educated her back in May on the issue.


I took the four Sweet Home cats up to Jefferson this a.m., actually surprised to find the brown tabby female, of the Philomath Five, still alive this morning in my bathroom. I was up trying to keep her alive last night until I couldn't stay awake anymore. These cats have: lice, earmites, fleas, round and tapeworms and are nutritionally compromised.

I became so exhausted and distraught as I watched her cough and choke whenever she even tried to take a sip of water or after I would feed her from a syringe a mixture of water and wet food, and some nutrical, that I finally e-mailed Heartland, basically upset that animal control, despite repeat attempts by myself and a family member of the woman, to get them involved in this situation over months, did not.

I don't know why. Maybe he had many many other cases. I've heard, and this is just basically gossip, that he gets sometimes 70 calls per day. This is the county man. And now he's running for sheriff and that takes time, doesn't it, putting up write-in signs, managing a late game campaign? But who could blame him for trying to get ahead, or getting out of the animal control thing, where there is never really a bright side. Pay is not that great, I would bet, and if he were sheriff, high pay and power. What's not to like in such a job, especially for a guy.

But I felt betrayed last night, exhausted and broke, stranded, alone, bearing the financial and emotional costs of severely neglected cats.

I asked if perhaps Heartland could help me out in the e-mail, like with parasite control products and vaccinations. I doubt that will happen. It's always about money. Not enough of it, generally.

A West Fir woman is now getting to utilize Greenhills new spay/neuter clinic to the tune of getting 15 community cats, feral or owned, fixed per week. Plus she's now getting paid to stay and help out on surgery days. Now that's cool. She does the same thing I do, only in Lane County, and it is wonderful that she and Greenhill have a mutually beneficial partnership. Greenhill even paid a huge sum for attorney fees to help her get nonprofit status. Mutually beneficial.

I was hoping for even small amounts of help from Heartland. I know they likely do not have the donations Greenhill gets. Now and then, they help by letting me get a cat or two fixed there, most often a male or two, rarely females, because they take much longer. I am grateful for this, although it's rare that I get in any in.

I admire the young girls working there at Heartland. At least Heartland pays a living wage with benefits because they get money from the city. But that does also challenge their finances. I couldn't work there. I couldn't in a million years. I could never kill what I love like they do there, in such large numbers.

So my contribution is out there, out in the neighborhoods, under the trailers, up in the lofts of barns, crawling through shit and flea infested trailers of collectors, trying to stem the tide of unwanted and neglected animals.

It's an easier job I think, than what they do, killing cats like they have to there. But if I did work there, loving cats like I do, that shelter wouldn't be killing cats in such numbers, because my number one priority, that would occupy me day and night, until I succeeded, if I worked there, would be high volume spay/neuter with community funding.

The tide needs stemmed and those in a position to do it need to do it. In my opinion, a shelter is where animals find protection and solace, not death.

Tuesday, September 26, 2006

Cattyhop Yaaaawwwwnnnnnns


Cattyhop, caught in mid yawn. Posted by Picasa

Photo is of Cattyhop, in mid leap, while Rasto, recently adopted out, chases his own end of the string. Posted by Picasa

Me and the two bottle babes, found back of the parking lot between Carmike and Safeway in the berry vines, screaming alongside a dead sibling. Posted by Picasa

Bangor checks out the bottle babes living room hutch. I had to move them out into the living room, since the Philomath Five are still occupying my bathroom. They did not come out of anesthesia well, so they remained here overnight, rather than return to Philomath. This morning, they're all awake and eating well. I wormed them and soon will be cleaning their ears which are laden in mites. I wish I still had some Revolution, but I ran out and am currently money shy. So I won't be able to purchase more for some time. In the meantime, I'll treat mites the old fashioned way---work, Q-tips, soapy water, then ivermectin mixed in olive oil. Posted by Picasa

Me and the little black girl from the Corvallis homeless camps. Yup, she's a bottle babe. Posted by Picasa

Monday, September 25, 2006

Mighty Fine Barn Home


The stall door, behind which, Rum and Kahlua, currently reside, for about two weeks, then they'll join farm life in rural central Oregon. AKA Cat Heaven.

