Wednesday, January 31, 2007

The Last Great Act of Defiance

I saw a cartoon once that has never left my mind. The cartoon shows a tiny mouse standing alone with a massive eagle, talons extended, swooping in. The mouse doesn't stand a chance in hell. And yet the mouse stands his ground with both arms raised with middle fingers extended. The cartoon was entitled "The Last Great Act of Defiance."

Tonight, after endless days of hard labor, causing me great pain, after enduring the financial and emotional losses moving entails, after suffering the outrage of eviction by a slumlord, I am gone from Slumlordville forever.

At 9:31 p.m., I stood in front of my car headlights, at the head of the driveway, out near West Hills Road, and raised both arms to the neighborhood and to the slumlord. The middle fingers on both swollen, red, scraped, cut, chapped hands, were fully extended.

I yelled, at the top of my voice, "GOODBYE SLUMLORDVILLE!"

How can one woman cause another so much hardship, pain and suffering? And how do neighbors and other citizens stand by apathetically and let it happen? I hope to God all of them end up in utmost poverty with nothing and then have even that nothing taken from them. A little iin your face karma would help them gain some empathy and understanding, considerably. And how do Corvallis intellectuals and social citizens dare to wonder or ponder the causes of poverty?

Goodbye Slumlordville. And Goodbye Corvallis.

Me Zombie

I'm a zombie--walking dead. Too much. Moving. Cat trapping for two clinics a week apart. All these cat calls, that continue. Moving, with all the pain and suffering and frustration of packing up all my belongings, then unpacking them, of moving 16 cats, some of them elderly, to a new place, of moving all utilities, paying fees and deposits, while attempting to tear down the cat yard and cat runs at the old place, all in three weeks time.

Today's the last day I can be in the old place. And I'm not done cleaning. I'm almost done, but what I have left, looks like some huge mountain needs climbing. That's because I'm exhausted. I'm just exhausted to the bone.

Last night, I returned the feral male to the Monroe folks. He was fixed yesterday. I met them at POPPA's in Corvallis.

I was supposed to carry the male and female, owned by a homeless woman, back into the camps last night, too. But I couldn't. Too worn out. Instead, I went back to the old place, to watch for Splash. I put the landlady's big male in my bathroom. And then I started to paint the floor. I got that done. Exhausted, I brought the two homeless camp cats into my old place, set them up with a litterbox in the cold bedroom, and food, and laid down myself, using cage covers, some of them dirty, as padding and covers.

When I'd awake, with either bouts of pain, from my sore muscles and pinched nerves, or because I was shaking from cold, I would check the trap to see if by chance Splash was in it. Nobody touched the bait in that trap all night. This morning, I wanted to sob.

I didn't. I'm too tired to sob. My right hand is numb, from some pinched nerve.

I took the homeless camp cats back. The weight of carrying them in a carrier back to the camps along the tracks, with my bone tired body, hurt. Hurt bad.

So I came home, to my new place, and I need to sleep. I need to clean litterboxes. I need to feed and water the cats here, do laundry. I haven't had time, or the money, to grocery shop for food in ten days.

This move has nearly killed me. I discovered who my friend aren't.

Tuesday, January 30, 2007

Cats, An Injured Duck and Exhaustion

I might be pushing myself a bit too hard. I need to be gone from my old place tomorrow. And yet. AND YET. I keep on taking cat jobs. And now, possibly, an injured duck job.

Christiana, a wonderful woman with a huge heart, saw an article in the Demo Herald about a duck with a blow dart through its cheek. She has urged me to get involved and try to help that duck. How do you say no to such a nice person and to an injured duck?

Well I can't.

But, fortunately, the reporter who did the story, gave me the parks and rec man's number, who is in charge of the "the duck". He said they have a rehabilitation specialist out there today to catch the duck. Yay. But, he said, if this man is unsuccessful, he'll be calling me. I do think I could catch that duck. I stopped by and took a look this morning, after delivering cats to Jefferson.

There are hundreds of ducks at that park. But I saw the injured duck. And devised a sneaky cat catching type plan, in my mind immediately, to capture the now spooked duck. The duck is spooked by failed catch attempts. And if the rehab man doesn't catch the duck in his attempts, the duck will be even more spooked.

