Not So Great

Today I tried to work on the unfinished cat run, through the garage, that everlasting hope, but didn't get much of anywhere and hurt my back again trying to hold something up. I tried to hire a contractor/handyman I know to come finish it and he said he would and right away, and then I never heard from him again. So I'm trying to do it myself and trying not to hurt myself doing it.

Then the garage door got messed up somehow. It's barely functioned since I moved in here. Real touchy and sometimes doesn't work at all. Now I have to hold the button down inside the entire time it's coming down, to get it to come down. Something's haywire.

I went over to Sweet Home to the Logger Boy colony. I had told them I'd be over at 4:00 and given them trapping instructions. They were not home and there was an unknown tame black and white cat in one of the traps. The other traps were all over the place, all set, some right beside each other, and out exposed to the pouring rain.

At that point, I thought, enough is enough. I"ve wasted enough time and money over here, and they don't even care about the time it takes me just to drive over. They're really nice guys. I like them. They're good to their cats. But we just can't seem to coordinate the endeavor very well.

I went over to Vicki's place, a block away, who is with KATA, and left a note on her door. Then I drove back over to the Logger Boys, intent on leaving a note on their door, too, to let them know it was over.

They had gotten home. They put one of their inside males into a carrier, then went after the other one. I let them. I mean, it's their cat. So the guy got bitten. So I netted their loose male and put him into a carrier. I was feeling responsible for the guy getting bitten, but then, I couldn't have stopped him from going after his own cat like that. This is repeat behavior. They just can't not chase the cats and go after them like football tacklers.

They were anxious for me to leave. They wanted me to leave because they'd bought a bunch of Kentucky Fried Chicken and I don't think they wanted to eat it in front of me.

I left.

They had caught some tame big huge unneutered tux male. I again went by Vicki's to see if she could ID that male, because it's her turf. She's only a block from these folks. Her car was in the driveway this time, but there was no answer when I knocked over and over.

I went back and released that male. Too bad. He's tame and not theirs and I'm not taking in somebody's cat without asking them.

No more. The Logger Boys can get their own cats fixed. At least they pay for the fixes. It's an interesting household. The older man has a telescope. I asked him about it and he said his hobby, once he retires, is going to be astronomy. He's a logger, a strapping man, suspenders, pin striped blue and white workshirt, carharts, dirty boots. And he's into astronomy. How fascinating is that?

I then drove all the way to Corvallis, to south town, to some really dumpy duplexes. Some old couple feeds strays and the landlord said he wouldn't kill them if they were fixed. These are charity fixes all the way. Of course the landlord will not donate and nobody will because people suck. Everybody wants their cats fixed but they want it done for nothing. Everybody has a special reason why they are more special and deserving of free fixes and free labor.

It's just so funny to hear each person's special reason as to why they are exempt from responsibility. I suppose I'm just frustrated in a big way. I wish I had millions upon millions of dollars. I love getting cats fixed and I could then fix every cat I could trap or find, and not worry about asking the people to donate. I know I need to ask people to donate more, be more aggressive about it.

It's true, everyone whom I help should donate something. It's only fair. In the back of my mind always, when I complain about people who don't donate a dime, and when I'm trapping cats people feed, I am thinking of the volunteers up in Portland, working so hard to raise the money I use to pay for the fixes, mostly at Recycled Gardens. It is disrespectful to them for people to not donate something and for me not ask people to donate a little something.

Sometimes I wonder what some of the ultra conservatives I help with cats, what they would think if they knew many of the volunteers raising the money to help them, with hard work, are liberals.

Sometimes I think about that with a twinkle in my eye.