Friday, July 31, 2009

Twisted



The Siamese manx saga is now a twisted contorted mess. The man came down, looked over the manx in my bathroom and said it wasn't Mr. Kitty. He said his back end wasn't jacked up enough and his head wasn't big enough and he wasn't skinny enough either.

I thought "oh my gawd, now what?" I told him he'd need to take the cat back to where I'd found him then. The cat was going in and out of a hole in an apartment complex foundation. He could be owned, however, because owned cats will do that, and then again, he could be a stray. Or, it could be Todd's neighborhood cat from Gladstone. I don't know.

So Todd leaves with the cat and I think that's the end of it. An hour later, the doorbell rings. I think it's Todd returning my carrier. Instead it is Todd saying he just couldn't dump him out like that, not knowing if he is owned or isn't owned. He was back to tell me he was taking the cat with him, and he'd file a found report with Heartland and would I post fliers in that area? I said I would. He's a nice guy. He said he'd come back down with him, if and when his owner is found.

It's sure wierd, the whole thing, but then life is weird all around. I called Heartland myself to file the found report and posted him online, too, to be sure it's done.

Also, KATA asked if I could help an Albany cat posted about on craigslist. It was a tame little stray female someone had been feeding who suddenly came back with an eye hanging out of the socket. They thought she'd been attacked or shot. So I took her up and the vet is removing her eye but I have to find money somehow to pay for it. Those people who were feeding her said they'd keep her but said they didn't have even a dime to donate. But at least nobody has to try to find the sweet young tabby a home.

The whole thing with the manx is sad. I was so happy, was sure I was about to reunite a long lost cat with its owner. But it all crashed to the ground, with my spirits, and now it's just more work, trying to find out if he is owned, then if so, coordinating to bring him back, which is really on Todd, since he's the one who took him instead of taking him back to where I found him. Who knows if he is owned or not.

The moral to this story is: microchip your cats. Photograph them. Keep them in your own house or yard. What happened to Mr. Kitty would not have happened had he been contained. And this Siamese manx, whether he is Mr. Kitty or not, he had no ID or outward sign that anyone owned him and was roaming properties like a stray. Maybe he is. Maybe he isn't.

Twisted



The Siamese manx saga is now a twisted contorted mess. The man came down, looked over the manx in my bathroom and said it wasn't Mr. Kitty. He said his back end wasn't jacked up enough and his head wasn't big enough and he wasn't skinny enough either.

I thought "oh my gawd, now what?" I told him he'd need to take the cat back to where I'd found him then. The cat was going in and out of a hole in an apartment complex foundation. He could be owned, however, because owned cats will do that, and then again, he could be a stray. Or, it could be Todd's neighborhood cat from Gladstone. I don't know.

So Todd leaves with the cat and I think that's the end of it. An hour later, the doorbell rings. I think it's Todd returning my carrier. Instead it is Todd saying he just couldn't dump him out like that, not knowing if he is owned or isn't owned. He was back to tell me he was taking the cat with him, and he'd file a found report with Heartland and would I post fliers in that area? I said I would. He's a nice guy. He said he'd come back down with him, if and when his owner is found.

It's sure wierd, the whole thing, but then life is weird all around. I called Heartland myself to file the found report and posted him online, too, to be sure it's done.

Also, KATA asked if I could help an Albany cat posted about on craigslist. It was a tame little stray female someone had been feeding who suddenly came back with an eye hanging out of the socket. They thought she'd been attacked or shot. So I took her up and the vet is removing her eye but I have to find money somehow to pay for it. Those people who were feeding her said they'd keep her but said they didn't have even a dime to donate. But at least nobody has to try to find the sweet young tabby a home.

The whole thing with the manx is sad. I was so happy, was sure I was about to reunite a long lost cat with its owner. But it all crashed to the ground, with my spirits, and now it's just more work, trying to find out if he is owned, then if so, coordinating to bring him back, which is really on Todd, since he's the one who took him instead of taking him back to where I found him. Who knows if he is owned or not.