I ask, "Who better, if all else fails, to call in, to catch a spooked duck, than a cat trapper?" Cats are curious and smart and also paranoid. Cats are psychic and know when you're trying to catch them. So, when a duck is injured, scared and paranoid, might be, if rehab and bird people can't catch it, maybe a cat trapper can.

But, I am sincerely hoping the rehab man catches that duct today. Because I"m exhausted. And I have to be out of my old place by tomorrow.

I still have cleaning and painting to do. And I'm done in.

Yesterday, I returned 10 cats to Lebanon, one cat to the Albany trailer park and one cat, the big male, to the Highway 34 barn.

I picked up a cat the caretakers failed to catch in Monroe for the FCCO clinic. They caught the four others, then caught the male that night, after the clinic. He's in Jefferson getting fixed today.

I went into the Corvallis homeless camps to pick up the two tame cats needing fixed. She had them ready. But the carrier both adults were in, had broken clamshell clasps. So, I walked out with those two cats, hugging the carrier, so it wouldn't fall apart. It was a painful quarter mile along the railroad tracks. I stopped twice because my back was killing me. But I made it.

I treated them for fleas, once home with them, gave them distemper shots, and roundwormed them. They ate huge plates of food, too. And this morning, their poop, in the litterbox, was laden in dead roundworms. They are being fixed today. I must return them to the woman tonight, at 7:00 p.m. I don't want to abuse her trust, so I will be there, marching the railroad tracks tonight, at the designated hour.

The other task I attempted, partially unsuccessfully, when I should have been working at the old place, was to recatch two cats at the FAirgrounds, that some people want to take with them, to the new barn where they board their horses.

I thought they would not have been fed. I thought they were extremely feral. In reality, there are plates of food out there everywhere. All sorts of people feed them. So, these were not hungry cats and well fed cats are very hard to trap.

Nor are they very feral. The male marched right up to me, although he wouldn't let me pet him or pick him up. Since they were too well fed to be interested in traps, I decided netting them would be the way to go. But I'd loaned out my net. I called N, who had my net, and he met one of their two caretakers, at Bimart with it. I then easily netted the female. But the male, after seeing this, became spooked.

I tried several things, including the drop trap. But there were tons of people out there, and I was exhausted. There were cars pulling through, people cleaning stalls, and then the caregiver herself was nervous over the endeavor, maybe making it a whole lot harder than it might have been, had I just gone alone. I work best alone and in the dark.

And the cats, having been well fed, by many people, all day, weren't the slightest bit interested in food.

Then, I got out of my car, to tell the caregiver I needed to go, since I was exhausted. We went and picked up the traps together and afterwards, I couldn't find my keys. I mean I really couldn't. I then tore the car apart. The car was full of junk and stuff I was moving from my old place and tools and cleaning supplies to clean the old place, tarps and bait and traps, from trapping for the clinic. It was a nightmare. Then, suddenly, the caregiver of the cats said, "could they be in your back pocket?" I had checked all my pockets. But the jeans I was wearing, were fairly new and too big, so the back pockets sagged low on my butt. I checked my pockets again, and felt nothing. Then I felt farther down on my butt. I felt a bumpt. There were the keys.

I felt like a complete idiot, like a jerk, embarrassed, and like a failure, for not catching the second cat.

I told her to get going, since she had to be up at 4:30 a.m., to get ready for work. I stayed on half hour longer, thinking I could catch that male, but I didn't and finally, wisely, gave it up.

I stopped briefly by the old place, since I've been feeding in a tied open trap there, hoping to spend a final night there, with the trap set, trying to catch Splash, the cat who exited my place through holes in the contained yard that raccoons tore in the netting. I haven't seen her for a year now, but I can't leave without trying again.

Trying there has been complicated by raccoons, so I built a platform to feed on, a stray feeder, and by the fact the landlady won't keep her three older cats inside. They get into set traps over and over and over again. And her dogs would come over and spring traps, too. It was so frustrating, after Splash got out, trying to retrap in such conditions. I asked her to contain her cats while I trapped but she wouldn't. So tonight, I will contain them, in my old place.

I don't think Splash is still among the living. But I can't leave without trying. I've been feeding in that tied open trap for weeks. So if she's out there, I will catch her.

Four cats are being fixed today--the feral male from Monroe, the two homeless camp cats, one male and one female, and a tame male from Albany. And an injured duck is hopefully finding its way to rehab, as I write this, without my involvement.

