Strange Day Indeed

My day was not normal but it worked out ok in the end.

I got a call, blasting me awake, at 6:30 a.m., from the Stayton trailer park. The woman had two more females. I was proud of her. Off I went.

I knew I had to do something about my grinding grabbing lurching brakes, too.

I picked up the two girls at the trailer park. Now that is one Poppa success story. The woman needs a trap of her own and I'm going to make sure she gets one somehow.

She's dedicated and proud of already catching ten cats and getting things under control there rapidly.

They're really grateful to Poppa Inc., too.

I loaded the two females and headed to the clinic. From there, I called a brake shop in Tigard I had located online before I left. $88 brake job. How do you beat that?

I made an appointment for 10:30. Before leaving Wilsonville, I slipped by the Chevron with my filthy car. I was embarrassed it was so dirty. I went through the $6 car wash. I'd never been through one before. I always wash my own car. It felt like a bubble bath--luxury living!

I said, "What do I do?" The attendant said, "Put your car in neutral, sit back, relax, be happy and I'll do the work." So that's exactly what I did.

Then I vaccuumed it out and headed off to the brake shop. It was supposed to be like an hour to get the drum brakes done.

Four and a half long hours later I was still sitting in that shop lobby, highly worried by this time.

I walked around awhile. I went to Value Village, a thrift shop that's better than Goodwill. That's because if you take a small bag of donated items, you get 20% off anything you buy there. I bought a pair of L.L. Bean brown jeans for $6!

I was back at the brake shop then, waiting and waiting. They had said two more hours, but it had been over that now. I watched about four guys surrounding one rear axle of my car, for about an hour. I watched them fumble with the brake shoes, then take them off, try again, over and over.

I finally walked out and stood nearby and said "What's going on here, is something wrong?" They said nothing was wrong. None of them spoke English well. There was one pure white guy in the shop, pestering the boss constantly to get off work early or have tomorrow off.

I thought "You're giving whites a bad name there, fella."

I became increasingly worried they would not be able to do the job in time for me to even pick up the cats at the clinic before they closed. And what if they did not get it done by the time they closed?

I called my brother and asked him to call them. I had seen them take off one part and take it to a machine and grind on it. I thought "Ok, they're machining the new parts to fit? That doesn't seem right." By this time, the boss had decided to come do the job, shoving aside his workers.

My brother told me they were bending a part that sometimes gets twisted. Something.

Finally they wanted me to pay the bill and they took some off for the lengthy wait. Yet still, the car was not ready. I took a look at the receipt, proof for warranty and the mileage they listed for my car. The brakes they put on are warranteed for 24,000 miles. And yet, they had listed my mileage 20,000 shy of reality. I pointed that out, and he quickly changed it to reflect the truth.

Was this an innocent mistake or a deliberate misrepresentation? If I hadn't noticed it, those brakes would officially have been warranteed for only 4000 miles! I hope it was an innocent mistake.

I finally get my car. But the window, rolled up when I handed the car over, is now down and won't roll up. I think I can work the magic, by rolling the passenger one up and down but not this time. The clip to work the electric window is broken. They didn't tell me they did that. At last, in Wilsonville, I was able to get it working and the window up.

While at the brake shop, I noticed my back hatch website sign, which I made by buying magnetic vent covers, cutting them into strips and adding stick on letters, was mostly missing. The sign is in several pieces that I stick onto the car in a neat little row to compose the letters of my petfinder site: www.purr.petfinder.com. However, all that was left was one piece that read: "etfinder."

The car wash, I thought! The pieces are in the car wash.

Once back in Wilsonville, I went directly to the car wash and walked through it with two of the guys. We found the pieces! I cleaned them off and stuck them back on the car.

Brakes were done. Window now in the up position. Website sign back on my rear hatch. Now, to pick up the girls and deliver them back to the trailer park. And I did so. Now I'm home. Yay.

Strange day.

It all worked out in the end.

Would I recommend Brake Team? Sure, you can't beat the price and the brake seems just fine. Just watch the mileage listed on your warranty. Make sure it matches.