The moral to this story is: microchip your cats. Photograph them. Keep them in your own house or yard. What happened to Mr. Kitty would not have happened had he been contained. And this Siamese manx, whether he is Mr. Kitty or not, he had no ID or outward sign that anyone owned him and was roaming properties like a stray. Maybe he is. Maybe he isn't.

Thursday, July 30, 2009

A Happy Ending Miracle


8 months or so ago, I responded to a craiglist ad about a cat lost in Corvallis. The cat was really from Oregon City or somewhere up there. A neighbor had trapped the cat, a neutered Siamese manx male, and dumped it at the trailer park on Walnut and 10th in Corvallis, where his mother had lived.

The cats' man was desperate to find the kitty. There was a credible sighting by the roommate of a vet tech I know on 10th street near Borders, which is on 9th, but she only saw him once. Finally, Todd got a short article run in the Gazette Times about the cat, who has distinctive foot markings. But nothing came of it.

Today, 8 months later, I went to Corvallis late, intent on finding on sale cat food. I stopped in at the Grocery Outlet, then, because it was late, decided to come on home. I travelled down 10th and turned onto Garfield to get to 9th.

There, by Vina Moses' gate, was a Siamese manx. I did a double take, then turned around and went back. I called him to me, and he finally came and I felt him up. He was neutered! He had the distinctive foot markings. But I didn't bring him home. I took photos instead, came home, called Todd, after finding his number on an age old e-mail, then e-mailed him photos.

It's him. Todd even showed the photos to all his neighbors, who love this cat too. I went back and he was still there and got him into a carrier. Mr. Kitty is found, after 8 months in a strange city and he's going home tomorrow!
Mr. Kitty's feet markings are so distinctive I knew if I sent photos of his feet they would know for sure if it was him or not. They are unusual!

Update: Mr. Kitty's fur is full of burrs and he has a few wounds but he just wants to be hugged and held tight, which I've been doing. He purrs his head off. His owner will be here tomorrow at 9:00 a.m. to pick him up. I guess the whole neighborhood is excited over Mr. Kitty being found down here, after 8 months lost. I can't tell you how happy this makes me.

Weird, in a way, that I would turn down that street, and see him at the right time. I only took Garfield to get back to 9th because it was near rush hour and I wanted to take a street with a stoplight, so I could make a left turn onto 9th, to go home highway 20.

A Happy Ending Miracle


8 months or so ago, I responded to a craiglist ad about a cat lost in Corvallis. The cat was really from Oregon City or somewhere up there. A neighbor had trapped the cat, a neutered Siamese manx male, and dumped it at the trailer park on Walnut and 10th in Corvallis, where his mother had lived.

The cats' man was desperate to find the kitty. There was a credible sighting by the roommate of a vet tech I know on 10th street near Borders, which is on 9th, but she only saw him once. Finally, Todd got a short article run in the Gazette Times about the cat, who has distinctive foot markings. But nothing came of it.

Today, 8 months later, I went to Corvallis late, intent on finding on sale cat food. I stopped in at the Grocery Outlet, then, because it was late, decided to come on home. I travelled down 10th and turned onto Garfield to get to 9th.

There, by Vina Moses' gate, was a Siamese manx. I did a double take, then turned around and went back. I called him to me, and he finally came and I felt him up. He was neutered! He had the distinctive foot markings. But I didn't bring him home. I took photos instead, came home, called Todd, after finding his number on an age old e-mail, then e-mailed him photos.

It's him. Todd even showed the photos to all his neighbors, who love this cat too. I went back and he was still there and got him into a carrier. Mr. Kitty is found, after 8 months in a strange city and he's going home tomorrow!
Mr. Kitty's feet markings are so distinctive I knew if I sent photos of his feet they would know for sure if it was him or not. They are unusual!

Update: Mr. Kitty's fur is full of burrs and he has a few wounds but he just wants to be hugged and held tight, which I've been doing. He purrs his head off. His owner will be here tomorrow at 9:00 a.m. to pick him up. I guess the whole neighborhood is excited over Mr. Kitty being found down here, after 8 months lost. I can't tell you how happy this makes me.

