Blackhawk, as I've dubbed the latest flea ridden, spray marking, fighting yard stray male, did the unthinkable. And the target of his outrageous act was Mr. Peeman himself, my Sam, the insecure boy of the house, who goes into a pee marking frenzy at the smell of an unfixed male.
Blackhawk goes up to the cat yard "window fence" and acts like he is going to sniff noses with the outraged Sam, then turns around and sprays him down. That was it for me, man. To watch that happen to Sam of all cats, who is so insecure about his "manhood". He goes bananas at the smell of an unfixed male. Poor Sam.
I love Sam.
I brought out the big guns, the drop trap, the tuna warmed with fresh catnip. I caught him quickly. What cat could resist that smell wafting out into the evening air?
The rain had stopped for a short time, too, giving me a window when bait could be smelled on the air and not washed from it, like it was meant to be.
Sam then sat in the garage run ground level "window" staring at Blackhawk in the trap, eyes smoldering in anger. How dare I bring that cat into his garage!
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| Blackhawk awaits neuter. |
Doesn't help I have a Lynx Point male from N. Albany in a cage in the garage already, waiting to be fixed Thursday.
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| Mikey, the Lynx Point from N. Albany, also awaits neuter. |
And Jake wanting in, or trying to slip in by me, to sleep in the garage. I don't know what is up with Jake, if he is owned or not, but he wants to be mine. He wants to live here. He eyes the cats in the runs and cat yard and he wants to be one of them.
Jake's fighting is getting less and less, over time since his neuter. Now he is free to have a life. But what life? Does he have anyone who cares about him? (other than me)
Electra is failing. She's 14 and feeling it and looking it. I don't think she'll be around too much longer. She's my little buddy and I hate seeing her start to fail. Vision, my 19 year old, on the other hand, is still thriving. Miss Daisy, at 11, has gotten much thinner in the last year, too.
Those three, plus Comet, are my original cats. All old kitties now. I do have other older cats. In fact, most of the cats here now would classify as seniors. Kind of scary, eh? Outside of three with chronic herpes--Shady, Brambles and Poppy, they're all very healthy. But even Poppy is seven now.
Brambles and Poppy are both in the "returned" club. Gone to a home but were returned. A lot of the cats here, including Miss Daisy, are in that club. Isn't it strange to think that many siblings of cats here, long adopted out, are also now dead? Mostly because their owners let them outside, and they were killed by either cars, dogs or predators. Just because people promise to keep a cat they are adopting inside doesn't mean they will. I'm glad I am no longer doing adoptions. I hated doing them.
The Albany bomber boy, the 17 year old who made bombs and was about to blow up his fellow West Albany high school students but was arrested first, lived with his mother on a very short street in Albany--Raymond Ct.. I got a bunch of cats fixed for a single mom on that little street a few years back. She had a son. The moment I heard the bomb boy lived on that street I thought of that and tried to find my records to find the exact house address. I was frantic that it had been that boy of that family and I didn't want it to be.
But then I gave that up and just used google maps street view. It wasn't that boy or that mother. Thank goodness. They were so kind to the stray cats I could not imagine that boy being involved.
The boy was arrested at his father's house (bomb boy's mom and dad were divorced or separated) on Violet street. I trapped Nemo and Starry there along Violet street, along with five or six others. It was so hot when I was trapping for those cats. The three kittens had giardia so badly I couldn't return them to die. Peko got a home. Nemo went to a home for three months but was returned and has never been the same. Nobody ever wanted Starry.
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| Nemo, from Albany Bomb Boy's father's street. |
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| Starry, Nemo's sister. |
The used bike I bought, that wasn't so great, is now at a bike shop in Corvallis. I figure I need exercise. Either it can be fixed or it can't and I needed to find out one way or the other. I felt like a sucker buying it, thinking it was ok, then finding out it wasn't. So off it went. It's not in good shape but they said they can fix it. The derailer is bent. The cables are a tangled mess and the brake cable needs replaced so the brakes can be adjusted. The front tire, and maybe wheel, need replaced. The pedal bearings need replaced or repacked. Etc. Etc. But the frame's good! There's that. I don't get it back for a week or so.
I'm excited, hoping it can be fixed so I can ride it.
But I'm not a road rider. I got all paranoid over riding on the road after a few encounters with cars and getting skinned up and bruised. Pavement is hard. Cars are deadly weapons. I'll stick to trails or bike paths.
So sure, my days as a cat wrangler are nearly over. Hard to accept. Change is hard but often it's good.
In honor of Memorial Day I was trying to come up with a list of my favorite war movies. Here are some of them: Apocalypse Now, Platoon, Empire of the Sun, Children of Huang Shi, The Hurt Locker, The Lost Battalion, Rescue Dawn. Saving Private Ryan, Shining Through, We Were Soldiers, Schindler's List, Defiance, Glory, The Great Escape, Boy in the Striped Pajamas, Windtalkers, The Big Red One, Miracle at St. Anna.....anyone want to suggest others?
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