The Pain of a Mother

The lactating white female, doomed now, has turned vicious. I am the person, to her, that took her from her kittens, sealing their fate. The SS woman's hands are tied. She has not been able to reach the manager of the building, to get under there and find the kittens. She can't go back or she too will die.

And what am I to do, watching her pain and knowing kittens are slowly dying because I trapped their mother. It is a terrible position for me to be in. I asked that woman if the female could have kittens and was told "no" that she was not lactating.

I went over again tonight, after a fruitless journey to Sweet Home. There was allegedly a trailer park with over 30 cats needing fixed. When I got there and met another volunteer, who had spoken with the manager about the situation only an hour before, and there were no cats. They'd disappeared over the last months, but the manager had told the volunteer over there they were all there. Why, I wonder. Who knows, but they're not there anymore and probably were killed by someone.

When I was at the building, I could only look through the hole the mother cat enters, and make mother cat calls. The only response I got was from Scrunch, the orange scrunched ear Heatherdale double crypt fixed a week ago Friday who doesn't know he's neutered yet and probably thought he heard a female in heat.

I said "Scrunch, I helped you out. How about helping me out now? You could go under there and carry them out to me. You could, you know." He eyed me suspiciously then took off.

Over in Sweet Home I had the distinct pleasure of meeting the old woman about whom an article was written in the paper last week. The article stated Senior and Disability Services had abandoned her, asking that she pay almost $300 per month towards a caregiver. Disability Services response to the reporter's inquiries were guarded, citing client privilege.

Well, turns out, the old woman wanting our sympathy is a notorious mean cat collector that KATA has had to deal with already on two occasions. When we were trying to figure out where all the cats were, we decided to ask Charlotte, since she's the cat woman in that park. She invited me in. She sat, surrounded in trash, with two cat carriers on either side of her. Inside each carrier, was a Siamese cat. She never lets them out, she told me. It was unbelievably sad and this is her M.O.

She told me she keeps them in the carriers because the female is in heat, until she can get her spayed. I said, thinking stupidly I could cajole her into allowing me to get them fixed, "I am a cat lover. I will be happy to take them in for you."

She started in then. "Them vets spay them without anesthesia and I'd want to be there right with them, because I love them, for the whole 24 hours. I ain't handing my cats over to nobody because they won't treat them right."

I stared at the poor cats, confined in incredible heat to those tiny carriers. The law went after her in Lebanon. Dead cats in carriers in the back, I think was part of what went on, it was just horrible. Then she landed in Sweet Home and KATA took about 15 out of the trailer, at the request of a relative, when she was hospitalized under police supervision.

Then the woman wanted to know who I really was. I told her, that we had been told there were 30 cats needing fixed in the park and I came to try to help them, and, since she was the resident cat lover (I was still being nice), she'd know how many there were and where they hung out. She then demanded that I adjust some piece of equipment on the floor, and began yelling at me that I was doing it wrong and what the hell, didn't I know what "a little bit" meant, in regards to moving it. Oh my gawd, I thought, no one in their right mind could be paid enough to be this woman's caregiver.

Besides the refuse of this being the trailer of a collector, trash and stacked papers everywhere.

She lit into me again in a fit of cussing and threats and I said, "I need to get going." I literally ran down her handicapped ramp to be away. Oh my gosh, that woman is mean!

The reporter didn't tell the whole story in that paper article. Not even close. She should have done so. I sent an e-mail to the online editor, suggesting they actually tell the whole story.

The trailer park manager then began to get calls from her, repeated ones, over and over. I felt for her.

The old woman needs committed, in my opinion, if ever anyone did. Animal abuse is no laughing matter and this woman is abusing animals and anyone alive who gets close enough to give her opportunity to unleash her venom.

I got a contact from someone wanting barn cats. But I think the name is fake and I think its a kid playing games. I actually get a lot of those. Spoiled kids. Bored kids. Or disturbed kids usually.