Weird, in a way, that I would turn down that street, and see him at the right time. I only took Garfield to get back to 9th because it was near rush hour and I wanted to take a street with a stoplight, so I could make a left turn onto 9th, to go home highway 20.

Big Change in Settings. Email Me if You Want to Read My Blog.

My blog will be viewable only to those I invite to view it from henceforth. So, if you want to read my blog, e-mail me. I will have to know you. By Saturday, there will be no more public blog.

That is because of you, dear stalker lady Vicki, whom I know reads this.

Stalker lady is calling people I know, or have briefly met, ranting against me, scaring people because it's a stranger to them, and apparently following me when I get cats fixed, which is really an escalation of this person's stalking. I do not want to endanger others. I am taking personal protective measures. This includes hiding the blog from this mentally disturbed person.

Ain't life grand? I meet a person one time years ago and she stalks me forever. Nobody normal behaves in this fashion. So I have to take precautions.

I am consulting with others she has targeted and we hope to come up with a solution. If I end up dead, I say now, to those reading this, it is very possible it will be my stalker or someone my stalker has hired, who has killed me. So investigate there, if I end up murdered.

Why do I think she might kill me? Why wouldn't I think that? I don't even know this person and she has been writing me bizarre disturbing letters for years, left anonymous phone messages, contacted people whom I barely know to rant against me....all sorts of stuff....yeah, that is why I think she might kill me. Because nobody normal behaves in this way, obsessed with a stranger.

UPDATE: I have decided to continue the public blog. Screw the fucking stalker! What I say on this blog, needs said. The benefit for cats of this blog far outweighs the stupid stalkers' agenda and danger to me. I don't know what is wrong with people. Small little people who dedicate their lives to harming others suck! They are pathetic and waste the gift of life.

Stalker lady, when you're about to die, if you get a few moments, what are you going to think about, "Golly gee, I wish I had stalked a few more people in my life." What an unbelievable waste of a good life. Stalker lady's stalking activities are entirely supported by taxpayers. Stalker lady, do something useful!

The good thing is, people she is calling, are providing me with the number she calls from. I am handing out cards to everyone I contact, to let them know I have a stalker, so they are forewarned and can also keep records of any calls.

Big Change in Settings. Email Me if You Want to Read My Blog.

My blog will be viewable only to those I invite to view it from henceforth. So, if you want to read my blog, e-mail me. I will have to know you. By Saturday, there will be no more public blog.

That is because of you, dear stalker lady Vicki, whom I know reads this.

Stalker lady is calling people I know, or have briefly met, ranting against me, scaring people because it's a stranger to them, and apparently following me when I get cats fixed, which is really an escalation of this person's stalking. I do not want to endanger others. I am taking personal protective measures. This includes hiding the blog from this mentally disturbed person.

Ain't life grand? I meet a person one time years ago and she stalks me forever. Nobody normal behaves in this fashion. So I have to take precautions.

I am consulting with others she has targeted and we hope to come up with a solution. If I end up dead, I say now, to those reading this, it is very possible it will be my stalker or someone my stalker has hired, who has killed me. So investigate there, if I end up murdered.

Why do I think she might kill me? Why wouldn't I think that? I don't even know this person and she has been writing me bizarre disturbing letters for years, left anonymous phone messages, contacted people whom I barely know to rant against me....all sorts of stuff....yeah, that is why I think she might kill me. Because nobody normal behaves in this way, obsessed with a stranger.

UPDATE: I have decided to continue the public blog. Screw the fucking stalker! What I say on this blog, needs said. The benefit for cats of this blog far outweighs the stupid stalkers' agenda and danger to me. I don't know what is wrong with people. Small little people who dedicate their lives to harming others suck! They are pathetic and waste the gift of life.

Stalker lady, when you're about to die, if you get a few moments, what are you going to think about, "Golly gee, I wish I had stalked a few more people in my life." What an unbelievable waste of a good life. Stalker lady's stalking activities are entirely supported by taxpayers. Stalker lady, do something useful!

