Tuesday, June 24, 2014

The Rain Box Kittens



Last night, fairly late, a woman calls me up. I ran into her once, when I was looking for someone else, whose cat I was to pick up to be fixed. She kept my number all this time. She wanted help getting some cats on her block fixed, and, a neighbor had just asked her to come with her to investigate screaming kittens in a box. She quickly called me back. Her boyfriend would not let her bring them into her rental, but the kittens, left outside in a box, with FREE written across one flap, needed help. I did not hesitate. I jumped in my car and picked them up. There's nothing I can offer for help in fixing cats, except information. They were cold and starved. I had just one old packet of KMR, but I mixed it up and heated up my two warming frisbies and fed the kittens, after warming them up, held them, put them to bed in a carrier, and didn't get much sleep. There's nothing like tiny kittens to quickly create a big mess and also wear out a grown woman. I'm worn out. The mess is cleaned up. Haha, smiling here. The bottle babe specialists at PAWS in West Linn took in the kittens and even met me halfway this morning. I'm off to bed!

Wednesday, June 18, 2014

Studley is Getting a Home!

Heartland just e-mailed, apparently excited, because as they were e-mailing, Studley was getting a home and they wanted to tell me the news.  And I wanted to tell all of you.  Cross your fingers for yard stray number 49!

Studley is getting a home.

Good luck, kid, be good!

THANK YOU, HEARTLAND HUMANE for giving him this chance.


Here is the last update I got from Heartland:  "They adopted him around 3 o'clock today and by 5 they were sending us pictures of him sprawled out on their couch and thanking us for their new "son". So I think he really lucked out!"

Sounds like he got a great home.  Yahoo!

Three Ancient River Cats

I visited my old friend last night.   I worried some about the visit, because the last time I visited, it brought back very traumatic memories, of a very hard time in my life.  I was wracked with nightmares and regrets and horrors of the past for several weeks.  This was a best friend from back in those hard days, who helped me escape that life within the horrid brutal mental system.

Part of the time I lived in Corvallis, under the iron fist, forced medication, poverty, stigma and cruelty of the mental system, I spent most of my time along the river, living there sometimes when I had no other place.  I was arrested there once, for yelling at a barge, dumping huge rocks along the river, and threatening my river cats and other wildlife I had grown to love.  Like Beavis, a huge beaver living along the banks, destroyed by the Corvallis project that created the river front park.

I tried so hard to save my river cats from the city's big plans for the banks.  Despite poverty, I had one by one trapped them to be fixed.  I sometimes had to carry the cat in the trap half a mile, back to the room I rented in a low income hotel.  I had no car most of that time.

My friend took in two of the river cats, Scratch--daughter of Captain Courageous, the angel of the river, and Half n Half, who lived under Allan Brothers coffee warehouse, in the alley, next to Mater Engineering.  Both her brothers were killed and I can't go into the details because it will make me cry.  Those cats were my family, virtually the only beings in the world who cared for me.

Scratch was just a little puny thing, who cried continuously.  Halfnhalf, "Halfie" now, was older when my friend took her in, after I trapped her on Christmas.  I remember going into the lobby of the Chinese place to take a break from trapping, and hoping to use the restroom and being shooed out like a stray by the owner, who thought I was homeless and therefore worthless.

It's hard to believe it now, but those girls are both 19 years old.  Vision, my river cat here, is 20.  I began helping cats as pay back to those river cats who helped me because with them, I finally had a family.  I haunted the rocks along the river with them.  They were my people.  I found my place, my tribe, love with them.

Precocious precious wonderful Scratch, former Corvallis river cat, now 19 years old.

Halfnhalf, an adult full out feral, when I trapped her, tamed to become a lap cat and has been cherished.  She too is 19 years old.



What a traumatic time I had of it back then.  The river cats turned the course of my life.  I left the mental system, left Corvallis behind, and have the satisfaction of remembering that despite poverty and tremendous odds against me, I did not abandon my family.  When the river project talk started up, despite extreme shyness, I spoke out publicly against it, never mentioning the cats, fearing if I brought the cats into it, they'd be killed instantly, in a society and a town where feral cats were thought of as vermin and Heartland Humane still killed hundreds of cats every month.

