FBI, Pay Up! And, the Ghost Cat

Interesting story on the web today (click post title) about the FBI's Patriot Act phone surveilance program. Their lines are getting disconnected because they're not paying their bills. This is not the first time stories of federal agencies failing to pay have hit the web. In southern Oregon, after a Presidential visit during the last campaign, a hotel didn't get paid forever, where Bush staff and Secret Service stayed. I remember the anguished owner appealing for payment on TV.

Well, after all the mess I've had with the mailbox keys, today, I found that key. It was in the pocket of a sweatshirt that had fallen down in the narrow space between the bed and the wall. I didn't even remember wearing that sweatshirt, since I rarely do. I wore it the day I was going to Portland, because I was washing my regular coat so I could take it and have it clean. Now, I remember (bonking myself on forhead).

Kind of too late to be useful. My mail is no longer being delivered. I've paid the fee and maybe tomorrow the locks will be changed. Tomorrow afternoon, I might be able to get the keys. Otherwise, it will be Monday.

I haven't missed getting mail. It's just one less thing I have to do.

Caught the last two of the four Millersburg cats. They'll be fixed tomorrow. The other two, a male and a female, born last summer, were fixed yesterday. I returned them today when I picked up the last two.

Been after the ghost calico again, out on 34 and 99. Thought I saw her last night, in the dark and rain, a bright spot of white against the darkness. I set a trap. Another trapper gave me a lift, so I could hop out, instead of walking a mile with a trap in the rain. But just as she put on her blinkers and pulled to the side of a road, a cop car passes us. So instead of hopping out, I waited inside the car. We knew the cop would be back. He was.

He was a very pleasant man. We heard a dog barking and I asked him "What is that?" He said "Oh, it's my dog. We're headed to training." My cat trapper buddy told him what we were doing and he said "Good for you" or something. He was just a really nice man, I thought.

Off he drove and I went to set the trap. Caught nothing. I checked it early this morning. Again, I saw the circle of white, only this time in a different place. I began to wonder if that's not something else I'm seeing. Is it car lights somehow, but I couldn't reproduce the object, by waiting until cars went by at various angles and speeds and directions.

Then I began to wonder if that calico I saw got killed and now she's haunting the area. I wonder that. I've seen a ghost cat before.

I used to have a ghost cat waken me, by kneading on me, then it would move off, and rub up against the wall, still kneading. I wasn't afraid although I was intensely startled. I'd see the form of the cat, long hair, big ruff on it's neck, a tuxedo, although no color was evident, but I never recognized the cat as one I'd encountered. It was like it wanted or needed something from me.

Then it would just vanish, like it thought better of showing itself or got scared or, well I don't know what. I don't anything about such things. I'd reach out my hand to it, but it was almost as if it didn't see my hand.

I never knew what it needed from me and the visits stopped eventually. I think it probably needed comfort. Most cats that die unloved or abandoned or starving, that's what they'd want I figure---comfort and love. So I didn't mind it coming like that. I mean, why would I.

But anyhow, I don't know what's going on with the calico. Kind of wierd. Kind of wierd also what went on with the trap, too. I won't say what it looked like this morning, but if that was a ghost cat I saw, that would explain it. So I'm going to try to settle with whatever it is, if it's a ghost. I'm going to give it everything a nice pampered house cat would ever want and see if that makes it more content. And I'm going to invite it to come with me, to live here.

I got room for ghost cats here, too. They don't eat much. They don't get fleas or worms or URI's. They don't reproduce, spayed or not.

So, you're all thinking I'm off my rocker. Sure, I'm telling you this kind of tongue and cheek. Maybe I am off my rocker good now. There's things out there we don't know about. And I'm just stumbling through life anyhow.