The good thing is, people she is calling, are providing me with the number she calls from. I am handing out cards to everyone I contact, to let them know I have a stalker, so they are forewarned and can also keep records of any calls.

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Four Cats Being Fixed Today

I took four cats up to be fixed today: three males and one female. One male is from Lebanon, a stray being fed by a woman who also feeds two females. She believes one of the females, abandoned by the former tenant, might be fixed. The other, a muted calico, she doesn't believe is fixed, but couldn't catch her last night. So just the male is being fixed.

On my way up to Lebanon, to pick up that male, I stopped in at the Chevron to get some gas. I ran into catman Roger, the grass seed farmer I've known forever, although he lost his farm and now works for the county. We joked around some, then he said he had another male show up at his place. He's a nice guy and so is his partner. I told him I'd stop by on the way back from Lebanon and pick up the latest arrival there. I did.

It's always a pleasure to stop by their place. They offer me cold drinks, food, and they're just super nice people. So that boy is up being fixed. Where he came from, they don't know. Could be another Safehaven escapee or dump off. They're across a field from SafeHaven and have ended up with cats who have escaped people bringing them in from there before. And then of course people dump cats at SafeHaven. It's a dangerous thing to do for the cats, as many get hit then on the highway.

The other two cats are Albany cats. I got a female and her four kittens fixed for a very nice young Albany couple. They took in that female, who showed up and had kittens under their porch. They are trying to find all five of those cats homes now. Now they are caring for a relative's female and wanted her fixed. So she's getting fixed today. The young woman is going to take a vet assistant class and then try to get into prevet. She'd make such a great vet. I hope she can get in.

The fourth cat is a male from the complex across from that trailer park that houses 33 cat trailer. The woman left a message awhile back stating she was very ill, would be entering the hospital and needed to rehome her cat. I did not return that call because I just couldn't take in another cat. Then she left another message, that she wanted to get her cat fixed. I returned that call, and said "I thought you were dying or something and had to rehome your cat." Well, that wasn't the case and I'm not sure what the case was. Doesn't matter, he's getting fixed and going home afterwards.

When picking up that cat, I ran into a man, maybe 30, outside smoking, who was confrontational in a way. He claimed to work for the old man in the trailer park, who had the cock headed calico I got fixed, that he feeds as an outside stray and those four kittens, three of whom disappeared during the day, while their mom was being fixed. He was accusatory, that I took those three kittens, and said the old man wanted the other kitten, the only one apparently who lived through that day, back after she was fixed.

I said "He didn't want her back. He wanted me to find all four of them homes. When I couldn't find the other three, he wanted the fourth one at lesat placed if possible, because he thought his neighbor killed the other three. I told him when I returned the mom, that I found someone to foster her."

I did tell him. And he knows the woman who fostered her and found her a home, because that woman said she used to drink with him. And that woman also knows the man I was talking to today, who is the same man who was on the porch of the old man's trailer when I was trying to find those kittens that day they disappeared, and who gave up the search quickly, saying he wasn't going to put any more time into it. I then continued the search for another hour, while the old man, this younger man, and the old man's caregiver sat around on his trailer porch smoking and chatting.

Then the man said I should check somewhere nearby for the kittens, because they were possibly there, after I mentioned seeing a kitten who looked like the male on a porch of one of the nearby felony flat cottages. I said, "They're not my kittens. Why don't you do that for the old man, or have him check there?" Boy.

Anyhow, drama drama! At least they're all concerned sort of in a passive way. Better than being not concerned outright, you know?

The Pink House woman and I have long ago come to terms. I stop by every now and then to see the cats and feed them. They look good, healthy, good weight on them, and now their good health and fixed status is a source of pride to her. To see them looking good, happy and healthy, also makes me happy.



Pink House cats this morning, when I stopped in to feed them and say hello. They still know my car and come running even when my car is several hundred feet away.