Scratch, Halfie and Vision are ancient as the river itself and part of me.

They always will be part of me.

Vision, daughter of Captain Courageous and my beloved river girl, now 20.


Tuesday, June 17, 2014

Cat Day Rain


Would you not like to, now, if you live in Oregon, as I do, doze all day, like Miss Daisy?

It is, afterall, raining here.  Overcast with drizzle.  Have a little gray with your morning coffee, will you?

Thunderstorms with hail, that remained on the ground, like snow, tore through Portland, delighting those who like a little bit of something different served up.

My cat friend in Nebraska experienced extreme weather activity and barely missed riding the center of a Tornado.  She and her family are ok.  That's the good part.

No fires consuming the forests here right now either, like in California. I got no complaints.  Well, I do, but they'd seem kind of teensy and lame to even mention given the really horrible events going on for people in the world.

Slurpy adores Miss Daisy.  These two have been best friends for years.

Slurpy lowers her ears backwards, trying to entice Miss Daisy to groom her.

Miss Daisy would not groom Slurpy, who then appeals to me for petting.  I accommodate!  Of course!

Starry and Miss D are also friends.  Slurpy is a deeper and more loyal kitty than Starry, who craves love and attention and can become jealous.


The nine cats from the Albany business now here, including Rogue and Cougie, who both had all teeth removed in the last months, are family and still stick together.  In the above photo, four of the BN (business nine) sleep together.  Photo shows: Stiletto on the left, Sassy in back, Cougie up front and Misty in the back on the right.

Haley, another of the BN, LOVES life here and plays like a kitten every single day!

Sassy again.  Born to look Furtive!
Buffy is getting older.

Buffy's age, only makes her play more, with more toys.
Sam is such a character. One minute good, the next starting something up.

In the end, after the litter boxes are cleaned, the floors swept and mopped, the dishes done again, we stare, out the window, wishing for the sun.
We live a very simple life here, myself and the cats.  We eat, clean, clean more, sweep, mop, do dishes, read books (not the cats), take walks, play, and do it all again. It is quite a lot of daily cleaning and washing, to take proper care of these cats, a lot of physical work that keeps me moving most of the day.

 Once a week, I get groceries, and that's to make sure also I get out of the house at some point.  Once a month I go to a bigger cheaper grocery store in Salem to stock up on other items for the next month.  I go pick berries to enjoy this summer and to freeze for the winter and so I can make jam.

Twice a month now, although we've just started, I go out to breakfast with another woman in town.  That's it, that's my fancy life, but it's ok.

I know we're supposed to want more, especially here, in America.   I should risk the hand I'm holding to lay it down for a better hand.  But this is the best hand I've ever held, right here, right now, I swear!

Monday, June 16, 2014

Studley Mewlittle, former yard stray, Waits at Heartland for a Home

Studley is still waiting, over at Heartland Humane, in Corvallis, Oregon, for a home.

Want a nice kitty?  He's nice.

Want a pretty kitty?  He's pretty.

He's got a nice sad story to boot.   He was living life as a stray, caught him in my yard, after he decided to make it home, along with the single mom with son's yard, and he slept in the dead neighbor's yard.  What a relief it must have been for that starving boy, to find three houses, two of them occupied, where he would not be chased off or yelled at.  However, he would be trapped, fixed and helped.

But now he waits, at Heartland, over in Corvallis, for a brand new home and life.

Go adopt him.  PLEASE!  Give him a break, love, that wonderful home.  Keep him inside, safe from cars, dogs, predators and nasty cat haters.

Please.  Share.  Help Studley get a new life.  Thanks!

Here's a link to the cats for adoption page at Heartland.  Scroll down to find Studley Mewlittle.
Find Studley on this page!

Here are photos of dear Studley when he roamed my yard.  He's been neutered now for some time.  About a month after neuter, those hormones causing territorial behaviors, generally are mostly gone.
Studley found the stray feeder!