I can do this. I can survive two more days, get my old place cleaned, maybe catch Splash, finish all the jobs I'm promised out on, and then sleep, for days, or even weeks. I can't wait.

Sunday, January 28, 2007

Freshly Spayed Lebanon Girl

  Posted by Picasa

Must Have Rolled in Bad Cat Weed!

  Posted by Picasa

Out Cold and Beautiful. Green Eyed Kitty in Post op

  Posted by Picasa

Cage Cleaning Mother and Volunteer, With Teen Daughter in Background

  Posted by Picasa

Mom Works; Teen Daughter Supervises

  Posted by Picasa

Dazed and Confused--This Big Male Will No Longer Be Tearing Up Other Cats and Pee Marking

  Posted by Picasa

Big Angry, Now Neutered, Highway 34 Barn Cat Male

  Posted by Picasa

Gassed Cat


Photo is of a cat, being prepped for surgery, using gas anesthesia. Posted by Picasa

Big Male, Neutered Today, Out Cold in Post Op

  Posted by Picasa

77 Feral Cats and Chris hit and killed on 34

77 feral and stray cats were fixed today at the Feral Cat Coalition of Oregon clinic in Philomath. And, apparently while I was out trapping along HIghway 34 last night, Chris Houck, a guy I've known for many years, was dying on same highway. He was struck by a vehicle and his body seen by other passing cars in the left lane of eastbound Highway 34.

I took 13 of the 77 cats fixed today at the mobile surgery clinic. I took a dominant calico female I trapped at the Albany trailer park colony, with my remote selective. She was cat number nine I've trapped there. I took a massive gray tabby very feral male, from the Highway 34 barn colony. He's number four trapped and now fixed from that colony of six cats. And I took all eleven cats from a Lebanon colony SafeHaven asked me to help. Seven of the eleven Lebanon cats were females.

So, 12 of the 13 are here with me overnighting. The 13th, a female from Lebanon, needed to be kept inside and contained for awhile, since her bladdar was not completely expressed during surgery prep and she urinated as her spay was beginning, potentially contaminating her open abdominal cavity, although her abdomin was immediately cleansed with sterile water. She must be held until she is eating again normally, urinating and pooping. So N, the coordinator, took her to his house.

I will return all 12 cats tomorrow to their various colonies.

Tomorrow I am to meet someone to attempt to retrap a couple of cats, trapped and fixed two years ago, because they are moving their horses from one barn to another, and want to take the two barn cats with them to the new barn.

Tomorrow I am to enter the homeless camps again, to attempt again to pick up the two tame owned cats there, for spay/neuter.

I saw in the news that Chris Houck was hit by a car and killed a mile east of Corvallis on HIghway 34. I've known Chris for a long long time. He's homeless and has several addiction issues. I'd run into him ten days ago, at Dari-mart, and that's when he told me the cats in the homeless camps across Circle from HP had all died of disease. He also had told me a few days before that, that the cats still out beyond Home Depot, had all been abandoned, since the camps were empty, due to the cold weather.

He was right on the latter statement. He told me he and his girlfriend were feeding two cats at their camp, out about where he was killed, somewhere in the brush on the south side of HIghway 34 "near the blue building", he had told me.

His long time girlfriend will be on her own now. So will those two cats. They also have a dog. A very nice dog.

Chris has at least four sons, most usually in some sort of trouble, according to Chris.

One of his ex wives, M, always had cats in trouble, because she wouldn't fix them. She briefly worked at Cub Foods. C, the bus driver I knew, used to get calls from her. Emergency help needed calls. Like I say, M never fixed their cats. One two or three year old male cat of theirs, started screaming one night. M of course called C the bus driver, because she wanted C to pay for taking the cat to a vet. I happened to be out at C's when M's call came in.

C the bus driver, argued at first with M, telling her to pay for the vet trip herself. Finally my friend gave up and I went with her to pick up the sick cat at M's and take him to the emergency vet clinic. Tiger was a big brown tabby male. M and one of M and Chris's boys (the boys were young then), rode along to the emergency vet with C, the bus driver and myself. C paid to get him in.

The cat was dying because he was FIV positive. His liver was failing. He was screaming in pain. If they'd neutered the cat, he'd never have had to end that way, at such a young age, in such horrible pain.