Below are photos of the four cats up being fixed today:
Nice sweet good looking black tux from Salem Road.
This is the Lebanon stray male up being fixed.
This is the Albany Siamese female up being spayed.
And this is Catman Roger's latest arrival, being fixed today.

In other news, I called a woman for whom I got three cats fixed. They are low income and I don't think anybody in the household works. Since then, they also got an orange kitten from someone else. I got two males fixed for those people they got the orange kitten from. They'd already got the female fixed. One of the males was the sibling of the orange kitten these other folks took.

Anyhow, I call them today, to arrange to get that orange cat, now four or five months old, fixed. They tell me they got another orange kitten and are going to breed them. I say "No, don't do that, please. There are too many cats out there." I also told them "Poppa's policy is, that if you breed those cats deliberately, you will get no more help ever." I told them, "It's also a matter of money. It is not faceless money. You don't see the faces behind those who work to contribute to pay for the fixes of cats for people who won't get them fixed or can't afford to get them fixed. Nonetheless there are the faces out there, of taxpayers, in the case of grants, and donars, mostly little people without a lot of money. This isn't magic money that pays for these fixes. These are people trying to make a difference and sacrificing to do so. Think of them, before you do this. Picture the faces in your mind of people going to work everyday, paying bills, and setting out a little of what they, taking away from themselves and what they can do, to pay for your cats to be fixed."

I try to remind most people of this. To have some respect for donars and for taxpayers.

I remember seeing a Judge Joe Brown episode. A woman on public assistance had adopted a huge St. Bernard and then couldn't care for it. She asked the woman she bought the dog from to keep the dog for her, for awhile, until she got another place. She was on HUD. The woman would only agree to this if she paid her a boarding fee and showed her a lease allowing a dog and allow her to visit to see that she had a fenced backyard. The public assistance woman was sueing the woman she bought the dog from, because she wanted the dog back but had met none of the requirements, including paying for the boarding and training.

Judge Joe Brown gave the woman hell for buying a dog she couldn't care for using taxpayer money, since she was on public assistance and ruled the dog was now owned again by the woman she bought him from. To also save taxpayers, the judge denied the boarding fees to the original owner, incurred when the woman gave the dog back temporarily, under the stipulation from the former owner she pay boarding in the meantime. The Judge stated this only because if the woman was forced to pay the boarding fees she promised, those really paying would be taxpayers. Again he chided the woman for her behavior.

So what in the world is this Albany woman thinking? She couldn't afford to get the cats she has fixed, and now, gets two more cats and is considering breeding them? What in the world is she thinking? I know what Judge Joe Brown would say!

I'm also highly suspicious of where that second orange kitten came from, considering one of the three kittens who disappeared that day at the trailer park was orange.

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Health Care Revision

I don't know why they are rushing into some half ass mess plan with the health care thing. It's already being torn to pieces. Do they not know the reality out there now, that if you're on medicare, you are hard put to find a doctor anywhere who will take a medicare patient.

I think they plan on making things worse in that regard, because sounds like they'll pay for uninsured people by cutting medicare even further, which means even fewer doctors will take medicare patients, meaning more people might, on the books, have medical insurance, at least medicare, but be unable to access any medical care.

I suppose to politicians, however, it's all about the way things look, not reality.

If I go to the doctor, I have a very few very rushed moments. This is one reason I think the politicians and the people who discuss the issue on the news do not live in the real world. They talk about visiting with your doctor about this and that. So to me, those sorts of statements, that conjure up images of leisurely doctor visits with all the time in the world to chat, are very very funny.

I have not had a physical in probably 10 years. I tried to get one when my old doctor was still here, before he quit, but he kept having to cancel, for one reason or another, and then, in the end, he was gone. They don't have time to do physicals anymore, I was told, takes too long. They have to see too many patients. I don't know why he quit. He was well liked. I just got the letter, never a clue before that, that he was leaving for greener pastures. Took me about seven months to find another doctor who would take medicare.