Day Off

Day off today. The Stayton trailer park didn't catch anymore cats and the DR people didn't try. Big surprise there, hahahaha.

I caught up on some projects and retrieved a loaned trap in Corvallis. I gave up on that one, over there. I don't think they will ever try to trap those cats. The trap has been with them almost a month.

I've been trying to get my car worked on for a long time, with my usual mechanic, but they have been busy, so I guess I need to find a mechanic that isn't. Anybody live in the mid valley and know an honest mechanic out there? I'm so skeptical these days, regarding honesty, finding honest people, that is.

I've got to get the rear drum brakes done, the belts checked, transmission fluid and filter changed, timing chain checked, etc. etc. I can't do drum brakes. I tried, on a different car, without having the little tools that make holding all those parts together possible. So that was interesting.

Long ago, I also used to change my own tranny fluid and filter, too. That was when I had ramps and a jack and now I don't have either. They got lost in the last move. Or stolen or something.

I can't change belts on a front wheel drive. I can't get down in there.

I have to now hire someone to do these things. Then there's the issue with the short in the electric windows. Car starts window rolls down. Or up. Or halfway in between. I have this ritual when one window suddenly won't go up or down, that I go through, to try to get it to work. It's almost like magic. I don't know what to do about getting that fixed. I guess it won't matter too much come summer.

I don't know what happened to my usual mechanic. I've been trying for over a month to get in there. No luck. Now I have to find a new one. That's like changing religions. Like moving. Like having your doctor of 12 years suddenly disappear. Maybe I'll get a letter like I did after my doctor was gone, saying he was gone, about the mechanic too?

It's disruptive. Unsettling. Like they discontinued a favorite ice cream flavor or cancelled my favorite show.

Darn it all.

Wish Upon a Star

I got offered a job in Eugene. As a cat trapper. But I can't take it. I can't afford to.

I don't live in Eugene so all the driving would cost me and my car, which has 160k miles on it. It's three days a week, pays a little over $10 per hour. If I took it, and I want to so badly, I'd lose everything from medical insurance to ability to pay for a place to live. Damn it anyway. I feel like I'm caught in a trap myself.

I really want to say to hell with it, and take the job. Why? Because I'm dying here, rotting away. I have no human contact, no future, nothing to look forward to.

I called up my brother, to see if he had any ideas, on how I could take this job, and he said not to take it, that I need medical insurance, and that I'd likely lose money taking it. I said "Sell this house, please!!! I have to get out of this area." I told him I cannot take the lack of human contact and the rampant animal abuse and abandonment. Not alone like this." He said he didn't know how he could swing that.

I am caught in a trap.

April Cat Stats

Total Cats taken to be fixed in April, 2010: 36

# of Males: 16

# of Females: 20

# Feral: 16

# Tame: 20

# In heat: 2

# Pregnant: 11

# Previously spayed/neutered: 1 (stray female taken in by Tangent woman)

By County: Linn: all 36

By City: Tangent: 1

Albany: 35

# of 36 Rehomed by me: 0

# of cats Rehomed in April: Arranged with Cottage Grove Humane Society, to get three of the Del Rio cats in to Greenhill, transported them down. These three cats were fixed previously, using Poppa funds, taken to be fixed by another woman, but not the cats caretaker who did not participate in a solution.

Most of these cats I took in this last month are from and near Del Rio street, and from two situations off Knox Butte Rd. Also I took in a few cats from Lyons street and 34th street.

Three Cats Fixed Today

Three more cats were fixed from the trailer park today. One pregnant female, Boy Boy, all gray. One lactating female, Suger, long hair gray and white, with kittens somewhere. And a tame owned brown tabby female, in heat.

They contained the feral mom with young kittens somewhere this morning abut 8:00 a.m. and she was back by 1:00 a.m. They then followed her and know which trailer the kittens are under, but have to wait until the people who live there get home, to search for them, and for the other mother's kittens.

She just has three more females and a couple of males to catch now. 8 have been fixed.

Trailer Park Tracking

Tracking cats in trailer parks is an art all its own. This evening I engaged in trailer park cat tracking.

This entails encounters with wild animals.

