Four Cats Fixed Today Plus one PN

PN, among us spayneuterists, stands for Previous Neuter. One of the chicken farm cats was already neutered. And one she told me was a male, was actually a teen female in heat, with big bite wound on chin.

The Philomath area stray was also caught in the trap I left set in their garage. They adopted Cinnamon, a Bengal mix I took out of Camp Boondoggle last year. I got to see her again, fat and looking good. She seemed to recognize me, not at first, but after I began talking to her. We reminisced while I used their bathroom, where she was confined for the trapping of the stray, about the whole Camp Boondoggle experience. I said "Which camp did I find you in? Oh yeah, the trashed one up top, just a heap and suddenly you emerged from all that garbage and rubble. Remember me carrying you up and over the trains?" Anyhow, the caregiver brought over the big male this morning, very early. He is gorgeous and was neutered today.

The old couple cat I caught was not the male, as they had thought, but a female. I stopped by this afternoon and reset the trap and they left a message that shortly thereafter, the second cat needing caught was caught. I instructed them to put the cat in trap in their garage and I would pick the cat up tomorrow, when I bring back the cat fixed today. They paid in full for the female, in heat, fixed today and are also paying for the other one, which is wonderful.

I understand why the man is deaf. They have a yappy little dog with such shrill barks it goes straight to that little annoyance drive you nuts sound spot in the brain. They defended the constant yapping, first off, like it's a normal thing to have a shrill constant yapping going on, inside your house, and in your brain, and secondly, the old woman said "He has barks he has to get out."

Well, ok, I bet you know, lady, because he's yours, but I am taking my earplugs tomorrow, when I pick up the one cat and drop off the other.

So the calico kitten is almost dead. I gave her some antibiotic crushed into some Karo syrup. I have steamed her, too, in case it is pneumonia which is quite possible, but I am still thinking it is congenital heart defect and that the fluid in her abdomin is from her failing heart. I've seen so many die that way, it just hurts me.

Some have holes in their hearts, that, as they get a little bigger when growing, the hole gets bigger and they die. I had one kitten once get suddenly very ill. I thought Kia had pneumonia and so did the vet. But she took an X-ray, and what she had was a bizarre defect. Her aorta was wrapped around her trachea. As both grew, nothing good came of it. She died.

With her swollen belly, it's going to be heart failure. Gosh darn it. Gosh darn it anyway. In the morning, if she's still alive, I'll help her out, but seems like playing god and I don't like it one bit.

So anyhow, there were the five cats I took in. Three were from the chicken farm. I was told two of those were males and one a female. Instead, one was a PN and the other two were both females. No donation forthcoming from that one.

Then, we had the female from the old interesting couple in Albany. They swore this one was the male because they said the female had white on both sides of the gray around the nose. This one had white only to one side and that's what made him the male. They were sure of it. It was a female, in heat.

So the only one right, besides the one female from the chicken people, was the male from Philomath. I knew he was unneutered because I felt him up.

There are elements of trust and danger involved in sexing feral cats. At FCCO clinics, used to be my routine job and I didn't mind it, to be honest, because I was discreet and gentle.

What a job title, huh? Feral Cat Sexer.

Calico kitten update: It's 10:30 p.m. I had planned on being in bed long ago. But the little girl wants so much to live. Every breath she takes is a struggle now. She's wrapped in an electric blanket in a carrier, with a steamer going distantly, so just a bit goes through the carrier. I gave her a tad bit more nutrical, hoping to give her a bit of strength. But, she's worn down and gasping. If I'm near, she cries, using more strength, wanting me to put my hand over her, stroke her mouth with my finger. Then she closes her eyes, like she's in heaven already when I do that.

This comforts her.

She's so tiny, just three weeks old, to be in such a desperate battle, one she wants to win but there's no way. She really really likes life and wants to live. I want to sob now. There're so many souls out there, animal, human, desperate, wanting comfort and life and love and they will never get it.

If you get it anytime in your life, that's good. That young man, here in Albany, diagnosed like his aunt and mother and a cousin with ALS, death sentence, only 26, had his life ahead of him. He thought anyway. We all think, maybe, we are special and mortality doesn't apply, that we'll beat the odds, live no matter what, the hungry mouse syndrome, the only way we can go on, to believe it won't be me the owl comes for tonight. Not me. Even with the shadow of dark wings above.