My old doctor was with me before and after I left the mental health system and through some very hard times I went through, including when I was beaten on that psyche ward and my neck ruptured.

It took a very long time to get treatment for that injury. I was told it was a mental health issue. Despite increasing bodily dysfunction, I kept at trying to get resolution. I had no idea what was wrong. One side of my face starting all sorts of horrible twitches and ticks. My arms started to fail. I had electric impulses running up my spine. I had trouble walking. I was in a nightmare of agonizing pain and received no pain meds, because my doctor held that it was a mental health issue. You see, a neurologist backed him up on that.

I will never forget the heartless treatment I received in her office. I cannot believe a doctor could say such things. When an MRI was accidentally ordered, and she had the results, she told me at first I had a disc ruptured only to the left, when I could clearly see the MRI images and asked her what that was in my spinal cord then. I was no dumbshit OHP client and she had counted on that I guess. How dare I read my own MRI.

She then admitted the disc was actually ruptured into my spinal cord and compressing it by half. I asked her what I should do. She told me one day I'd be laying on the floor unable to walk or move, peeing and pooping my pants and hopefully someone would call 911. Then she walked out the door.

I felt she disliked me from the start. Her office walls were lined in drug company propaganda. The only question she wanted an answer to was why, if for decades I'd been diagnosed with all these mental illnesses, why I wasn't taking all the psyche drugs anymore. She did not seem to care about the pain I was in, or my severe spinal cord injury. She was a drug pusher I guess and angry someone was no longer taking the drugs.

I was left speechless, sitting there, and I didn't know what to do after that. They were going to let me die. And not just die, they were going to let it happen while I writhed in the severe pain I'd lived with since the injury.

That's when I clearly knew how a stray cat feels. I was a stray, unwanted, life discounted as unworthy. Her behavior that day towards me sealed my fate in a way. I began to fight for my own life. And I began to defend and help the strays. I was one of them. I know exactly what they go through.

Anyhow, my spinal cord injury and the medical crap I went through afterwards left me with very little trust of the medical profession. My own doctor apologized to me. That meant something. I miss him. He supported me leaving the mental health system fully after that and never tried to push a drug on me. He understood why I distrusted doctors so much. It wasn't just as a result of that injury, but of almost three decades of sometimes forced psychiatric drugging and local shrink negligence and abuse in the psyche system, all unneeded. I've been the recipient of far more than my share of medical malpractice.

Anyhow, the health care system is really a mess. The drug pushing has lately been a subject of close media attention after Michael Jackson's death. I would hope this scrutiny would be turned onto the psychiatric system also. The cost of over drugging patients is unbelievable. Most of those drugs only make people have worse symptoms or kill their minds. There are better ways.

Health Care Revision

I don't know why they are rushing into some half ass mess plan with the health care thing. It's already being torn to pieces. Do they not know the reality out there now, that if you're on medicare, you are hard put to find a doctor anywhere who will take a medicare patient.

I think they plan on making things worse in that regard, because sounds like they'll pay for uninsured people by cutting medicare even further, which means even fewer doctors will take medicare patients, meaning more people might, on the books, have medical insurance, at least medicare, but be unable to access any medical care.

I suppose to politicians, however, it's all about the way things look, not reality.

If I go to the doctor, I have a very few very rushed moments. This is one reason I think the politicians and the people who discuss the issue on the news do not live in the real world. They talk about visiting with your doctor about this and that. So to me, those sorts of statements, that conjure up images of leisurely doctor visits with all the time in the world to chat, are very very funny.

I have not had a physical in probably 10 years. I tried to get one when my old doctor was still here, before he quit, but he kept having to cancel, for one reason or another, and then, in the end, he was gone. They don't have time to do physicals anymore, I was told, takes too long. They have to see too many patients. I don't know why he quit. He was well liked. I just got the letter, never a clue before that, that he was leaving for greener pastures. Took me about seven months to find another doctor who would take medicare.

My old doctor was with me before and after I left the mental health system and through some very hard times I went through, including when I was beaten on that psyche ward and my neck ruptured.