I comforted the cat, as he was euthanized. M, the cat's "owner" left, went outside, then made jokes later about the cat must have been hit by a car, when we'd told her why he was dying, because he had FIV, and if she'd neutered him, he wouldn't have been screaming in there and now dead.

So I'd run into Chris now and then along the river in the years since the dying cat incident. He was an ok guy, I suppose. Alcoholic, a dedicated alcoholic, and petty criminal.

He was always nice to me. He called me "the cat woman" and would talk to other homeless people about letting me get their cats fixed. He'd want a hug when he'd see me and so I'd get a great big bear hug.

Reading about him dead out there in the middle of Highway 34---guess it doesn't surprise me any. I think about his dog, his girlfriend and the two cats.

I suppose I didn't know him very well. Chris was native American. In my mind, he was a lost man, a man who would have done well, I think, in his own culture, in the old days.

He talked about the land or the seasons, always, in reference to almost anything else. Sometimes I think cultures are buried deep in the cells of one's being. You can pretend, if you're a native American for example, to fit into white mechanical nature fighting society, but you never do. Not really.

It's like pounding on a square peg, trying to fit it into a round hole. Society does this. And so do individuals, when they try to fit themselves in where they cannot belong. Or maybe even shouldn't try to belong.

Chris was a man of the Earth. He didn't fit into white bread living. He didn't try too hard to fit either, and so he got knocked around by society and knocked himself around, too.

And I think these conflicts of soul can drive a person to addictions and even abnormal or violent behaviors.

Feral Cat Coalition of Oregon Clinic TODAY in Philomath

The FCCO van will roll into Philomath about a half hour from now. Volunteers will unload the van. More volunteers will go into the van then, draw up vaccinnes, and set up for surgeries, about a hundred of them. Inside the PHilomath Youth Activity Center, we'll set up for post op and recovery and for the registration of the cats, as they arrive. Cats, to qualify for the clinic, must be stray or feral, and pre-registered.

Today's effort will fix about 90 area cats and everyone there, except one FCCO tech, will be a volunteer, even the vets. The Philomath Youth Activity Center is hosting the clinic.

I'm working staging and sexing of cats in the morning shift, as well as cage cleaning. In the afternoon, N, the coordinator, has me down in recovery.

I'm taking 12 cats. 11 of the 12 are from a Lebanon colony. And one is from the Albany trailer park colony. Mr. H, the colony caretaker, didnt' mention to me that yesterday his family, from around the country, would arrive to celebrate his 88th birthday! So I had time only to catch one cat, the primary colony female, in the morning, before his celebration. But he thought that was a good present, to catch a major producer in the colony.

I must get going! Off to fix cats, and lots of them, with the FCCO in PHilomath!

Saturday, January 27, 2007

7th Call to Qwest a Charm

I called Qwest again this a.m., after calling Callwave to try to work out the internet answering machine problems. Callwave said, since I subscribe through Earthlink, I'd have to call Earthlink. I said "But I have----many times---all to no avail." I tried to sound exasperated yet pathetic. The foreign customer service rep was unimpressed.

So I resorted to Qwest again. Again, the repair tech said usually Earthlink would call Qwest with the change request. I poured out my heart to this Arizona tech about the number of times I've called Qwest and Earthlink in attempts to resolve this. He was sympathetic. I was impressed.

Did he get it fixed? Hell yes he did! Yahoo!

Friday, January 26, 2007

Two and a Half More Hours Spent Uselessly Attempting to Straighten out Qwest and Earthlink

This morning, I decided to take on Earthlink and Qwest over Callwave again. That's my non working internet answering machine. I subscribe to it through Earthlink. Qwest's roll is to forward calls when my line is busy to an 800 number operated by Callwave. Sounds imple. Sounds even simpler when you consider I have had this option for a long time, and Qwest simply needed to move the service to my new number. Likewise with Earthlink.

What has transpired is endless lengthy phone calls to both companies. None of my extreme efforts to resolve this have produced a working internet answering machine again. Yet, both companies continue to charge me for nonexistent service.

I was on the phone almost an hour with an Earthlink support tech who barely understood or spoke English. He assured me this was a software issue and that I needed to uninstall Callwave, then re-install it. Then, he promised in broken English, he'd call me back. I uninstalled Callwave, then re-installed it. Mr. broken English from Earthlink never called back.