The husband of the family works often seven days a week. That's because he owns a contracting business and he can't find reliable white boy workers. They don't want to work hard, his wife says, or if there's weekend work, they're history. So he ends up taking up the slack since he can't find young strong white boy labor in mid central Oregon.

I've heard this everywhere, from dairy farmers, to grass seed farmers, to contractors, etc. "Can't find good white boy labor."

Some guy who got his ass fired, or he quit, don't know which for sure, for being a bad white boy laborer, told me all about the problem once, too, over his beer, pretty much pathetic.

He told me how his employer wanted him to work outragious hours and even stay on the work site for his half hour lunch break, because he'd had so much trouble with the white boy laborers heading off and not coming back on time.

Then he said he hurt his thumb and that employer wouldn't give him medical break and that's when he decided to quit. And he did. And he told me all this as he hugged his 40 ozer and I came to think, later on, he quit because he loved his forty ozers maybe a bit more than getting a paycheck. Yes, he was living with his mother, at this point. Posted by Picasa

Rum, the cat, waltzes into Respectability.


And here's Rum, gone from the path of Home Depot bulldozers and out in the far country in all I can describe as cat heaven, complete with catnip fields next door. See what I mean? Cat Heaven. Yeah.

I got her a job, see. A cushy position doing what's she's already good at doing. This job pays benefits. She and her sister aren't going through trash cans and scratching at parasites anymore. They're respectable employed loved owned cats now. Yup.

Wish I had some rum, you know, to drink. Right now, too. Oh well. Posted by Picasa

'Well this photo doesn't adequately show the luxerious relocation accomadations for Rum and Kahlua, at their new barn home, a.k.a. cat heaven. That's because I screwed the photo up big time. Anyhow, you're looking through the wire over the stall door into a large stall lined in cedar chips, with two different roomy beds, with blankets, a covered litterbox, although I told them to take the cover off or the girls would use it as a bed, food, water, toys, etc. Next door neighbor grows catnip. These girls will be frolicking in catnip fields forever. Posted by Picasa

Kahlua, Now Resides in Cat Heaven. Wish I was There.


Photo is of Kahlua--that's her new name. I trapped her first I believe in July or was it June. June I guess it was. Then I returned her, along with two others females I'd trapped, same place, at the back of the parking lot between Safeway and Carmike, after they were spayed.

Well last week, in a brilliant stupid all nighter, if I may say so myself, I retrapped her and her friend, Rum, the all balck previously spayed female. I'd already retrapped the third female and relocated her.

So Rum and Kahlua, as they are now known, formerly known as homeless starving cats without anywhere or anybody, today went to the best barn home situation you could imagine in the world. They had a stall ready for them, as a relocation center. No cage. Nope. A stall. Two beds. Covered litterbox. Really cushy. I was jealous.

So now, these two girls have got it made. It's cat heaven there. And they're in it.

Now I'm back here, with five collector cats, who did not come out of anesthesia in any normal fashion, in my bathroom. I figure their severe flea anemia has affected their recovery from anesthesia, since they need oxygen to help them rid anesthesia from their bodies, and anemia causes reduction in red blood cells, therefore hemoglobin and hemoglobin helps carry oxygen.

So there you have it.

Stupid collector with all her excuses and these cats suffer so, as a result.

Boy I wish I did not have to take them back. But I do, because law enforcement didn't get involved. You know, Animal Control?

Don't you wish we had Animal Planet type animal control people aaround here? Man, I do. Then people hurting little cats would come to justice. I suppose that would take money to fund. But as it is, without law backing, they don't have much hope.

I will treat them like kings and queens tonight here. I got some chicken and I am cooking it. Not for me, for them. Poor little lost waifs.