He was sooo skinny for an adult male and had on an old flea collar that had given him a bad rash.

After trapping Studley, I put him in a comfy cage in the garage where he gobbled four plates of food!

He waited as I tried to find a shelter that could take him.  Safehaven, in Albany, refused him, but Heartland in Corvallis said they would take Studley and that is where he is now.
This is Studley the day I took him to Heartland (my camera had begun acting up around then, failing to expose properly).  Studley was very well behaved for his exam and blood test.  He tested negative for FIV/Felk.

Spread the word about stately gorgeous Studley, at Heartland in Corvallis, waiting for a home.  My former yard boy!  THANK YOU!

Friday, June 13, 2014

Camera Almost Dead (I think). Dead Neighbors Lawn Mowed!

My beloved camera has been giving me problems for a month now, off and on.  Sometimes it works, often it won't work now, seriously underexposing even outdoor photos.  Sometimes it still works ok, but most of the time it doesn't and I have to photo alter the brightness.  Here is an example of a photo I took outside this morning and have not altered brightness using Picassa.

Looks for all the world as if the photo was taken in the dark.

Yes, some guy came and mowed down dead Jack's yard this morning, but left somewhat of a mess, like the white siding splattered in grass clippings.  At least its mowed.

I saw another neighbor from down the block writing down the contact info from the sign inside the window.  I knew by then, that company no longer manages the house, so I went out to talk to him and told him about the new company, Five Brothers, who manages it now.  He also intended to call the city.   I guess he got results because it got mowed!

But what to do about my failing camera. I have read all sorts of things online.  I guess this can be a problem with even new cameras of the same brand as mine and mine is many years old now.   The battery compartment latch failed about three years ago, so I rigged a fix for that.  But up until a month ago, it still took great photos.  Not so much anymore.  Makes me sad.

The camera's auto ISO sensor is not working correctly, is what I have determined, reacting to cloudy days by exposing with a sunny outside ISO number, 80 in the photo at the top of this post. Even sometimes inside it refuses to adjust correctly, almost like it forgot to turn on. I push the dedicated ISO button a few times, and sometimes that helps. Although image quality will be reduced, I switched to auto "high" setting for now and may resort to manual, instead of auto settings, to extend the camera's life. In Auto settings you can choose either standard ISO or "high" ISO, but, the downside of choosing the latter is reduced image quality so I don't usually use that but I will try it, when the darn LCD screen changes to a dark screen just as I try to take the shot, which is what is happening. Looks nice and bright and normal in the LCD, then just as I push down on the shutter, changes to dark. A brand new camera of the same make and model costs about $200, and I'm going to start saving up. Sometimes the camera ISO auto setting works just fine but not so much lately. The camera is beyond its rated longevity in average number of shutter clicks birth to death by many thousands.

But maybe it's not all that bad.  I probably will not have internet beyond October of this year, since that is when my deal with comcast ends. Maybe its November.  I can't remember.  I got the deal for a year.  But I don't think I'll get another I can afford.  In fact, Comcast has been assailing me with fliers urging me to take some $99 a month deal for TV and internet.

LOL   Like I have that kind of dough every month.  Internet and TV are a luxury.   I barely watch TV now that I watch only what is currently coming through the air and my rusty old roof antenna can pick up.  I have become very used to the picture pixelizing into nothing, vaporizing before my eyes, often in the most crucial time of a TV show.   I've learned to survive the disappointment, turn it off, and walk away.

I suppose I'll survive without internet, too, after an adjustment period.  I don't have much hope I'll score another cheap deal through Comcast, especially since they conglomerated with some other big company they just bought.  My stomach churned over that deal when I heard talk on the news of comcast and some other company trading off "assets" to each's benefit and realized by "assets", they were talking about us, the customers.  We are not even human beings anymore.  We're just globs of flesh to be traded by big corporations for their benefit.  I thought, "Shit, man, that's cold," when I realized.

So, no affordable deal, means no internet and no internet means I won't be posting pictures anywhere, so no need for a camera either.

