Friday, April 15, 2011

The Bathroom Three

Sassy, the gray tabby girl kitten from the Albany business, has been in my bathroom since I trapped her. She was fixed yesterday. The other two, now named Stilleto and Misty, have been in a hutch in my garage. My garage is crowded. It's one car and houses my things. I don't have lots of things, for the garden or yard or recreation, but what I have has to share space with my car in the garage, along with two tables I recuperate cats on, in traps, after surgery, and a table that holds the hutch, for holding cats a little longer, like females after surgery should they need it.

With such limited space, and resigned to them not going back, to die on that business property, I moved the other two, one at a time, to the bathroom. First was the silver torbi teenager, whose mother is the now missing calico. She is slightly older than Sassy. Misty is Sassy's mother.

Sassy was quickly happy to see Stilleto, but disappointed I believe, that it was not her sister, the torbi tux, still out there, maybe alive, maybe not alive. She was ecstatic to see Misty. I had suspected Misty was her mother, then had seen them together briefly, right before I trapped Misty.

I named Misty after another Misty, a long hair brown tux, from homeless Camp Boondoggle. She and Stormy, a black psychotic female, were adopted by a woman who lives near Philomath who also had two big dogs. She would not let the cats in the house at night and this, she said, bothered Misty horribly. She had previously adopted two sisters from Heartland. One disappeared, the other was miserable. So I took in Gracie, the cat adopted from Heartland whose sister was killed by predators, apparently. I made the woman promise to lock the cats in the garage at night, to protect them. She thought her two big dogs would ward off predators, which is an urban myth. Predators not only kill dogs but if need be, work around them.

I adopted out Gracie, finally, to a Corvallis woman. Stormy and Misty came back briefly six or 8 months later, while the woman was on a lengthy vacation. The woman had plenty of money, but I never got a dime from her. Later, I heard from her again, when she wanted to adopt another cat.

Misty was dead. She had first disappeared for three days and she and her ex husband found her up a tree, terrified. Obviously she was escaping coyotes and afraid to come down. They finally got her down. Did she keep her in nights then? No, and Misty vanished, killed by coyotes, of course. I told her I never wanted to hear from her again. That's because I don't want to hear when Stormy also is killed.

I get desperate for homes, too desperate, and stupidly hand them over to people who let them be killed, torn apart alive, by predators.

The same fate befell two wonderful kittens from two horrid situations, one down in Shedd and the other on Vine street in Albany. Both were silver tabbies and adopted out by a woman who should have known better than to let them free roam her large N. Albany acreage where she knew there were predators. She told me she'd keep them inside. Both were killed, didn't even last a year. All I went through to save them, all the heartache and expense and love I put into them. Makes you wonder if it's even worth it.

So I name this female Misty, after that other Misty, that delightful laid back wonderful cat, born in a homeless camp, who died in the hands of a high income class woman. Had Misty been able to remain in the homeless camp, although she couldn't because it was being bulldozed, with the lowest class of people out there, she'd still be alive, and loved, I have no doubt.

The higher income class woman saw Misty's function not as a companion but as a mouser, expected to do her duty, roaming nights amidst the coyotes. When she died, she wanted to replace her worker, and if she did, that cat will suffer the same horrible fate.


Sassy, Misty (hiding) and Stilleto.

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