After roundworming them, they pooped out and coughed up big fat snakelike roundworms. Never seen such fat roundworms. I just tapewormed them, too, and I spent an hour or more cleaning their ears of earmite debris. The Philomath woman who "owns" these cats vows she will now treat them and all the others for tape and roundworms, fleas and earmites routinely.

I will hope she will make this change to provide parasite treatment for her cats. Posted by Picasa

Five Philomath Flea Infested Collector's Cats being Fixed Today

I was finally able to get ahold of those five cats, four older kittens and their mother, from that Philomath addicted gambler and collector. The vet office called me just now, concerned that they are SEVERELY flea-infested. I told them the moment I picked them up from her this morning, I climbed into the back of my car and applied Advantage to the four kittens. But I didn't have enough for the mom. I told them if it is going to be a problem at their clinic to go ahead and flea treat the mother and I'd pay for it. I have some Advantage here, just didn't take enough to do all five. I had thought she had told me there were only three kittens.

I will also worm the cats, at my expense, before returning them, because this is the only chance they'll ever get for any treatment of any kind. I will vaccinate them also. This will affect my financial situation, but what else can I do? This woman doesn't have a heart. She told me again she'd make a donation, like last time, when I spent all night in my car outside their place trapping 12 ferals while they slept. I knew those cats would never have another chance in the world. She never made the donation.

I held off the last month, telling her I wouldn't fix her latest cats without a donation. She steadfastly refused to promise even $10. That's because she saves all her money for gambling.

So I fought within myself over it. I tried to get Heartland to help me get the county animal control officer again involved, to back me up. But no backing came from that source.

Finally, I resigned myself to the fact of what she is, and that I would voluntarily sacrifice to help those cats, because otherwise it would never happen and they'd have kittens and the kittens would have kittens......

These sorts of situations are the stuff of nightmares and stomach acid build up. These situations create resentment inside me, when I'm tired, over all the abuses and unfairness I've encountered, of the curse of a kind heart.

These situations build up resentment against my father who abused me, then left me out of his will.

Sure would help to have law enforcement back up or even people who understand to talk to about all the sorrows and pain involved in daily sacrifices to help animals. Or anyone to talk to, for that matter, and to have some fun with.

I'm about to feed the bottle babies again, then head up to the Silverton area with the two adult females from behind Carmike, to deliver them to their new barn home. On the way back, I'll pick up the five Gamblers Non-anonymous cats, vaccinate and worm them, perhaps keep them here overnight, because she'll not care for them well after their surgeries.

Wednesday, four cats from Sweet Home will be fixed courtesy of POPPA. These are the friends of the people who adopted Taylor and two of the kittens from these folks, I think it is, who did not fix their cats.

I still have five kittens needing homes--the two bottle babies, from behind Carmike and Safeway, Beanie and Berryblack, both from behind Carmike and Safeway, then Cattyhop, from the Slaughterhouse colony.

Sunday, September 24, 2006

Bottle Babies, from pack parking lot of Carmike, ARE BACK with me.



These are the two tiny kittens, suffering from extreme diarrhea, that the colony caretaker found, along with another dead kitten, and possibly a dead adult, a couple weeks ago out in the berry vines back of the parking lot between Carmike and Safeway.

The little black kitten is slightly deformed. Her tail vibrates, and her back legs are splayed some and she has some difficulty walking. This is consistent with a not quite completely formed spinal cord. She'll likely be fine. Her biggest problem is the sores from the diarrhea that dripped down her butt and back legs, have not healed yet.

She's a bit odd in appearance, too. I will take her to a vet once she gets a bit larger, to be sure her heart actually is not defective. The kittens now are about two and a half weeks old. They still must be bottle fed.

I'm not exactly thrilled over getting them back, just because of all the work and sleep deprivation involved with bottle babies. Posted by Picasa

Bottle Babes are back. The Heartland staff member who was fostering them had a dog bring ringworm into her house. She didn't want the two bottle babes, from behind Carmike, exposed. So back they are---here with me. They've grown some in two weeks. Posted by Picasa

List of Some of the Colonies I've Trapped This Summer

32 Cats and Kittens from Camp Boondoggle--the Albany homeless camp whose human residents were evicted after which the camps were bulldozed: Removed, fixed and placed 32 cats and kittens from the camps.