I might be really lightening up soon.  The camera and the computer are about the only things left in here I play with daily.  I'll adjust, I suppose.  I always do in the end.  Might do a lot of grumbling during the adjustment period.  Probably there will be some swearing.

Miracles happen.  Comcast could come up with another cheap deal to appease the masses.  It could happen.  If it does, awesome.  If it doesn't, oh well.

For now, all is good in my little world.  Dead Jack's lawn got mowed.  It's raining, and I'm not for that, I'll just add.  Nope, not for that at all.  This is summer, Oregon.  Enough with the rain.

There's plenty bad in the world.  Another school shooting, up outside Portland.  But, the murderous teen was stopped in his tracks, loaded to kill hundreds, when he encountered a teacher, a track coach, who ran like the wind.  The teacher was grazed by a bullet.  The kid chased him, but it was a track coach he was chasing.  No chance of catching him!  That teacher got to the office and initiated lock down.  Within moments, school resource officers were after the shooter, engaging him.   He ran into a bathroom stall and ended it himself, with a shot to his own head.

One bright light, a 14 year old, was snuffed out by the killer teen.   The young man killed was a soccer fanatic and played on a team.  At the Portland Timbers game last week, at minute 29, which was Emilio's jersey number, the game stopped and the crowd stood, chanting and waving their Timber scarves in honor of Emilio.  This display of remembrance broke me down in sobs.

I was up at the lake two days ago, to row. I need exercise. I love the lake and water.  However, I encountered some youngsters, although some were older youngsters, probably late teens and early twenties.  I talked to them, from my raft, just asking if they were having fun.  I think there were a dozen up on the rocks there and swimming.

I rowed off, and suddenly there was a loud bang.  I whirl to see the hot tip of a flare skipping across the water, maybe 25 or 30 feet from me.  I stare at the rocks and realize they've shot a flare gun my way and I could have been hit or my raft destroyed.  I try to think quickly of what I should do.  Another bang and a flare hits on the other side of me, also skipping along the water before bouncing into the brush, where it could have started a fire.  At this point, I start rowing hard as fast as I can, to get out of their sight and range.

Flare guns don't aim well.  They missed to one side of me the first time, overcompensated and missed to the other side.  I was below them and the water was choppy.  These things were to my favor.  Those young people, whom I'd just chatted with, were they now trying to hurt me or scare me? And why, I wonder, just for fun?

I reported it to the sheriff the next day.  I knew there was nothing the deputy could do, but I had no cell with me up there, on the raft or even in my car.  I tried to e-mail a report to the sheriff that night, but the e-mail got bounced back.   I will  have a cell with me at all times in the future.

I was taken aback by the episode.

I am also glad I am alive and my raft wasn't trashed.  Why do kids do such things?  Don't ask me.  Never, even in my rebellious young years, did I consider shooting anything towards another human being.  There is no way I can understand a person who does that.








Tuesday, June 10, 2014

Abandoned Properties. Dead Neighbors House Vanishing in the Weeds

The neighbor has been dead now for 10 months.  He's long gone, but his house?  Now that's another matter.

The dead neighbor had no will except made out to his wife, also long dead, dead over 12 years.  He had no heirs save a daughter whom he never visited, from a long former encounter.

The house had a reverse mortgage on it.  When the neighbor died, the house reverts to mortgage holder.

By law in Oregon, banks have to take care of their acquired real estate and not just let them rot to hell.  Fines can be levied against banks who don't take care of their properties.  Well the bank who owns the dead neighbors' place needs fined to high heaven.  They are not maintaining it.


There's a sign posted out inside dead Jack's front window, proclaiming the property is being managed by National Field Service.  They are a big huge national property management company and hire local contractors to do the work.  A couple has come by twice since January to mow, but before late spring, when grass really grows.   We have not seen them come in weeks.