So I called Qwest, to see what they could do. Guess what? Since the last phone call, which was the fourth in the long line of attempts, instead of forwarding calls to Callwave, they've been forwarding them to a local number. I will call that number to see who or what Qwest has been forwarding my calls to, when my line is busy. It was an outrageous discovery.

AFter almost two hours on the phone with a Qwest employee, he finally tried to call Callwave, but came back after keeping me on hold ten minutes, to tell me he gave up, because Callwave's answering machine said his wait would be five minutes to reach someone for tech support. I nearly broke up in laughter. "You couldn't wait five minutes on hold?" It was hysterical!

He finally assured me it was all taken care of, and by late afternoon, everything would work. Well, it doesn't work.

I'd killed another half day in the attempt. I have now devoted a full two days of my life in attempts to resolve a simple issue with two inept companies. I will be filing a complaint to the public utilities board against Qwest. I will also request a refund consistent with the amount of time I have devoted to correcting their error.

And I will search for an internet company whose tech support speaks English as native language.

Thursday, January 25, 2007


My shoulder is killing me. It feels like it's flopping loose, not rightly attached. This happened today, working at the old place again, up on a laddar, removing the last remnants of the cat yard. I couldnt' finish. It was all I could do to get back down off the laddar.

I had taken two cats up to be fixed today. One is a little male from outside Philomath. I keep getting cats fixed for this very nice woman. The cats roam in from a neighbor, an HP employee, who is kind of a collector type. So, once I marched up there and talked them into letting me take like five right on the spot, all females, in to be fixed. Then I got a few more fixed later on. But after that, after the daughter moved out, who was the only one who seemed interested in getting the cats fixed, things stalled. So more cats, run off from their hordes, show up at and affect this neighbor.

I also finally just went to the Katrina caste offs' house. They adopted a Slaughterhouse kitten from me last summer. Their story was a sob story, about Katrina and all. But then they got a house given to them in Corvallis and all sorts of everything else, too. So I felt sorry for them and let them take Bittybright, a Slaughterhouse kitten, unfixed, with the provision when she was old enough, they'd turn her over to me for spay.

Well, they're not exactly upright and honest folk. They had told me their other cat was already fixed. She wasn't. The first time I tried to get Bittybright fixed, they had not gotten her into a carrier and then couldn't find her, so I took in their unfixed cat, the one they told me was fixed. Then they didn't return calls about other appointments to get Bittybright fixed. I finally made another appointment and again, they made no effort to have her in a carrier ready and she didn't get fixed again.

I left messages they never returned. So I showed at their house last night. The two twenty something boys were both higher than a kite. One was nasty high. The mother didn't seem with it herself. But I got the cat from them and today she got spayed. I didn't return her to them tonight.

I wish I didn't have to return her at all. So I call them up and tell them I've hurt myself and just cannot come over with her tonight. And they don't say something like "Oh, that's too bad you hurt yourself." Nope, it's all about them, and she goes on and on about how the other cat misses this one so much, it's so hard on them, hearing her meow and watching her search for her little friend. These are "give me" people, without any heart or soul for anyone else. That's my impression. I wonder sometimes if they really were even close to Katrina or just used Katrina to get a house given them. That's a mean thing to think, isn't it?

So Margaritaville Lovebug went to SafeHaven today. they had an opening. They had taken in Buffy also and she got a home. That's two less adult cats here and that's good, but I miss both of them. They also took in Senecia from the College Park complex. She was abandoned by the tenants who abandoned Malachi.

I'm supposed to take 15 cats to Sunday's Philomath FCCO clinic. I was dreading the trapping, due to my exhaustion and pain from moving.

But SafeHaven turned up a couple with 11 cats they're feeding in Lebanon and the couple believes they can get most inside, then I'll contain them. Sounds just too easy to be true. I'll take my traps and net, just in case.

The highway 34 barn lady has three more, besides the three females I trapped and that were fixed last Sunday. So she'll be trying there.

And I'll be setting traps at the trailer park in Albany again, at the colony where I've already trapped 8 for fixing. They are feeding in a tied open trap. I intend to attach my remote to the trap and go for the two adult females left unfixed there.

I should easily get my 15 cats.