It took a very long time to get treatment for that injury. I was told it was a mental health issue. Despite increasing bodily dysfunction, I kept at trying to get resolution. I had no idea what was wrong. One side of my face starting all sorts of horrible twitches and ticks. My arms started to fail. I had electric impulses running up my spine. I had trouble walking. I was in a nightmare of agonizing pain and received no pain meds, because my doctor held that it was a mental health issue. You see, a neurologist backed him up on that.

I will never forget the heartless treatment I received in her office. I cannot believe a doctor could say such things. When an MRI was accidentally ordered, and she had the results, she told me at first I had a disc ruptured only to the left, when I could clearly see the MRI images and asked her what that was in my spinal cord then. I was no dumbshit OHP client and she had counted on that I guess. How dare I read my own MRI.

She then admitted the disc was actually ruptured into my spinal cord and compressing it by half. I asked her what I should do. She told me one day I'd be laying on the floor unable to walk or move, peeing and pooping my pants and hopefully someone would call 911. Then she walked out the door.

I felt she disliked me from the start. Her office walls were lined in drug company propaganda. The only question she wanted an answer to was why, if for decades I'd been diagnosed with all these mental illnesses, why I wasn't taking all the psyche drugs anymore. She did not seem to care about the pain I was in, or my severe spinal cord injury. She was a drug pusher I guess and angry someone was no longer taking the drugs.

I was left speechless, sitting there, and I didn't know what to do after that. They were going to let me die. And not just die, they were going to let it happen while I writhed in the severe pain I'd lived with since the injury.

That's when I clearly knew how a stray cat feels. I was a stray, unwanted, life discounted as unworthy. Her behavior that day towards me sealed my fate in a way. I began to fight for my own life. And I began to defend and help the strays. I was one of them. I know exactly what they go through.

Anyhow, my spinal cord injury and the medical crap I went through afterwards left me with very little trust of the medical profession. My own doctor apologized to me. That meant something. I miss him. He supported me leaving the mental health system fully after that and never tried to push a drug on me. He understood why I distrusted doctors so much. It wasn't just as a result of that injury, but of almost three decades of sometimes forced psychiatric drugging and local shrink negligence and abuse in the psyche system, all unneeded. I've been the recipient of far more than my share of medical malpractice.

Anyhow, the health care system is really a mess. The drug pushing has lately been a subject of close media attention after Michael Jackson's death. I would hope this scrutiny would be turned onto the psychiatric system also. The cost of over drugging patients is unbelievable. Most of those drugs only make people have worse symptoms or kill their minds. There are better ways.

Kitten and Cat Photos

Buddha, who is quite beautiful.
Wake up, Micro!



Micro relaxes.
Micro and Louie, from the homeless camps, wrestle. Louie is spoken for, but his new owners won't be picking him, and Isis the Siamese mix girl from Lyons street, up until tomorrow.
Micro and Louie go at it!
Lucy takes a moment to examine her paw, which is beautiful and she knows this. Satisfied, she returns to attacking her sister.Micro and Lucy do sister battle.
Calamity is smart, sleek and wonderful.
Calamity, from a cul de sac on the outskirts of Albany. Unwanted, like her sister and mom, who was abandoned.

Isis, Calamity's sister, who is spoken for.

Below are photos of the four cats I took in yesterday. Two came from S. Corvallis. The woman said they were strays she took in, each with kittens. 11 kittens in all. She is low income and moving on Sunday. But she is trying to find homes for the kittens before Sunday and is taking the two adult cats with her. They're now fixed!
S. Corvallis brown tabby tux stray female, spayed yesterday.
S. Corvallis calico, spayed yesterday.