I encountered one such beast at Trailer 52. What is it about that number and trailer parks with me? Heatherdale trailer park in Albany. Trailer 52. 16 sick tiny kittens in the carport alone. Pregnant cats. Old woman lived there. Adult kids meth heads, but good hearted, I'd say, in many ways.

Trailer 52 at the Stayton trailer park I was told was the source of all the parks unwanted cats. Just like at Heatherdale.

I went calling there night before last and got no answer.

But when I stopped by today, I saw the door open quickly to allow a slim built short hair gray tux female out. I knew that to be the source cat, from many disgruntled park residents who had various names and descriptions for the occupant of trailer 52 and none of them were hospitable descriptions.

I wondered if he knew what his neighbors thought of his cat behavior, which caused then gossip about his general behavior and habits. Or if he cared.

I walked up to his door. The one thing I had heard was, that if he wasn't drunk, he did like cats. A heavy set bald man scarcely clad opened the door. His face already was screwed up angry. He wanted to open that door and bellow.

I didn't give him the chance. I stuck my card out at arm's length right even with his face, which topped out at my shoulder height and started off my pitch: "Hi, I'm out to save the feline world. I'm here to get the park cats fixed, end the suffering, and I hear you have some cats that are not fixed."

My luck wasn't holding. He was drunk. You can't reason with a drunk.

He began his pitch. "Hell, someone should haul all these cats out and kill em right now."

"I'm not interested in hearing that," I stated without emotion. "I'd like to get that female there fixed tomorrow. In fact, I can take her right now and she'll be back fixed tomorrow night, no charge to you."

Only drunks and idiots pass on a free spay. He fit both categories.

The park manager already told residents she has no power, which took away any she might wield. Rules state no unfixed cats. Rules clearly state that. And almost everyone in the trailer park has ignored that rule. This man more so than anyone, I'd been told.

On he went, like he didn't even know he was talking. The kids across the street, who had been following me around the park, offering up facts about who does and who doesn't fix their pets and theories as to why, had stopped their play to watch and listen.

"This is my roommates cat and I can't allow that without her saying so. Besides, if you damn people would get all the males fixed, I wouldn't have to fix my female, would I? WOULD I?" That last "would I" had been emphasized by bellowing and by a fat index finger extended nearly out to touch my nose. However, I did not take a step back.

"Your roommate? Oh, you mean your disabled wheelchair bound daughter when you say 'roommate'. You're using that word kind of loosely. Fat chance, Mister, that I'm going to round up every male within ten miles to fix so you don't have to fix your female. Park rules state she has to be fixed. The manager is glad I'm here getting all the cats fixed. I'm going to tell her I am leaving this park without taking in one more cat if she doesn't enforce that rule and your cat isn't next on the table." With that, I left.

That's the bottom line too. The other tenant has three traps set and tomorrow morning, I will take back the five cats fixed today, pick up any she caught in the night, then visit the manager with the ultimatum because I'm wasting my time there, offering them a permanent solution, if the manager will not enforce the fixed pet rule. I'm not budging this time. She told me two days ago, she would start enforcing that rule, that before, she didn't because she knew people didn't have the money to fix their cats, but if it's free----well, that excuse is down the drain.

It's enforce that rule now, as she said she would, or I'm gone.

Five Cats Fixed Today

Poppa received a request for assistance from a Stayton trailer park. I delivered them traps and they have so far trapped five, who were fixed today, using Poppa funds.
This silver tabby female had been struck by a car or abused, and, the woman who feeds her states, "walks like a raccoon" with hunched up rounded back. The vet said she walks very well, however, and is likely recovered from the injury. She was pregnant at spay today.
This silver tabby male has only half of one rear leg and the vet states it appears to be the result of a birth defect. He was neutered today.
Another male from the trailer park, fixed today.
Two black males were among the five from the trailer park fixed today. The one above and the one below.

Too Quirky. Giggle Material.

Accompanying the post below, on craigslist of course, is a photo of a brown tabby tux short hair full length tail kitty. Just read it and you'll understand why the giggling.


Sweet, shy, spayed tabby cat (Albany)

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Date: 2010-05-04, 12:08AM PDT
Reply to: comm-8fnbp-1723569884@craigslist.org [Errors when replying to ads?]