16 Cats/Kittens trapped, fixed and removed from Corvallis Homeless Camp. The area is being bulldozed to make room for Home Depot and other businesses, displacing campers and cats.

12 Cats trapped, netted or hand grabbed, fixed and placed from Maxine Street in Corvallis. This happened after a call from the Corvallis Animal Control officer the morning I needed to be back in Camp Boondoggle and I was exhausted from dealing with the Boondoggle cats. He wanted me to "assess" a feral cat situation. The cats all would have been killed at Heartland if he had handled this. I was upset that he involved me, when I was already so inundated and exhausted with the Boondoggle cats. I don't trap cats when people complain for them to be killed out of human convenience. I'm on the cats side. And so, I ended up with all of them here and many of the eight kittens were very ill. But in the end, they all got homes. The last to leave was the beautiful Taylor.

Two male kittens fixed for the couple who adopted Taylor. They'd gotten them from a friend with an unfixed female. Those folks, with the unfixed female, have now contacted me and hopefully that cat will be fixed this next week.

12 Cats/Kittens Slaughterhouse Colony. I have thus far trapped four adults, three females and one male, gotten them fixed and returned them to the colony caretaker. In addition, I trapped/netted six very ill kittens there. They had severe diarrhea. This caused me great stress as my foster room is my bathroom. I had to pay for an extra garbage pickup, (a big deal to someone on my income) because of the mess involved in such extremely ill kittens. I paid for them to be tested, also. But in the end, the woman reimbursed that cost. And the kittens all lived. Five of the six are now in homes. Cattyhop remains here awaiting adoption.

17 adults/kittens House of Orange in Monroe. I kept the nine kittens, got them fixed and placed them in homes. Rasto, who left Friday, was the last of the House of Orange kittens to get a home. The adults, two orange females, one pregnant torti, three orange males, a black male and a brown tabby male were returned after being fixed.

12 more Heatherdale Cats/Kittens. I was told by a resident of Heatherdale trailer park in Albany, where I'd already gotten over 70 feral and owned cats fixed, that there were more unfixed cats. So I tracked them down, trailer by trailer, and got 12 more cats fixed at that Albany trailer park.

8 Cats Fixed from various neighbors in an area off Smith Loop Rd. off 99W south of Corvallis.

10 downtown Jefferson cats fixed. Three female kittens, one pregnant female and one lactating female fixed for one downtown Jefferson family. Three strays, two of them female fixed living in alley behind their house. One of these strays, an abused tame female, got a home after her spay. One female and one female kitten fixed for a neighbor.

Three kittens, two pregnant females fixed for an Albany family. The pregnant female was a feral they fed and mother of the three kittens they'd taken in and tamed.

6 strays being fed in an Albany neighborhood fixed after finding these wonderful folks when calling free kitten ads.

Five Park St. Strays trapped and fixed after they were abandoned by evicted tenants. All were placed.

12 ferals trapped/fixed/returned for a Philomath couple. The woman is an addicted gambler. I trapped the 12 ferals outside myself, in an all nighter, while they slept. She promised me a donation and never fulfilled that promise.

She had told me all summer she has another female, tame, that she somehow didnt' tell me about the first time I was there, who has now had more kittens, who needs fixed, and who is pregnant again. And yet, because of her addiction to coastal casinos, she never keeps appointments to meet me with any of the other unfixed cats. This is an ongoing frustrating gut churning situation. None of their animals are adequately cared for, including the dogs. The house is pure filth, too. Complaints have been filed against her with animal control by at least one family member I know of, with no response, that I am aware of.

Two kittens at least died of severe flea anemia. She left me a message that she had a very ill kitten but that she had no money to take him to the vet and I should come get the kitten if I get the message within the hour otherwise she'd be gone.