Yesterday, however, some woman in brownish gold car lacking hubcats pulled into his driveway.  She started taking photos with an ipad.  I mosied on up not recognizing her.  She claimed they manage the property.  I said "Who are you?"  She said Five Brothers and we'll install a lock box all that.  I said "Lockbox is already installed and check out the sign on the window.  This place is managed by National Field Service, not Five Brothers."

She didn't really have an answer, claimed National Field Service is an affiliate of Five Brothers, which it isn't, I don't think.  I think they are competitors.   She posted no new sign inside, but did ask how much property was left inside, which I immediately felt was a creepy thing to ask.  Was she casing this house for burglary?  I asked her for a card.  She said she didn't have any.  She claimed she was only paid $4 to come take photos of the  house, clear from Salem. 

I said if you are with Five Brothers, when are you going to mow this place.  She said she doesn't mow, but that she'd be back in maybe a month.  "For what?" I ask.  "Why would you come back, if you don't mow?"

"Well, to check on it," was all she said.

I'm getting mad.  These property management companies are hired by banks to maintain property then they don't do it and they collect the money anyhow, leaving neighbors of abandoned properties to wring their hands and curse and think really bad thoughts about banks and property companies.

I won't mow it.   The bank is responsible for hiring an honest property management company.  It would be pathetic to "volunteer" for a rich bank.   In the meantime, the wild roses out back are awesome and the barely owned cats from the house a street over have a play ground.

And now my dearies, as the news on TV provides endless coverage of the latest school shooting, this one up in Troutdale, some peaceful photos of kitties......
OK, if you are yelling "those aren't cats" you are right.  They're cherries, on my tree, but too high up for me to get at, even with my tallest ladder.
Buffy in her basket.

Toothless Cougie with Gracie

Quirky sister Fantasia

Toothless Gretal in the cat run

Bluebell!

Vino the male model

Perfect Panda
Rogue finds that one cat bed is just not enough.
Sam heads for the cat yard.

Thursday, June 05, 2014

Rage Against the Machine

Time to replace the mop head.  Simple, eh?  Especially since I bought several replacement sponges when I bought the mop itself.

It's a Quikie brand mop.

  Like the replacement sponges.  It has a place for a little red scrubber sponge, which is included in the refill sponge package.

I have two of these.


Uh oh.  Doesn't look good for a fit.

 No Way!


WTF?

These greedy companies, who operative with dishonesty and deception to maximize profits on crappy product.

You stole from me, Quickie and your execs should be in jail.

Hey Quickie mop maker people, I hope your beds are invaded with bugs.  I hope mice chew up your breakfast cereal and poop in it.   I hope the cops pull you over for speeding and you have warrants out for unpaid tickets and there are nasties in the holding cell.

Hey Quickie mop maker people, I found a Libman head and made it fit so I am mopping away anyhow and I'm going to get Libman heads now for your damn cheap plastic Quickie mop.

Hahahahaha.

Monday, June 02, 2014

Miss Daisy's Joy, Etc.

I think about getting old. I don't want to be one of those grouchy unyielding seniors who are decidedly not fun and set in their ways. Miss Daisy here is envied by the young cats who cannot fathom her ignorance of life's unfairness and tragedy. I can tell them she is not ignorant of life's pain. She still has nightmares where she tries to run in her sleep while crying. She must still remember some horrid person throwing her from a car, then, probably shooting at her from close range. But such memories do not stop her from enjoying life. I try to be like her. I've been in the doldrums from PTSD, remembering horrors of my past, and involvement in terrible animal cruelty, as witness, trying to stop it. When I'm having these difficulties even driving by some addresses brings on the flashbacks and nightmares and guilt of what I should have done or not done. All I can do is wait it out and distract myself. Like Miss Daisy!
Marbles for Toes!
I bought some marbles at the dollar store so I can do toe exercise, to help my feet. I transfer them each night ten times with each foot's toes, tray to tray. The cats stare in disbelief and envy.
Vino is such a happy kitty!
Meesa in her window.
Tilly is Rogue's lookalike sis!
Lick your lips, Slurpy!
Raindrop, Rogue in a carrier, and Stilleto eating--carrier shelf cats!
Raindrop up closer

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 ...