And my brother is stopping by Saturday to haul anything left needing hauling from the old place back to here. I called him last night and told him I'd not found anyone reliable to help me and that my spine and shoulder and knee were giving out. I told him lots of people said they'd help, but when it came down to it, I couldn't find anyone to come do heavy labor and hauling, outside of A taking the cinder blocks to her farm and that was a huge help. J is the one who's put muscle where mouth is for three days. He has to bike over to help. He doesn't even own a car. So he is really putting out for another human being. I am very grateful to have had his help.

That's the way it is these days, my brother said, when I objected to him making such a side trip to come over here to do what wouldn't take long with a couple of young men and a borrowed truck.

Lots of flapping mouths, but very few people will put out to help another. Moving seems to be one of the most hated of "helping" tasks. I guess I can understand why.

It's hard work. But J has helped me. J is unpretentious and eager to give me a hand. He's says I've earned a hand in moving, by helping lots of other people. He was not one of the people I've ever helped with cats. Well, I sure appreciate the help he's been lending me.

Wednesday, January 24, 2007

Moving is Hell

Moving is hell on Earth. Here are just a few frustrations. I just found out the Post Office is returning most of my mail to senders, claiming it is undeliverable as addressed, to me at the new address. However, they did deliver, five days ago, a Qwest junk mailer, addressed to me at my new address. And today, I finally get one piece of mail.

It is beyond frustrating. This has likely put me in bad with many bill collectors, such as utilities and the City of Albany, who had said a water bill should arrive this week, which it hasn't. I assumed it too was returned to sender by the lovely Post Office.

Now I have to re-contact them all.

I got a new phone, at Kmart. And it doesn't work. It came with two base units. But, suddenly, without warning, the call will be gone. It too must go back to Kmart.

And Earthlink comes with Callwave, the deal I cut on internet with them anyhow. I tried to just transfer the service, of call forward on busy to Callwave, with Qwest to the new number. They said "no problem". But then it wouldn't work. I called them back, and the man I talked to said somebody had done it wrong, was call forwarding my calls on busy to a nonexistent voice mailbox and that this would be fixed. It wasn't. So I call back again, and this time, it was somebody else at Qwest, and they were unprofessional and very rude, so much so that I couldn't believe it could be Qwest and thought I must have dialed a wrong number and they were just playing a cruel prank. I finally had to hang up.

So then I try to resolve the internet answering machine with Earthlink. Three livechats with support techs in various countries was useless. So, I'm paying for Callwave with Earthlink and for call forward on busy with Qwest and getting no service. What to do? How do you resolve issues that seemingly can't be resolved? With Qwest, how to get a tech or customer service rep that knows anything, after going through their miles of answering prompts and pushing various numbers to the commands of a computer voice?

And with Earthlink's overseas support, seems improbable I will ever get ahold of anyone who really even understands English.

I also attempted to change my contact info with my one credit card company. But the customer support was in New Dehli India, where they apparently cannot hear the English letter "r" and so they could not understand my new address. It was comical if it had not been so frustrating. So I have no idea where my bill now will end up. The only alternative I could come up with was to cancel that credit card and apply for a local one, one that has most likely been returned to sender as undeliverable by the Post Office.

I am still trying to get out of the old place. Days upon days of hard joint tearing labor have left me bitter, with swollen painful joints and bruises all over my body.

I moved out about 70 cinder blocks that I had used to line the fence outside, to keep the cats from getting out. I've taken down two fence sections I had built so the shed could be removed. I've jacked out fence stud 4x4's and the concrete that enshrouds their underground ends. I've removed cat fencing, without a ladder, arms overhead, neck tilted back----the death stance for my shattered spine. I've laid in ice bags at night, whimpering to myself and trying to comfort myself that it will soon be over.

I"ve hauled loads of wood I don't want, in my car, which is not meant for hauling, to the wood recycling bins. I've hauled stuff over here from there, too. A pickup would have done it all in one load, but I've not found a pickup offer.

It's been a nightmare. That landlord in my mind is the creator of all this pain for me. I could have died as a result of that furnace with the blocked heat exchange, as a result of fire or carbon monoxide. Instead of apologizing for not maintaining it, she evicts me and I suffer more as a result. She should be banned from being a landlord for blatant disregard of human life---mine.

