Thursday, April 20, 2017

The Porn Shop Cats

Why do cats and porn shops go together?

Hell if I know.

But they seem to.

I trapped behind a porn shop in Corvallis for kittens years ago.   Boy, was that interesting.  I remember wading the canal full of muck and trash behind it and a Chinese place, to get to a trap I'd set.  It was closed, I could see.   I pull up the towel covering it, where the trap was set, along the far bank of that ditch full of ick, and a HUGE rat comes right at me, from inside the trap, like he was waiting for that moment, to make his move.  I jumped backwards so bad I lost my footing and dunked myself almost completely in the mire.   The rat earned his freedom.   I admire pluck like that.

I trapped behind and around the porn shop in Springfield years ago too.   The Best Buy was being built then.  I followed cats around cars parked in the empty lot clear til 3:00 in the morning.  I took a break over to the IHOP then, got breakfast, coffee, read the paper.  The paper told about a missing Arizona man, described his jeep, gave the plate number.   It rang a bell.  Wasn't that the same jeep I'd been setting traps around, after this one tuxedo?   I went back over.  Plate number matched.  I peeked in.  It was steamed up and saw the glare of something, looked like dead eyes to me.   I jumped back that time too.  When I recovered, I went and called my friend, who put me up to the trapping there.  I figured I shouldn't call this in.  How would I explain what the hell I was doing there at such an hour.  Other cat trappers would sure understand but I didn't want to spend time at the police station explaining a cat trapper's ways.  My friend called it in to police.

Turned out the guy killed himself.

So now a call about another porn shop with cats?   Why not?  This time it was the porn shop in Albany.

There were three cats and they did not feed them but were disturbed by the fighting and spray marking going on under the building.  The girl was pregnant.  The two boys were easy catches after they split up.  Had to get between them, to trap them, otherwise, they were just all intent on killing each other.   Damn hormones.

Next day, I came back and caught the girl.  Yeah, she was pregnant.

Named them Bambi, Magic Mike and Guido.

Nice porn shop cat names, I thought.

The two boys are now in Sweet Home with the woman who received the call.  She has a one person nonprofit too.  I got all three fixed today, however, first, at Heartland.   The girl was picked up by a friend of mine.  She needed a girl barn cat.  The boys aren't doing the job.

Magic Mike

Guido

Bambi
Yesterday wasn't so good other than catching Bambi early on.  I got sick, something I ate the night before I think.   Oh my.  All day.  Misery.   I tried to bend over to change Magic Mike's trap papers and ended up hurling all over the garage.    Then I had to clean that up.

I'd hurt my shoulder even worse, with just a slight turn when getting into my car.  There was a pop sound, and horrible pain in my shoulder and down my arm.   I had slept most of the day after that, trying to rid myself of the stomach problems and the shoulder pain.

But the problems were not over.  I move my car in, before bed at night, and heard a hissing sound.  A tire was going flat, losing air fast.   I had to bite the bullet so to speak, take the tire off, put the donut on, all with a screaming shoulder.  That's life.

I did get the cats over to Heartland this morning, to be fixed, with the donut on the one wheel, no problemo.   Then I went to Schwab and got four new tires, their lowest end, but they still are supposed to take me 40k miles which would put my mileage if they went 40K miles indeed, at 320,000 more or less.  Dream on!   I almost went for the 60K mile tires.  I have faith in my car!

My contractor friend came soon after I got home from Schwab and getting the tires.  I'd got the metal T posts to secure the side fence that crosses the driveway.  He brought his electric concrete drill and drilled out holes at the base of the wood 4x4 posts.  Then he pounded the T posts in, first with a short handled sledge hammer, then with a metal tube that goes over the fence post.  One end is open, one isn't.  It has handles on both sides.  He raised that up and slammed it down against the top of the metal T post until he'd driven the 7 foot post down several feet into the wet ground beneath the concrete.  He did that for three posts then secured the metal posts to the wood posts with conduit straps I bought at Home Depot when I bought the T posts.  All the while he is cracking jokes.  He is the funniest guy.  His wife was in the car entertaining the grandchild who was polite as could be and said with serious mouth and bunched up eyes, like he was trying to get it out right, "Pleased to meet you," when I leaned in through the open car window to say hello.

The fence is rock solid now.   He looked it up and down, and said "You did a good job on it."  I felt pride well in me, for that to come from the mouth of a professional.

So the porn shop cats are caught, fixed and gone.  The car tires are good now.  The fence is solid.   And my shoulder?  Well, time heals, is all I can think to say.







4 comments :

  1. You are so amazing. That's all I can say.

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  2. I am not surprised you did a good job. I think it is intrinsic to who you are.
    Now rest. Please. That shoulder is ONLY going to get better if you don't damage it more.

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  3. Quite a few dollars outlaid, but it sounds like a reasonably satisfying week, aside from your shoulder. I guess the term donut means a temporary spare wheel only good for short distances at lower speeds. They are all excellent porn shop names but will be wasted on them.

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  4. Once again, when are going to write your memoirs about all you've seen and done? A great title for a chapter would be, "The Porn Shop Cats".

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