One male cat hails from Corvallis. That would be Simba. But his deep origins are the seed company south of Corvallis. I've gotten a lot of cats fixed at the seed warehouse itself and for people who took home kittens and cats from there. I've lost count now of all the seed company related cats I've taken in to be fixed. Lots! I'll just say.
This is Simba.Little Red was also fixed today. Little Red is a cute as a button orange tabby tux teen, who crawled into the car of someone dumpster diving on Knox Butte. She doesn't like cats and allegedly after she discovered him, she dumped him outside the rental of her old boyfriend.
I'd met her when she lived there. I'd gotten lots of cats fixed there before. She had brought in her own cat, a big gray male. When she moved out, after breaking up with her boyfriend, her mother took that poor gray male and dumped him out along the road somewhere. I found that out almost a year after it happened. It haunts me when I hear such horrible things. These dumpings and abandonments are commonplace around here. It's evil.
Little Red was fixed today.
Mr. Neighbor was fixed today also. Mr. Neighbor isn't owned by the man who asked me to get him fixed. He is owned next door, but the neighbor had permission to ask me to take him in. Mr. Neighbor spends all his time with the neighbor, the man who asked me to take him to be fixed, and is fed by this man, too. He's a beautiful vocal black adult male and because of diseases spread by fighting unfixed males, the neighbor probably saved Mr. Neighbor's life.
This is Mr. Neighbor, fixed today.The fourth male fixed today is just a kitten. I had been out very very early Wednesday morning, to the Crabtree colony, hoping to trap the one female left unfixed there--Lucy. Or even Esther, the one big male not yet fixed. I saw both cats but they were not hungry enough to enter a trap. However, Momma Brown, fixed a couple weeks ago, had had three kittens I had never seen and never expected to see. They were there yesterday morning, but only one came up on the porch, so I nabbed him.
Isn't he darling?They're supposed to be feeding in a tied open trap. I'm not so sure they're remembering to put food in it. But when I arrive, and I try to get there around 5:30 a.m., which is when she feeds them, I tie a fishline to the trap door, run it up through a planter hook on the porch awning, then out to my car, through the passenger window, where I tie it off to the headrest. I cut the line when an unfixed cat is eating in the trap. That's how I got Little Buster, the male tabby kitten, while seeing two other tabby kittens dart off through a hole in the fence.
It was freezing cold that morning. I'd overslept. My alarm beeped for an entire half hour before I suddenly jolted upright. Unfortunately, one cat or another was asleep on my face and tore off scared when I finally jolted awake, leaving three jagged claw marks on my cheek. I don't even know which cat it was.
The prime suspect: Miss Daisy. Her nails are seriously daggered out again and it's hell to trim her nails. Miss Daisy also likes to sleep across my face nights. She loves the heat source!
She's very dangerous looking!I still need to catch four cats out there. Lucy, Esther and two more kittens.
Last night, I further abused myself by trying to help with the nursing home colony. They were supposed to be hungry but they were eating a ton of food someone put out when I arrived. I tried to scoop it up with my hands. Things went downhill from there.
The two tame cats were all over the place, springing traps, playing with the drop trap string, climbing into my car when I wasn't watching and had left a door open while I set a trap. I finally put the male in a carrier in my car. HOwever, he was in outrage over such an indignity and yowled constantly and dug at the door until I let him out. Then he had to show off by racing up a tree. I mocked his weight problem, pointing out, very sarcastically, his unathletic build, and told him he'd never get out of that tree and not to expect help from me.
I was told the two tame cats now are not even provided a bed and not allowed inside most of the time. I was told the fire inspector informed them the outside cat bed was a fire hazard, at which point I nearly doubled over in laughter.
The six strays left there also played games with me. They were not hungry and I should have had the sense to leave. But I didn't.
Then the raccoons showed up. They like me. One is very very handsome and so fat he waddles uncomfortably. By that time, K had arrived and was equally frustrated that they had been fed.
Between the cats being already fed, the antics of the two tame cats, and the raccoon crowd, my attempts became a circus act. Wisely, I gave it up by 11:00 and came home, but not before listening to the coyotes howling and yipping not far away. I would love their wild and woolly howling, if I didn't know it meant death to other animals, like cats. I'd read on craigslist about a long hair calico missing nearby, let out very soon after a woman moved to a new place. She never came back. And a little rescue long hair dachsund, who scampered off and is missing, same area.
I hate reading about lost animals. Like those two dobermans missing from Berlin road out in Lebanon. That couple is trying so hard to find them and their most recent post on craigslist just tears my heart out. She is begging for information from anyone, who may have seen them, stolen them, shot them, whatever, because it's haunting her.
It haunts me too. I wish I could bring all the lost ones home, deliver them into the arms of their people.
So, four more cats fixed, at least. There's that and it's good news for cats everywhere.
The people over there, whom I helped a few weeks ago, getting more cats fixed, where Turtle lives, have not answered their door or phone for some time. I have someone who will take Turtle. I can't get ahold of them. Then I get a message from them today, saying I need to call them back, that there is a cat in dire straits over there, probably with rabies, she says, and that I need to call her immediately. I groan to myself but call back. And of course, no answer. OF COURSE!!!!
I leave a message nonetheless, knowing they won't return my call. I tell them that's a police matter, if they think a cat has rabies.
Her basis for thinking it had rabies was "it's foaming at the mouth". That well publicized rabies symptom merely means salivating excessively, which can also be caused by all sorts of illnesses and poisons, including insecticides, pesticides and flea treatments.
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