I let Tuna go early this morning.   I gave him another day and a half to eat a lot of food and sleep it off.   Early this morning, I just opened the garage door and the cage door and he was gone 15 minutes later.   He was fixed Tuesday.   

I have not caught Phantom yet, the escapee from my cat yard.   She has seen too many trapped in front of her face--both those big flamepoint boys.   It doesn't help that Gigi, (her given name is Butters) who is owned at the house behind me, although I don't think they take care of her at all anymore, chases other cats nor that Kujo, oops I mean Fritter, the buff boy abandoned by his shit owners at the apartment complex, does the same.

I am isolated here.  I see almost no one, day in, day out.   The depressing gray and moisture of January is heavy.  I can't see or feel spring yet, or even hope to ever see it, its so distant.

The block has changed with the influx of pickup people.   One guy lets his noisy smelly truck idle sometimes twenty minutes, until the block reeks of spent fuel exhaust.   The noise of his truck is bad, but the monster blue truck is the worst of the worst.  Sounds like a freight train coming and going.  I can't tell you how much I hate that truck.  The third problematic pickup is a visitor to the block frequently but doesn't belong here and that person drives it like the short half block is a race track.   That one is two tone and I don't know why its so often on the block.    

Pickups are working trucks, meant for people who need to carry loads.  The trucks on the block are used as single occupant commuter cars.  What a waste.  It's none of my business what people choose to drive, but I sure hate the noisy ones, that wake me up and drown out the tele just going by or smell up the air when left to idle.  There are two or three more pickups now, end of block, but those folks don't drive them like weapons, or use their noise and size to attract attention.

Jack, while tame to me, never tamed to other people so he's still here.  

Little Dragon is the most outgoing of the Waterloo teens and maybe one day will let me pet her.  She comes to play now, every day, interactively--wand toys.

I have several cats now nearing the end of their days.  Comet, Mooki, Soloman, Panda and Buffy are the most elderly now, along with Sam.  All of them are over 14 years of age.    This will be a sad year.

I have my first official spay neuter spots of the month on Monday, the only ones, outside of the spot I scored to get Tuna neutered.  Four spots.   I suppose I'll try for the last known dump at the park, a black tux male, left behind by a woman living in her car last summer.  He's likely quite wild by now.  I've only seen him twice. 

 I'll probably try for any of the last few at the RV park colony.   I never look forward to trapping there.  There's nowhere to park, really, along the narrow road, and I have to wade through that freezing ditch to set traps along the fenceline.  Most of the cats left there are fixed now.  16 to be exact have been caught and fixed, with four of those not returning.   I know of three more, but one of those, a large male I've only been shown a photo of, has not been seen since late summer.  But its hard to tell how many exactly are left needing fixed.   I'll do my best.

Crawdad, one of the kittens I trapped at the RV colony, went to a Salem friend to tame, then to a Salem area rescue to finish off the taming.  She's in a home now, renamed Muffin, and very well loved.

Muffin

Let's hope we survive these times.  Right now, we're trying to survive price hikes.  Everything from gas for the car to garbage bill has increased.  But especially food prices.

I don't mind the slow life.   It's 9 months of getting ready for the frantic two, or if lucky, three months where we get some sun and can enjoy the outdoors.  I get projects and cleaning done, stare at my kayak and dream, look forward to evenings with my cats reading in bed.    I could use some sunlight though for its cheery brightness and warmth.