Inside of House I am Vacating


I painted the house some nice colors a couple years ago. I did retouch up the paint last week. No reason not to. I was bored, and very stressed over the impending move. Painting relaxes me. I also repainted the kitchen. Posted by Picasa

House Rot Photos


This is the bottom part of the house on the west side. The house sits on blocks. The lower shingle siding pieces are quite rotted and falling off in many spots. Posted by Picasa

Old House Algae Growth and Rot


This photo is of another corner of the old house, covered in algae and in the lower right, rot. Posted by Picasa

Yard Without Shed

  Posted by Picasa

Shed on the Flatbed

  Posted by Picasa

Goodbye Shed of Dreams


My shed of dreams left today. I could not believe how easy it was to load onto a flatbed. And off it went. My frig left today also. That frig came from a basement in Jefferson. We brought it to my place in the dead of winter, during an ice storm, in the back of a small pickup. A and her prof husband M, helped me haul that over from Jefferson. Now, it's gone too.

The last three days have been full of dawn to dark hard work. I've dismantled the cat yard and it has not been easy. A friend, J, has been helping me, like with pulling all the cinder blocks, maybe 70, that lined the inside of the cat yard, so the cats could not escape, out to the front. A woman hauled them off to her farm for me, in her pickup.

It's been quite the three days of intense labor. Posted by Picasa

Monday, January 22, 2007

Highway 34 Torbi Under Anesthesia

  Posted by Picasa

Highway 34 Muted Torti, Spayed Yesterday


This is one of three torti's and torbi's I trapped off Highway 34. They are being fed as barn cats but needed caught and fixed. There are three more cats at that barn who need caught and fixed. Three done, three to go. Posted by Picasa

Sunday, January 21, 2007

Trailer Park Medium Hair Black with White Male


The third male from the Waverly Trailer park colony fixed today. Posted by Picasa

Trailer Park Brown Tabby Tux Male


This young male was also neutered today. Posted by Picasa

Trailer Colony Male


Young long hair brown tabby on white male, from the trailer park colony. Neutered today. Posted by Picasa

Corvallis Homeless Camp Young Gray Male


This little gray boy, likely Hobi's brother, was neutered today. I trapped yesterday, when I went back into the camps and set two traps. The other trap caught his sister, a tame little brown tabby tux now in a home. Hobi, the third kitten, also a male and gray, is here with me awaiting a home. Posted by Picasa

Rear Leg Bite Wound


This photo shows the bite wound on the rear leg of one of the torbi's I trapped over on Highway 34. Posted by Picasa

18.5 Pound Monster Male, Neutered Today


The prize winning male, the heaviest cat caught and fixed at today's FCCO clinic, displayed proudly, while anesthesized after surgery, by big cat trapper SR. Posted by Picasa

Beyond Dead and 117 Feral Cats Fixed Today

If you see me, don't bother reacting. I'm beyond dead, beyond a zombie. The emotional and physical stress of moving has torn up my body and buried my soul somewhere. I can't find where either my body or soul are buried. If I could, maybe I could dig myself up or pay some illegal to do the shovel work involved in digging up my decomposing body and attaching it to my zombified soul, wherever it might be found--blowing this way and that in the winter storms maybe, or maybe growing fungus on a rotting leaf stuck in a storm drain grate.

I've sort of moved to Albany.

I've still got work to do cleaning out the old place, but it's stalled with my broken up body and fuddled brain.

Exhaustion and stress will do this to you.

I did manage to trap 8 cats for today's Feral Cat Coalition of Oregon clinic up in Salem. Actually, I had nine in hand. But the little brown tabby tux kitten, Hobi's sister, from behind the new Home Depot in Corvallis, went with a SafeHaven worker, home. That's because I pulled the little sweetheart fuzzball out of the trap and she just relaxed, like she was so relieved, and began to purr. She was skin and bones.

I trapped another young gray short hair male out there yesterday, too, and he got fixed today, up in Salem, at the clinic, along with 116 other cats. He also got a home with a volunteer. Not bad.

SR brought in the biggest male, a monster from Lebanon who weighed in at 18.5 pounds. My biggest male was one being fed by one of the Mormon sisters. He weighed 15 pounds and had a chewed up front leg and paw, from fighting. One of three torbi's and muted torti's I took, from a barn home off Highway 34, had a chewed up infected rear leg.

The other three cats I took, all males, were from the Albany trailer park colony. I'd already trapped five cats there. Two of those five are still here, a herpes eye little black and white feral teen, and old tame Ebineezer Geezer, the two tooth old gray male I hope to place in a home. So I caught three more males there last night. One is black and white. One is gray tabby on white long hair. The last is a brown tabby tux short hair.

