The Pain of Moving On

I am still attempting to help the rest of the cats out of their dire straits out at that Lebanon situation.

The good news is, the ones lost from a garage in Lacomb, where they were being held until placed, have returned and now will live there.  That's five cats we don't have to place because they chose where they've living.

They were already fixed fortunately.

There are two who did not escape in Lacomb and six here, but only three here are fixed.  There are 13 still on the property according to the woman still living there.

We have enough placements I believe for all of them.  The lack of ways and means to get them all fixed quickly has mired this project nearly to death.  The only option out there now for that many is to wait it out for FCCO appointments then drive them all the way up to Portland.  The FCCO will work with people who can't pay the full suggested $30 per cat donation.  I can't and neither can the other woman helping out.

It's been a long haul.  The other woman already got I think 24 kittens out of there.  I trapped two of those and hand grabbed a miserably starved and dehydrated third.  I've trapped also 16 others.  Two of those escaped unfixed in Tangent.  Five others escaped a woman's garage room up in Lacomb, but were fixed.  That's already 40 cats and kittens out of there.  With 13 (allegedly) to go.

I foolishly stated I could house the ones going to the Heartland staffer until they take possession of their farm, maybe end of November.  I figured I could quickly build a cage and totally rearrange the garage so it would fit.

Really?  What a nutcase I can be.  My back isn't uninflamed yet from its last little whack out.

Oh but I'm going to completely redo the garage AND build a big cage, all in one or two days.  Then I'm going to trap 13 cats, care for them overnight in traps, which I'll hold, um, hmmmm, in the rafters, then transport them to the FCCO, sit all twisted up in the car in the pouring rain all day along a curb, watching homeless people walk by, before picking them up to come home and care for them, all of them, then two days later, take them all, except the Heartland staffers cats, to the new homes all over the valley.

Of course I will.   Without a twinge of back pain and I don't need sleep.

Oh god, I get in trouble with doing too much or not thinking about what I am thinking I can do.  It's a ton of work just to care for the cats I already have.  Add in all those extras, and where did I think I would magically come up also with a ton of money to do all these extras?  It will drop from the sky, I'm sure.  Of course it will.

It will be hard enough trapping 13 cats in a tiny room, the only place they can get out of the rain out there, because a storm is coming in, a big one.  I guess.  So I'm told by gulls who have taken over several parking lots in town.  They come in from the coast when storms hit there.  I'll have to get those cats seriously high on catweed, so they just won't care when they see their friends trapped right in front of them, in that cramped little feeding room.

There are still out there five grays, four orange and buff oranges, two blacks plus a black kitten and a calico.  Who knows how many really there are still out there.

I haven't been sleeping well since the break in on the block last week either.  I can't help but wake up every half hour now, to peer out every window.  I try to forget about it but I guess I really haven't.  I  suppose it just takes time.  I don't think the police care much about solving it.  Just the impression I got.  I'm probably wrong.  But its such a common crime here.

I'm getting a security cam, soon as I can, might help me sleep better.

Lousy rotten drug addict thieves anyhow.

In the meantime, I've gone delusional, thinking I'm superwoman and can do it all.  But I can't.

My back reminds me.

I rake leaves and rake leaves and rake some more leaves.  I clean litter boxes and clean litter boxes then clean them again.  I do laundry and more laundry.  I sweep and I mop and wash dishes and dishes and dishes and then I sit down in a lawn recliner chair and watch the TV flicker in and out of reception.

That's my life.

So forgive me when I get a little excited when I get a chance to do something again, even if its more than I can really do.