I didn't get the message within an hour. She did leave, to go gamble and put the kitten outside. A family member went up and found the kitten, who had just died, alive with fleas. She buried the kitten and filed a complaint with animal control.

Two cats fixed for a family member of above woman who rescued the kittens in Philomath after intercepting a man taking them down to throw them and the mother, whom she could not save, into the Mary's River.

These are only some of the situations I've dealt with this summer in getting cats fixed and often placed in new situations.

Priority Uno


Beanie, up top, Berryblack, and Cattyhop engage in a kittens' number one priority--play! Posted by Picasa

Cattyhop and Berryblack (a temp name until I come up with something better) watch a feather toy I'm swinging. Posted by Picasa

Beanie, and his sister, on left, play together. This little girl was a pushover into house pet life. She dropped the feral act within hours after she was trapped. Starving she was, cold, too, and so so hungry. Beanie, her brother, has introduced her to the joys of play. Posted by Picasa

Abby and Gracie Get Homes




Abby the Abbysinian mix from Park St. in south town Corvallis got a great home yesterday. And so did Gracie. She got a home Friday.

Abby was left behind, along with several other cats, when two men were evicted from a Park St. rental house. The eviction was nasty, with court involvement and alleged extensive damage to the rental. I was called in by a neighbor to help save these left behind cats. I trapped four of them. Abby was among those four---young, hungry and pregnant at time of spay. She's been here for a few months.

The Salem couple who came down after seeing her on my petfinder site are wonderful people. Their own cat had died of kidney failure in her old age a few weeks ago. They knew she was leaving them and they slept with her between them on her last night.

I couldn't find Abby right before they were to arrive yesterday. I panicked. She was always here and would come out from wherever she was sleeping when I called. They arrived and I still couldn't find her. I was almost in tears, mainly out of exhaustion. Miss Daisy had made sleep difficult the night before, with loud playing half the night. And I thought somehow Abby must have exited my house or contained yard in the night.

The couple gave me their cell phone number and left. Almost immediately, Abby strolled out, yawning and stretching. I called the cell number immediately, overjoyed inside myself. The couple came back and off Abby went to her new home.

Gracie had left the day before to her new home here in town. This, too, was a wonderful home opportunity. Gracie came to me in a trade, from the woman who had first adopted Stormy of Boondoggle, then Misty. She had adopted Gracie and her sibling from Heartland.

They had arrived at Heartland as owner surrender. Gracie's sibling almost immediately disappeared from the woman's garage and Gracie became fearful of leaving the garage and would hide all day.

The woman contacted me convinced Gracie didnt' want to be a garage/outside cat in a mousing position and she needed mousers that would get along with her two big dogs and also be willing to come inside the house, into her kitchen. So off went Stormy, the over confident young black female from Camp Boondoggle. She loved Stormy and who wouldn't? She later told me Stormy immediately bonded with and often bossed around her two large dogs and would body slam the kitchen door when she wanted inside.

But Stormy also harrassed Gracie, she said, and could she trade Gracie for a cat Stormy already knew, like Misty. I had removed Misty and Stormy along with their combined six kittens in the first trip into Boondoggle. Stormy had two kittens, but one of them she'd stolen after misplacing most of her own litter. She was a first time mother and first time mothers often screw up. But Stormy couldn't abide the fact she'd lost all but one of her new litter. Several days after this happened, the campers told me, she returned carrying a much larger kitten she'd stolen from another mother out at the camps. That's Stormy for you.

So off went Misty to join Stormy (now named 'Indy") and Gracie came here. She was immediately overjoyed to be inside sleeping next to someone in a bed. That was in July she came here. She went to a home Friday. I was worried some, I must admit. The woman is in an electric wheelchair. I wondered if the noise of that might at first put her off.