So of the 8 cats who went to the clinic that I took, only three were females, the Highway 34 torbi's and torti's. Unless you count the little girl from Corvallis, from way back behind Home Depot. In that colony now, I've trapped 24 cats and relocated 24 cats. How do you like that?

So I heard the new director of the Circle of Hope drop in center in Corvallis, took a female kitten from the camps and has it living at Circle of Hope and refuses to get it fixed because she wants it to have a litter. I hope this isn't true. That'd be just so sucky and selfish.

I've spent so much labor, money and time trying to keep up with the cats homeless folk get as pets, take into the camps unfixed, then abandon when the weather turns bad and they leave the camps. It's highly irresponsible to engage in such behavior and to even encourage it at a place like Circle of Hope.

The cats suffer so, and it costs other people money and time to clean up. That little girl kitten is a prime example. She was so starved and skinny.

I don't know if this story about the unfixed five month old cat at Circle of Hope is true or not. Several folks have told me the new director has this young cat from the camps down there and refuses to get it fixed. But that doesn't mean it's true.

Well so anyhow, I'm a mess. I feel soggy and heavy and sodden. I feel like dead weight, like a dead person. I don't even hurt anymore. When I walk, I plod. My eyes want to close for a long time. My body doesn't want to get up anymore. And my mind, I don't even know where to find it and do they make chargers you can snap your mind into, then plug into an outlet to recharge? If so, I'd like to purchase one of those.

My spirit? I think it might be still somewhere nearby. My spirit is hard to keep down, even when my body and mind are missing in action.

Maybe I'll ditch my body and mind, and as feather light spirit, fly away.

Wednesday, January 17, 2007

Free! Free! Free at Last!

I am in heaven! I now live in a gorgeous house where everything works. The water works. I had my first hot bath in years. Oh my god, I am in heaven!

Goodbye Slumlordville!

The move has been hard. Painful. Every joint is swollen or now nonfunctional. Like my right shoulder. Like my right knee. Like my back. Like my arms and hands going numb. Like even my face going numb at times. Neck issues. Pinched nerve issues. Metal spinal plate issues. And still, the poison oak, now on my legs.

I can't think of anything that doesn't hurt from the move. Even my hands, like the middles of my palms.

Worth every bit of tremendous pain this move has caused me, to be free at last from Slumlady! No more grovelling to my slumlady! Yahooooooo!

Lots of heavy labor, I tell you, and sleepless nights right prior to the big day.

I'm still moving stuff and taking down cat runs. But I'm not sleeping there anymore. And I just smile when I'm over there. I giggle. I laugh out loud. Then I can't stop myself from shouting "Free, free! Free at last!"

Tonight, I thought I would collapse from pain over there, working at cleaning and moving stuff and etc. But then I started giggling.

I started saying to myself "Free, Free, Free at Last." Then I got a second wind and continued working, even though my shoulder was numb and I had to use my left hand and arm after that because my right arm wouldn't raise due to the numbness.

I got a big bag of ice at the Darimart and plopped it atop my right shoulder so the ice bag hung down on either side. Pretty soon, it started leaking ice water, that ran down the inside of my shirt and I didn't care. Not one bit. Mainly because most of my nerve endings are now dead and can't feel cold anymore.

Tonight, I'm pretty much packed in ice.

I got fingers popping around in and out of joint and my knee makes really strange noises and oh well.

I am free, free from the slavehood of my personal ex-slumlord. Yahoo!

Friday, January 12, 2007

Temperment Testing "Blizz", an Alleged Feral

Photo is of me "temperment testing" an alleged feral.

As you can see, she's hardly feral. She's not the least bit feral, in fact. This is the long hair black female I trapped south of Home Depot and then carried in the trap a quarter mile back to my car as the snow fell. She's very very thin with some hairmats, but not feral in the least.

I named her Blizz, because I trapped her in a whirl of snow falling out along the train tracks south of the new Home Depot. Posted by Picasa

Hobi, from the Hobo Camps

Photo is of Hobi, the little cute as a button gray tux kitten I trapped south of Home Depot as the snowstorm hit. Hobi is a bit shy but I would not class him a feral. He is very skinny. What to do now? The long hair adult black female I trapped there is completely tame. These are NOT ferals.  Posted by Picasa