Cats for Tomorrow

I went to Corvallis today, to pick up Hope, which I did. She's doing ok. Not quite ok. She's on the offensive, most likely because the man had soft claws put on her front claws. This effectively psychologically declaws a cat, if only temporarily. A declawed cat is always on the offensive, feeling threatened, knowing he or she cannot defend itself. Thrusting a declawed cat or cat wearing soft claws into a new situation is asking for failure. I have to get those awful things off of her.

I've never met a psychologically sound declawed cat. A declawed cat will often take to biting, will often be unhappy for the rest of its life and in pain a good share of its life. Declawed cats are often abandoned, as other cats are, and they have a very tough time of it out there. I tell people who want to declaw a cat that what they really want as a pet is a stuffed animal. Cats come with claws. Can't deal with that? Get yourself a nice stuffed animal. Or a turtle maybe. Declawing is incredibly cruel to the cat, physically and mentally.

I stopped to drop off some clothes I never wear or that don't fit, at the Cats Meow thrift store and someone there, who used to work at DariMart, was at the counter. She exclaimed "Oh my, am I glad to run into you." (I immediately went into search mode. I didn't remember her.) She told me then she used to be a Darimart clerk. Now she's couching it at a friends, who has a male cat in desperate need of fixing. I'm picking him up in the morning.

Later on, someone who lives in a Corvallis trailer park called. They have three, I believe they said, unfixed cats. I told them I'd pick them up in the morning. They said they had no money right at the moment but would make it right later on, by donating something. How different sometimes the desperately poor are from the wealthy.

I'm still fighting it out with the Hull Oaks founders wife, who had promised to pay my expenses in getting the cats trapped down there at the mill and for the fixes and promised the cats would be left alone, if fixed. I never saw a dime and now she wants the cats gone, I hear.

And now I guess if I want any reimbursement, she wants me to come down and see her about it. More like play games of cat and mouse, with me the mouse. I already sent her the list of services rendered. I'm through with the games. She's wealthy and could pay the costs of the fixes a million times over and never even miss it. These trailer park people, they don't have anything at all, and want to try to make payments. The contrast is just incredible to me.

After getting Hope settled in here I headed over to the BS, with what vaccines I had left, wormer too. I vaccinated as many more as I could, until I ran out of vaccines, then wormed as many as I could, and trimmed nails and cleaned ears. Then I came home with the three five month old kittens of the black female, who was nowhere to be found. The caretaker had cleaned the garage today, which disturbed the wilder cats, so it wasn't a big shock she wasn't around. These are one girl, a torti, and two boys, one black and one gray.

Ozzy got a home today, too, with a woman and her very sweet daughter. Elmo left yesterday. So I'm out of kittens, but I have Hope and I have Brambles, Shady and Mooki, the teens, and I have big lovable Snowman still, too. Getting the four most adoptibles homes, the three teens and Snowman, is now my big priority. Snowman is the biggest sweetheart you'll ever meet. Someone out there will want him, if they meet him. I know it.