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Piglet is aprox. 4 years old and currently an outdoor cat but she was raised indoors she would make a nice apartment kitty. She is shy and will need a special someone to show her paitence and love while she adjusts. She is tolerant of dogs but not kids (she will just run from them). She comes with medium sized scratching post, basket with blanket and some food. She is 1/2 American Bobtail , 1/4 Persian and 1/4 Alley Cat. Not a demanding pet. New home MUST agree to keep her indoors for a min. of 1 week during transition. This cat is loved and will be missed but needs to be re-homed due to seperation (I have 4 pets and 3 kids, simply too much for me right now). Can e-mail more photos if requested .


Location: Albany
it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests

Not Ikea

Using My Neighbors Weed Problem Wisely

Click the post title to see what I mean and what I am going to make!

Belly Crawling Morning

I trapped four cats for a woman a few months ago, to be fixed. She called this morning to say one had returned badly injured after disappearing for four days. She wanted help catching her, to take her to the vet and thought she was under the house.

Barely awake, from my late late night, I threw on clothes, tossed my net and a trap in the car, and headed over slurping coffee as I drove.

Once there, she yanked out a metal skirt from one side of the house but had not blocked one other exit. I thought the cat was going to be so badly injured that if I found her under the house, I would basically scruff her and put her in a carrier. That was not the case. I had to wiggle under, shoving my belly fat this way and that, to fit it through the space. I know. Not a pretty visualization.

I went under feet first, then rolled around onto my belly. The ground wasn't dirt or a vapor barrier plastic, like usual. It was rock, big sharp rocks. Pushing myself forward with my feet while propelling myself by my forearms was painful with every move on those sharp rocks. Nonetheless, I quickly scuttled forward.

I may be old and getting stiffer by the minute, but I love scuttling around under houses. Don't ask me why.

She was at the very far end, trying to get through a now blocked hole. She very easily loped right by me in the spacious underground of the underside of the house. I was yelling at the lady to cover that entry hole, yelling my head off. She later claimed she did not hear me.

The woman said the cat went under a shed then. I had seen she was limping terribly and did not look good.

I propelled myself out from under the house, cut up, filthy and bruised. The woman was not sympathetic. I heard growling under the shed where she supposedly now was and asked the woman "What is going on under there? Did you hear that?" I examined the holes beneath that shed and could see it was being accessed by nutria. I wasn't happy about laying on my belly to look under with a flashlight but I did so, and found myself face to face with a frightened raccoon. I quickly shot to my feet.

The woman said she's seen a tail disappear as something exited the shed. I was frustrated that she wasn't really watching and didn't even know if it was her cat or not. So I ran around the back and the back deck and saw her cat limping badly now, going around now to the front of the house from the back. I yelled at the woman that the cat was coming her way, to net her, since she had my net. I came back around, expecting the woman to have her, because the cat was moving so slowly but she had let her pass, then chased her, which of course did not work out and the cat had disappeared.

I was frustrated, dirty and sore. I was even more worried knowing that raccoon, possibly a mother with babies, was under one shed and they are as defensive with babies as any other mother.

But there was nothing more I could do. I so much wished I had an experienced helper along. Makes it easier for sure.

So, she said she'd go buy a fish net and I gave her a quick tutorial on how to and how not to net a cat.

I was miffed when I left because she was talking about hiring some trapper she'd hired before, to catch nutria, to catch that raccoon. I was miffed because she's a woman with a good job, who pays men, to do like work, as I did, but did not pay me, not before, when I trapped her cats and did not value my labor today enough to pay me a dime. I came home dirty, with my jeans torn and my shoulder sore. Women who discriminate and devalue the work of women, that's disrespectful. And unexpected.

It comes up for us cat trappers often. People will often pay high prices for men to come to exterminate cats, trap them and shoot them. But they won't pay a woman who comes to save them. The business of death is lucrative while the business of kindness goes unrewarded. It's usually men in the business of death while it's usually women trying to solve problems with kindness and life. So is it a man woman thing, the reason men are paid to trap and kill, while women are usually not paid, to trap and save? Or is it that killing is more valued than saving life? I don't know the answer.

