So I went back up Saturday night to the colony near Sweet Home. I'd trapped four of the six cats in the colony about ten days back, but failed to catch the mom of the four teens, or one of the teens.
I'd left my drop trap set up there, for the old guy to feed under, to get them used to it. And he did too. Not the usual.
I sat in my car, in the dark, out about 30 feet from the covered lighted garage, while he nervously watched from inside his house. I could see the curtains in the bathroom move. The bathroom window faces the garage. I knew he was watching and hoping.
The weather was horrible. Rain poured. Wind howled. It was cold. I could barely even see the drop trap through the rain hitting the windshield. Nonetheless I caught the mom cat very quickly. I transferred her into a trap, set the drop trap back up quickly and got back into my car. The wait would be long.
Over in Corvallis, the Civil War football game was in its last minutes. I'd heard some in and out coverage of the game on the car radio while driving up to the colony. The Oregon State Beavers were trouncing the Oregon Ducks. The Beavers had not won the Civil War football game in many many years, but this year the Ducks are crap and the Beavs whopped them. I'm not even a football fan but the news felt like a good luck omen.
I'd sat there freezing, barely breathing so I would not even move the car for almost two hours when that teen finally showed up and ducked under the drop trap to eat.. I didn't even know for sure it was the right teenager, since another one looks a lot like him, and the windshield was so hard to see through from rain. But I yanked the cord, to drop the trap over him, and it was the right teen, and the old man came out happy and I was happy too. They're getting fixed today. I named them, for the records, Norma and Norman, off Netflix's Bates Motel series, which I enjoy.
|Norma on the left, Norman on the right. They are getting fixed today.|
Well, they're up being fixed.
|Little Angel George|
|And George's partner in demolition, Agnes|
I named him Chinook for the King Salmon that roam the Pacific off Oregon's coast. But there's something wrong with him. He was very dehydrated when he came here and still is, plus he's only pooped once, little hard rabbit pellets too, like he is severely constipated or something. He still hasn't pooped much or eaten much. Giving him fluids and cat lax, keeping him warm and happy and hoping he will survive.