Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Today's Disgusting Project

Disgusting project for today: rid myself of the stinky loveseat.

Now, I've had that loveseat almost since I moved in here. When I came here, I had virtually no furniture to fill such an expansive living space. My tow truck friends, whom I know from trapping cats at one place of business they've had to another and then at their residence property, found the loveseat beside a furniture store dumpster and brought it over.

The problem with having cats and get previously smelled up furniture is sometimes, they decide to mark over the previous smells. And that is what happened to this loveseat. I've wanted to get it out of here forever.

But I didn't. Same troubles. Can't afford dump prices.

But couches are all foam and wood. And I know a family who has an outdoor firepit in their backyard, and always are interested in discarded old wood, for their almost nightly sits around the campfire.

Last night, I took them the wood from the chair. Today, I'm taking them the wood from the love seat. I dismantled it and oh my gawd, I'm glad I did. It was stinky to the innards.

Getting rid of the foam and cloth outer cover isn't as easy. But it will go, piece by piece, in the garbage. It can't be re-used.

I've had too much to do lately. I injured one foot. I still have two black and blue toes from the bad shoe marathon hike. My hands are punctured and torn from getting rid of the chair, piece by piece. But these things must be done.

I got a short chair couch that pulls out into a single bed from the moving neighbors. And a leather couch from them also. They look a lot nicer than the old disgusting love seat and recliner. Out with the disgusting. In with the less disgusting.

I've worried, since the moving neighbors have cats, that the new used furniture will start a pee markover fest. So far, so good.

I got called by the old woman in Lebanon again. The feral Siamese mother I trapped over there, the latest that is, whose kittens I found by following her after I released her, has brought over four of the five kittens from the barn across the road. The fifth disappeared and the disappearance is probably related to why that next day, she marched the other four across the road to the old lady's place.

She wants the kittens fixed. Actually, she wanted me to take them but finally settled on getting them fixed. I told her I can't right now, that I still travel clear to Wilsonville with them, and that my car is making clanking noises, when I go over bumps. It's true. I have no idea what is wrong. I've tried to find what is wrong but I can't figure it out.

I also need at least two tires that aren't as bald as the two up front are now. Wrecking yard search time.

She also wanted once again to try to convert me to her brand of religion. She's set on that. It's always Jody the Infidel to the rescue of these in trouble Christians. But they still want to convert me to their kind. I resist. I tell them plainly that if their religion is so great how come their own people don't help them out. I think it's a valid arguement.

The Lebanon trailer park is full of professing Christians too busy going to church to take care of the cats they get or themselves. Then there was the memorable Albany woman with all the cats, all unfixed, who screamed at me for asking her to get her nine cats inside, so I could better trap the last five unfixed ones, even though she had a trap and could have easily gotten off her butt, if she could shut up long enough, and trapped them herself. She was always in church and wanted me to convert over to her church, which is a different church than either of the aforementioned. I told her to ask her fellow churchies to start helping their church members out, like her, instead of Jody the Infidel always coming to the rescue because something ain't quite right there.

I said to tell them to quit preaching and start doing something useful.

I remember the evangelics. I got a bunch of cats fixed there. They were animal abusers. They let one kid they were "mentoring" shoot the cats when they came to eat, with a .22, from the window. She told me herself that her sister, also an evangelical, loved kittens and then, when they got older, would kill them in horrible ways. I said, "So that's how Jesus would behave, eh? So you're talking to me about God, right and wrong, but on the other hand you're doing this kind of shit. You behave like serial killers, like monsters."

I said, "God help us all." She later told me she thought about that statement, the "what would Jesus do" line, and said I was right, that they should be kind to the animals. I am not convinced they changed. I think she said that to me for my sake. I'll believe her when I see them being kind to animals.

It's all about stopping the homosexuals over here, and baby killing abortionists, while their own kids rot on drugs, have babies with this or that guy or several different guys, grow up on welfare, or roam the streets at night smashing car windows, and they screw one another's best friend's girlfriend or boyfriend, and move from one trailer park to the next seedy apartment, purge and repeat, sucking beers and popping any pill they can get a doctor to prescribe.

I suppose it's too hard to resist the urge to bring a lost soul into each one's personal fold, a trophy to march into church with. I don't consider myself a lost soul. I won't be anybody's trophy.

So I told the old woman I'd be in touch. I hope to sneak out there after dark on a really really freezing night, too cold for an old woman to be out recruiting new church members, and catch those poor kittens then, to be fixed.

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