I was miffed at myself also for not catching the cat, for not insisting all exits be blocked, except one, and making sure she was ready there at that one. I was miffed at myself for assuming the cat would be laid out and non mobile.

But then, the woman's call woke me up, since I had such a late night and I was not fully awake or mentally prepared when I arrived on scene. I am going to guess the cat has a cracked or broken pelvis from being hit by a car, but that's just a guess.

Too Much Coffee

I went to Corvallis today, too late to attend the Farmers' Market. I did get to Pet Day and wandered through in about 20 minutes. I saw a couple of the usual groups, out to save the world: Senior Dog Rescue and PAN (Pet Adoption Network). Kudos to both groups.

I got eyes rolled at me at the Advantage booth, when I started talking about getting cats fixed. A young woman was manning the booth and very much not interested. I moved on.

I left quickly. I was disappointed when I did not run into anyone I knew.

But then I arrived late. The weather was better for it this year than last year, at least. Last year Poppa had a booth. High winds and pouring rain kept turn out low and in the end, the winds were so bad, they picked up canopies, twisted them and hurled some towards the road. I injured my knee, chasing them down with Poppa's president. That knee injury plagued me half of last summer. But we were glad we did chase them down to remove the canopy part, so they were not a hazard.

I had brought cinder blocks to weight down the one provided for our booth.

I got coffee at the Circle K. It must have been potent. I usually only drink one cup of coffee in the morning. That was at 3:00 p.m. and I'm still awake. Shady is raising hell in the spare bedroom. She wants to make the world know how horrible her fate is, confined now to the spare bedroom. And at least half the block would hear her protests, if they were up to listen. She is not an easy cat to confine. Even for her own good. I am about ready to let her out, to be honest because.....well, I want to sleep.

Meanwhile, Brambles, also confined for treatment, is happily cuddled up with Stinod. Shady is now tearing apart the door.

Should I give in? If I do, it only teaches her that such tactics work.

She's had only two doses of anti viral eye treatment and that wasn't easy to get into her eyes either. I can't give up now. Maybe I can.

I am glad the car did not blow up in New York and that someone saw the smoke before it did. I wonder who will turn out responsible for that. I cannot understand people who want to kill other people. They sure must be unhappy. Shady is very unhappy right now. But she's still a nice cat.

The Same Siamese? I hope not.

This ad was on craigslist this evening. Coincidentally, the man whose two Siamese in Albany I took to be fixed Friday called early this evening to say someone had come wanting a kitten and he had given away the blue point Siamese mother with the kitten, who is just three weeks old, saying they could only go together because the kitten still needs her mother. Now, I'm wondering if this is the same Siamese, and someone is trying to make money off her. I hope it isn't, because that would be just such shitty behavior by some asshole if they are seling that mother cat.


Purebred Blue Point Siamese Female Cat (Albany)

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Date: 2010-05-01, 4:49PM PDT
Reply to: comm-xtes2-1720076412@craigslist.org [Errors when replying to ads?]

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Moving must rehome our female siamese cat. She is 1 year old and is spayed. Has been an indoor cat ONLY! Comes with her cat kennel, and her toys. $40 to insure a good home please and help recover spaying her. 541-609-8089


Location: Albany
it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests

I called the guy this morning, to ask if this was the other Siamese he still has. He said it looks like the one he gave away with the tiny kitten. The numbers of the woman who called wanting a kitten and the posting on craigslist are not exactly the same but very close. He called up the woman who had taken the mom and kitten, but she insists she still has the cat and kitten. I wonder if it's not the same cat and if it is the same cat, her selling the mom by lying like that is very awful and does not bode well for the fate of the kitten. I always worry about kittens being fed to snakes.

He just handed the cats out, he said, didn't get a name or address or anything. He felt bad, not knowing for sure, but was glad they're gone and not feeling bad enough to try to make sure the mother and kitten are ok. It's so darn sad.

Big Plans. No Energy.