It did. I came home last night and a friend of hers had left me a message telling me to call her, that Gracie was still hiding under the bed. So I called and the woman put me on speaker phone, just for her ease. But Gracie heard me over the speaker phone and she heard Miss Daisy screaming in the background. Miss Daisy like to roll around on her back on a carpeted shelf, scratching herself. This feels so good that deaf Miss Daisy starts screaming in delight. She often gets so into this, rolling and wiggling on her back, that she ends up falling off the shelf. Miss Daisy was engaged in this delightful activity as I was speaking on the phone to Gracie's adoptor. Gracie also heard Miss Daisy over the speaker phone.

I could hear Gracie begin to mew in the background over the phone and I began speaking to her directly. The woman was flabergasted as Gracie emerged from underneath the bed, began herself rolling around on her back on the floor, then hopped onto her lap and began to purr. So it all ended up well for Gracie last night. The breakthrough occurred. She's a wonderful cat now in a wonderful home.

Saturday, September 23, 2006

Kitten from Carmike Skin and Bones

The kitten, Beanie's sister, I trapped last week in an all nighter behind Carmike and Safeway, is skin and bones. She'd gone two weeks without eating and just barely survived that. She is in my bathroom recuperating from the spay and from the starvation. She purrs when I touch her. It won't be long before she regains her strength and her weight. She's eating everything in sight.

The two adults also are happy to have been saved from the knawing starvation they had experienced out there after their caretaker went into a psyche ward. They too are eating everything I put before them. Monday, I will take them to their new home.

Gracie went to a home last night. I hope it works out for her and for the woman who adopted her. Her own cat had died awhile back of old age. A couple from Salem will be here shortly to look at Abby. They lost their Abbysinian three weeks ago to old age and want to replace her with another Abbysinian.

Rasto also went to his new home yesterday.

When so many cats suddenly are adopted, the others get nervous and show signs of grief. They miss them. Rasto is being sorely missed by Beanie and Cattyhop. Comet, of all cats, is showing grief signs over Gracie's absence. When Dex is upset, she charges around swatting the other cats and she's doing that presently. I think they wonder, too, if I'm going to send them away.

Cats love it here. They all do. But, I can't keep them all.

I had a hard time sleeping last night. Miss Daisy has taken up playing nights. But she's deaf and therefore loud. Her screaming in delight over chasing toy mice gets to me because it's loud. I must change her operating schedule and the sooner the better.

Friday, September 22, 2006

Beanie and Rasto Lounge--Two Rowdy Boys Take a Break


Rasto, in front, lounges with Beanie, the formerly feral boy I trapped two weeks ago behind Carmike and Safeway. Now Beanie's sister is here, too, and he was glad to see her. Rasto is leaving for his home in about two hours. Posted by Picasa

Suggest a Name for Beanie's Sis


This is the kitten I trapped in the all nighter spent in the back parking lot between Safeway and Carmike. She is Beanie's sister, and was spayed yesterday.

I might be done trapping strays in that area now, since I also retrapped the two previously spayed females for a barn home. They are currently together in a rabbit hutch in my shed. I sure hope that barn home does not fall through.

As for Beanie, the boy kitten, and his sister here, (so far unnamed), I don't know what I'll do with them. Beanie loves playing with Cattyhop and Rasto, but today Rasto is going to a home and I hope Cattyhop will also get a home soon. Beanie is taming down, gradually, however, so maybe I can get him tame enough quick enough for a house pet home.

In other news, Gracie is going to a home tonight. I hope she works out for this woman because it is a good home and Gracie needs a good home. It's a single cat home, and Gracie does LOVE playing wildly with the kittens here, but I think she'll adjust. This woman is home a lot.

Someone called from Salem today. She'd seen Abby on petfinder. Her own abbysinian recently passed away, of old age. She will be looking at Abby tomorrow, with her husband. If that works out, I'll be down one kitten and two tame adults. I hope to take the two homeless camp adult females to their barn home on Sunday.

Nominations now open for the Name Beanie's sister contest. Best name wins.  Posted by Picasa