I'm an International Adoption Agency Now. Success at Calico Triangles.

I'm big time now, after completing my first international adoption. I'm a big wig outfit. Oh yeah. Sure, I still have only one unpaid employee, working double and triple time, which is how I keep my big time operation in the light red, as opposed to extremely dark red ink.

I keep my one unpaid employee at it with vague promises of rewards like heaven or...well, that's about the only vague reward I have to offer my one unpaid employee, which, by the way, is me.

I do have one part time unpaid occasional employee also, who is the one who drove me and one-eyed Mickey all the way to northern Washington today where we all met up with his Canadian adoptor, who took Him over the border without incident from Homeland Security since he was headed out not in. Yay. I couldn't cross into Canada because I don't possess a passport. I need to learn to hop border fences. I bet there's a course I could take somewhere. Maybe farther south.

Anyhow, I was out late again Friday night, trying to trap the darn triangle calico at the 99E/Highway 34 interchange. I don't have the sense to give up. That area will hence forth be called "Calico Triangles". It is officially now renamed.

I caught her. Oh yeah.

I heard the rain pounding way before my alarm was set to go off at 4:30 a.m., for the trip to northern WA. I reluctantly, cursefully got up and headed out into the pouring rain to pull the two traps I had set in Calico Triangles.

I pulled the one in the middle of the triangle just north of 34, west of 99E, slogging through the mud. I had gone right past the one in the south triangle, figuring I'd pull the farthest first. I was soaked.

Then I went into the south triangle to get that trap and heard something metalic. I thought "Nah, I couldn't be that lucky that that trap just slapped shut." I was that lucky. Or the calico was. Boom, I had her. Isn't that just wierd?

I stood there in the pouring rain and darkness of 4:00 a.m. all alone and began whooping in extreme delight and doing the calico caught dance. My exhaustion vanished.

So I caught the poor girl, who is near starved to death. She's also gorgoues.

She's also a chameleon. She can look like a muted calico or tabbical one moment and like a classic calico in different light. I've never seen the like. It's bizarre. This is why I thought there were two out there. I now believe it's the same cat, but my gawd it is bizarre.

Then it was off to Canada. I settled her into the garage room quickly, and settled in the mill boiler room female my cohort, who drove us all to Canada brought over, after picking her up from a PHilomath mill worker, who brought her up Friday evening from the boiler room of the mill. Then by 6:00 a.m., we were off to Canada with Mickey, the one-eyed boy and his papers for crossing the border.

Getting Mickey his crossing papers was easy. I'd have to pay big bucks and wait decades to get my papers to cross the border now. All this security for me, while Mickey can freely cross with a valid rabies vaccine. Man. I don't have any contagious diseases. At least I don't think I do.

And then we just turned around, all within about half hour, and came back, another six hour drive. I couldn't believe A's ability to just focus so well on driving. She says she enjoys driving sometimes like that, long distance. She was amazing. I tried to sleep some, but was not greatly successful.

But Mickey has a home, a great home with a long time rescuer and geniune nice and funny person.

And me, I'm going to bed. No kidding. This time, I'm sleeping for a long time. I just drank a Nyquil cocktail.

When you're getting on or off 99E at Highway 34, glance into the triangles of grass in and around those on and off ramps. Think about the nights this pathetic soul obsessively pursued a chameleon cat, a smart and savvy calico intent on survival surrounded on all sides by a hostile dangerous world of speeding cars and concrete.

Tell your passenger, or the person on the other end of your cell phone conversation "This is Calico Triangles."

And say "This is where a relentless cat trapper spent a week saving a calico. She didn't have the sense to give up."

If I die from the exhaustion of this effort, I will die with a smile on my face and a grateful calico out mousing by day, curled in the hay at night of the barn now awaiting her. She'll have been spayed. Of course she'll be spayed before I'll allow myself the extravagance of death by exhaustion. Duh.