The other two cats were from that Lebanon situation. The sister of the owner was, by the time she contacted me, feeding the three cats. Her sister got them off craigslist, which should be a great big warning to people giving away cats without doing any checking on craigslist. The woman might have been well intentioned, but she doesn't even take care of her kids, and was not feeding these cats. She then told her sister if they weren't out of her place, she'd shoot them! Her sister contacted me, hoping for help finding them a safe place and getting them fixed. Turns out the male was already fixed and the calico had a massive tumor and had to be euthanized. As for the kitten, a neighbor is taking her in.
This is the male, who was already neutered.
The doomed calico, gotten by the Lebanon woman off craigslist from someone who didn't want her. But she didn't really want her either, never got her fixed, never fed her. The cat had many litters and yesterday died. She had a massive ovarian tumor.

I don't know if Blackjack is going to make it at his new home. Wonderful couple! They have one cat who hates kittens and a small dog. She says Blackjack cries all night. She thinks it is a health issue, but I keep telling her he is used to having tons of friendly cats around. He's lonely. She is going to take him in for a checkup. But adopting one kitten means you're going to have a lonely kitten, unless you have other kitten friendly cats already. Most single adult females do not take well to a kitten addition to the household.

He did not cry here. But, maybe he has developed a health issue. He played wildly all day with his brothers, then slept all night. That's what he did here. And I wish Miss Daisy would play all day and not sleep all day and race around very very loudly at night.

It is hard to convince people that a kitten needs another kitten for companionship or that one kitten will be terribly lonely and grow up dysfunctional. But it's true.

Kitten and Cat Photos

Buddha, who is quite beautiful.
Wake up, Micro!



Micro relaxes.
Micro and Louie, from the homeless camps, wrestle. Louie is spoken for, but his new owners won't be picking him, and Isis the Siamese mix girl from Lyons street, up until tomorrow.
Micro and Louie go at it!
Lucy takes a moment to examine her paw, which is beautiful and she knows this. Satisfied, she returns to attacking her sister.Micro and Lucy do sister battle.
Calamity is smart, sleek and wonderful.
Calamity, from a cul de sac on the outskirts of Albany. Unwanted, like her sister and mom, who was abandoned.

Isis, Calamity's sister, who is spoken for.

Below are photos of the four cats I took in yesterday. Two came from S. Corvallis. The woman said they were strays she took in, each with kittens. 11 kittens in all. She is low income and moving on Sunday. But she is trying to find homes for the kittens before Sunday and is taking the two adult cats with her. They're now fixed!
S. Corvallis brown tabby tux stray female, spayed yesterday.
S. Corvallis calico, spayed yesterday.

The other two cats were from that Lebanon situation. The sister of the owner was, by the time she contacted me, feeding the three cats. Her sister got them off craigslist, which should be a great big warning to people giving away cats without doing any checking on craigslist. The woman might have been well intentioned, but she doesn't even take care of her kids, and was not feeding these cats. She then told her sister if they weren't out of her place, she'd shoot them! Her sister contacted me, hoping for help finding them a safe place and getting them fixed. Turns out the male was already fixed and the calico had a massive tumor and had to be euthanized. As for the kitten, a neighbor is taking her in.
This is the male, who was already neutered.
The doomed calico, gotten by the Lebanon woman off craigslist from someone who didn't want her. But she didn't really want her either, never got her fixed, never fed her. The cat had many litters and yesterday died. She had a massive ovarian tumor.

I don't know if Blackjack is going to make it at his new home. Wonderful couple! They have one cat who hates kittens and a small dog. She says Blackjack cries all night. She thinks it is a health issue, but I keep telling her he is used to having tons of friendly cats around. He's lonely. She is going to take him in for a checkup. But adopting one kitten means you're going to have a lonely kitten, unless you have other kitten friendly cats already. Most single adult females do not take well to a kitten addition to the household.

He did not cry here. But, maybe he has developed a health issue. He played wildly all day with his brothers, then slept all night. That's what he did here. And I wish Miss Daisy would play all day and not sleep all day and race around very very loudly at night.

It is hard to convince people that a kitten needs another kitten for companionship or that one kitten will be terribly lonely and grow up dysfunctional. But it's true.

Dog in the Road

 I went to get groceries yesterday morning fairly early. I was expecting visitors, brief ones, pop in and out, so I wanted to get done with ...