I had big plans for today. I was going to start off by visiting the Corvallis Farmer's Market then head off to Pet Day at OSU. Just for some relief from the daily grind here.

But, I fell asleep on the couch, heat off, woke up middle of the night nearly frozen, since the weather here is behaving more like it is mid February, with cold temps, rain and wind.

I switched to my bed, after feeding the two cats from the DR, here recuperating from spays yesterday. I laced their food with wormer, and also left the carriers soaking in the carport in a bleach solution.

This morning, my own cats are disgruntled. I got some expensive anti viral meds. These drops are not just for Stinod, with her URI, probably herpes, because her best friend is Shady, from the BS colony, who came here with severe herpes. Stinod loves Shady, the mischief maker jokester. But Shady is a pain in the butt to medicate. So, I decided to confine her, and Brambles, the second cat I have here with chronic herpes, in the spare bedroom, to treat them with the drops for two weeks, see if I can get them into remission. But Shady is loud and screams like the world is ending if I try to treat her eyes, and will try to swat at me and bite me if I put drops in her eyes. Otherwise, she's a sweetheart. Herpes dries out the cornea, making the eyes painful and prone to secondary infection. That's why she hates having her eyes messed with, but there is no choice.

Dex is the third cat here with chronic herpes. Well, I shouldn't say that. Miss Daisy also has it, but her outbreaks are rare and not severe. It is estimated 66% of cats carry herpes. If only people would vaccinate their cats when young. Vaccinations help protect cats from herpes. Once a cat has it, they have it for life. But, most cats who carry herpes never show any symptoms, unless their immune systems get suppressed, like when under stress.

Brambles, Shady and Dex have frequent slurpy outbreaks. That is why all three will be confined for treatment now that I have the new anti virals. Whether Stinod has herpes or some calici or corona virus (kitty cold), not sure, but she is getting the drops and she doesn't like it. She is becoming frisky and playful but has six more days on Baytril. And she doesn't do well right now confined in the bathroom, clamoring for attention constantly.

Things have been slightly stressful here, but not too bad, I don't think. My cats here for the most are a happy troop.

I have noticed one thing since harboring cats. There is always one fall guy, picked on by the others. The "fall guy" changes. For instance right now, here, it's poor Calamity. Before that, it was Jade and Calamity joined in picking on Jade. Now she is the target. Good for Jade, who is not one of the cats who has turned on Calamity.

I wonder why the cats need one cat to pick on, to be the villain. If I leave for a couple days, then I become the villain and they all band together like one big picked on minority, against me, "the evil establishment", they the victims of evil establishment. I've come to regard this as fact of life, the way things are.

It's good for the cats when I leave them to themselves for a couple of days. They don't compete for my attention and lean on each other for support. They get along.

I think about us as political humans. If we had no political parties or big government to blame for what ails us, no matter what it is, maybe we'd get along and work together. Obama is now Calamity! Before that it was Bush as Jade. But who is really to blame for our human ills? One person? Or all of us?

The oil spill in the Gulf is not the fault of British Petroleum, it's all of us, who use oil and oil products. We create that demand. The Gulf waters, people and it's ecosystem will suffer the consequences. But it's all of us who caused that. The blame will begin, and probably has already, but when you drive your car or use anything containing petroleum products, and the list of such products is very very long, then resist the urge to point fingers away from yourself in blame. It's our lifestyle and if we don't want to change our lifestyle, these spills are inevitable results.


In other news, I just heard from the woman across the street that the man who lives a few houses down is getting married and selling the house where he lives now. I guess he and his wife to be are moving somewhere rural, out of the city. That's according to the neighbor.

She also says she doesn't notice as many cats in my window, like she's still counting. How nice, eh? This morning, more teens shooting pellet guns against the back fence. I went out and asked them to not be shooting against the fence, because they come through, when they miss, that if they are going to shoot in their backyards, which is legal in Albany, big surprise, they need to shoot a target that is against their house, so if they miss, it's their property, pets or family members who get shot, not me or mine.

They retorted, "Well, we didn't know you were in your backyard." I said, "It's not ok to ever shoot in my direction, or into my yard. Whether I am back here or not is not even a point of consideration."

I am angry.