Winter Hibernation Sounding Good

Have you ever just wanted to crawl into a hole and not come out til the sun does again?

That's how I'm feeling.  Dreary and old and awkward.

I did myself in last week trying to catch the mom of those kittens.  Then I find the trap closed middle of one night, only to discover nobody was in it.  I go in to ask the clerks if anyone has been back there and sure enough, she had just encountered a homeless man out back.   Shoot, I thought, did he spring it, digging around, or did he let the cat go.  It was one or the other probably.

I knew it was hopeless then.  So for now I;m just feeding her.  She has seen two of her litters trapped along with her two brothers.  What are the chances I'll ever get her?  And in the meantime, I was wearing myself down severely and not taming those four kittens, her latest.  They're leaving tomorrow.  I'm embarrassed they've been with me a week and I've had no time to tame them.

Along with that Miss Daisy crashed.   She was heaving for air, weak, and in the end, wouldn't eat.  She is my best friend whom I dearly love.  I really have no friends whom I see much anymore.  They've all moved or died or gotten ill with age or just have family they spend most time with.

So Miss Daisy has been my delight, the optimist who makes me laugh, who takes shit off no one.  In fact, she has to be anesthetized to be examined by a vet, which is a problem, if she cannot withstand anesthesia.  Her last visit in late spring early summer nearly killed her.  It was the anesthesia required to even get a blood draw.  She is not feral, but the most difficult cat to medicate or to give fluids.  I knew this would become a severe problem as she aged.

I began the horrible debate in my mind.  Should I take her in?  The final trip.  This was a devastating thought, not so much that she would die, but the horror she goes through just to be taken to a vet.  I didn't want to put her through such a violent frightening end.

So I stalled and began to give her fluids, which is not easy, even when she is weak.  She still twists and does backward rolls and screams and I can give fluids to ferals but I don't want to hurt my Miss Daisy.  So its hard for me.

I began feeding her bits of butter.  She wouldn't eat anything else and in the back of my mind I wondered if she was backed up which can cause pressure both on lungs and heart.  How do I know?  Yup.  Happens to me.

I gave her pain meds leftover from her last visit too.   I couldn't get them down her then but now I told myself I had to be the adult, buck up, all that.  I told myself as she twisted and fought the fluids, she will die if she doesn't get them.  I said it like a mantra.

Today, I got up early and went to feed the Circle K girl, then got ready to go to a Portland animal volunteer event.  I shouldn't have gone, I realize now, but it sounded like it might be fun.  Except I didn't know anyone who would be there, not very well anyhow.

I put my magnetic business sign on the side of my car before leaving.  I felt maybe it would help me somehow, make contacts or something.  I wanted to feel proud of what I do, and felt among other rescue types, I could be myself,  and I don't much feel that way around here.  Guess I feel nobody cares around here.   Or something.  I mostly keep to the shadows. I'm most comfortable out under the stars in the dark with the wild cats.  I've become shy over the years.  Too little human contact.  So much rejection. 

I drove up to Portland, parked my car and embarked on a animal volunteer appreciation cruise on the Portland Spirit. That was what the event was.  It was really for Portland area volunteers but I got a ticket through the FCCO.   A pet supply store hosted the whole thing which is extremely generous of them.  I've never been to the store and probably never will as it sounds kind of upscale for me.

Most of the groups there were tight knit and stuck together.  I felt out of place, alone and awkward, so I was aching to get off and get home very quickly.  Once I got off and went to my car, I immediately saw my magnetic sign was gone.

Holy crap, I thought.

I couldn't remember for sure if it was on the car when I got out, once in Portland, or not.  It's never fallen off the car before but I thought I suppose maybe it did.  More likely it was stolen.   I was very upset.  I tried not to be but my rough week cast a negative charge into my thoughts about the sign's disappearance.

I proceeded then to get lost trying to find the freeway to get home and drove endlessly.  I ended up in a massive traffic jam for 40 minutes too.  I cursed the car, being a stick shift and difficult to manage in such traffic.   Not long after that, suddenly, three engine codes came up on the dash.  Shoot.

I made it to the rest area on the freeway and pulled in.  I was going to reset the codes so they'd vanish from my sight at least, so I wouldn't worry about the car too as much, without them blaring in front of my eyes, but then I didn't.  I just sobbed.

I suppose it was more about Miss Daisy than anything else and being tired and wishing I had friends or family, anyone.

There was nothing I could do about whatever was going on with the car, so I just drove it home.

I get home and low and behold, Miss Daisy is on her feet, not laid out, and meowing loudly in greeting.   I am astonished and thrilled.  She wants wet food but eats little when I put some out.   I start cleaning litter boxes and find a huge poop that looks like Miss Daisy's.  This too thrills me and makes me surmise that maybe after all she was blocked and we may not have to keep that appointment.  .   My spirits soar in hope.

They're still soaring.  It's too soon really to tell.  I had an appointment made for her end of days.   I hope we don't have to keep it.

So today needs to be forgotten.   Tomorrow is a new day.

I suppose for the records, as I always do, I should post photos of four cats who went to be fixed last week.  Last Monday it was the final cat from the Hill street four.   Nala, another torti, now they're all fixed.

Nala, fixed last Monday

Bonita did go to my friends vet Tuesday but I got no information whatsoever really.  She decided not to adopt her and brought her back within 1 1/2 hours, told me her vet said she would need to be on ear and eye meds for life.  I tried to question her but she knew nothing and so it was a great disappointment.

Useless really.

Then on Wednesday, the final kitten, now a teen, from the Lebanon Sticks colony I mostly trapped in the summer, was fixed.  I called her Java and she went back out there to keep her mom company.  Her mom is fixed.  So is a big male.  Five other kittens I took out of there.  Done with that one too.

The sixth cat from that Sodaville road group was also fixed last Wednesday, a male, they call, for some reason, Sr. Junior.

Sr. Junior, fixed last Wednesday

Beaches, also fixed last Wednesday an Albany Queen street girl