Sweet Patch who just wants to be loved by someone and who was abandoned by her previous family in favor of a laberdoodle puppy now has a new home. I had a bit of reservations when I went inside this home- to say it is cluttered is putting it mildly- but they have so much love (and no other pets) in the home. It is organized clutter- not dirty clutter but the eight year old boy sat quietly on the floor and allowed Patch to come to him and sniff him out. I was praying throughout the entire visit (I was there two hours) but the love just overflowed and the mother confessed that recently she has been diagnosed with a disease that is taking her eyesight gradually. She uses the paths for a purpose to get around the house. I told Mike when I got home, that in the past, I have put cats into clean, immaculate homes and then been sorry for it later; Fog who died when the little boy decided to abuse him after his parents went to bed- and one woman who allowed Tumbles to live underneath the bed for over a week “forgetting” to feed him- so a clean house doesn’t always mean the best place for a cat to be.

When I left, Patch was curled up in Brianna’s lap purring away. Patch is a sweet torbie who came to us about three months ago as an owner-surrender.

I am also turning down so many bottle babies daily. I stand firm at not bringing the newborns here because of the panleuk we had last year. But it kills me not to be able to help these people who don’t know what to do with the kittens they are finding. So this morning, I put a carefully worded ad on CL asking for qualified bottle baby feeders and I immediately got a huge response! I will be meeting with these people in the next week and if they qualify, I will put them on a list and start bringing the bottle babies to them. One woman has been fostering bottle babies over 50 years and I got such a giggle over how excited she was to meet with me on Saturday so she can “help the wee ones out.” She has a Scottish accent and I found her delightful. They must provide two references and a current vet that they work with- otherwise it’s not going to happen. I am amazed at the responses that came in so quickly and the people are all local which helps a lot.

Mike was helping me early this morning to lift a bin of cat food and now he has a huge hemotoma on his chest (the size of Texas) 🙁 I was trying to do most of the lifting, but he just picked it up before I was ready and hugged it to his chest and now he is suffering and I feel so bad. We go to Portland tomorrow so the doctors can take a look at it and make sure nothing major was bruised besides his skin. Poor Mike- his life is not how it used to be. But his kitty Taylor- she stays right by his side and offers him such comfort. It was 98 degrees today and when I came inside, I saw he was wrapped up in a blanket! I asked him if he was okay and he said “I’m hot, but Taylor wanted the blanket!” LOL

I posted something earlier this morning, but for the sake of the security of my cats, I have deleted it. I’ve had enough trouble in the past with people who do wrong by their cats making my cats their target. So after discussing it with Mike, I decided to just do what needs to be done behind the scenes and not make it public knowledge. Everything I do is for the cats and if someone doesn’t understand that, it’s their problem not mine.

It made me cry but then I am a softie when it comes to all things CATS!

Hug of the Century

He was maybe two years old. I got the call about an hour ago about a half-dead cat found in a yard. I rushed over to find this black cat in dire straits. Emaciated, dehydrated, crawling with bugs, abscessed wounds on the body, his tongue kept flicking in and out as if he was so thirsty he couldn’t stand it. He refused the syringed water I gave him (to weak) I bundled him up and called my feline specialist but he died enroute. His ears were torn, his eyes matted shut, his fur matted- poor kitty deserved so much better than he got. I laid him in the forest and covered him with ferns. I know he is in a better place- I just wish he had been found sooner.

This morning, I removed Fiona’s food bowl from the upper ramp and packed it away. It was made specially for her from a talented artist friend of mine when she learned that Fiona had come out on top of a pit bull attack. It is pink and yellow and proclaims “Warrior Princess.” Her pawprints are on our bulletin board and her memory remains strong in our hearts. She was an amazing calico girl whose life was cut way to short for our liking- but the reality is, most cat owners feel that way about the beloved cats who have passed on. They never live as long as we want them to or need them to.

Darcie will be spayed on Monday. The other kittens are still to skittish for me to touch, although we are getting closer to first contact with two of them. I see three new black cats in our yard now. I don’t know where they came from and just pray they are neutered. All three are skinny as the dickens and they slink around the buildings hiding at any sound they hear. They look like adults but until I trap them, I won’t know for sure.

Mike got home late yesterday. He has a big list of what he can’t do and his blood will be monitored locally three times a week. Wayfarin is a pretty nasty drug regarding side effects. I have a long list of foods he can’t eat while on this medication. He is so bruised up- he looks like a domestic abuse victim. Taylor missed him so much. She had been sleeping with me in his absence, but now, I am once again chopped liver and he is the apple of her eye. She won’t let him out of her sight at the moment.

Yesterday, I drove up to see Mike and didn’t get home until late. Instead of feeding the outside kitties, I fell asleep on the couch (my granddaughter would say “My Bad!”) This morning when I went out to feed, Blake and Sawyer were fighting among themselves which is odd because they get along just fine, and it is just the two of them alone in that huge stall enclosure. They heard me pop the can of cat food open and they just went for each other. Thank God they don’t have teeth at least not much to speak of. I guess all those years of neglect living with Karen is triggered by missed meals and I won’t do that again. They have dry food and plenty of it, the problem is they can’t eat it easily because of their mouth issues. I had been scaling back their wet food as we are running out of canned cat food fairly quickly. Lots of dry, just no canned. But they pretty much told me this isn’t acceptable for them. Putting liquid on the dry food doesn’t appease them and it just sits and gets soggy and full of ick when it sits for a few hours.

They both got the last two cans of wet food along with my apologies for my not showing up during feeding time last night. I have a few cans of tuna on the shelf- guess that will have to do for tomorrow. Cats, gotta love em!

Got a call this morning about a family of kittens found in an old shed. The woman was so excited, said they were so cute, the size of newborn mice but momma was hissing and spitting and wouldn’t let her near them. Hmmm I wonder why? 🙂 I told her to just leave them alone, block the mom in the shed, start feeding mom about 5 times a day different things including kitten chow and cat milk and provide her with several litterpans since she won’t be getting out. They are going to block up the shed with some trellis they have on hand so they can give the cats air- and the way she was talking, I suspect she has already fallen in love with this unexpected family. I told her I would help her to socialize the mom but I couldn’t take the family right now. I did tell her to stay away from the new mom (a tortie) they are very tempermental and she could be nailed if she isn’t careful. I told her you can get nailed IF you are careful!

Yesterday, as I drove to Portland to see Mike at the hospital, I went through the small town of Stayton. If you blink, you would miss this quaint town on the road, which would be a shame because of the Victorian houses that dot the town. As I drove past their vet clinic, I saw a sign on their billboard on the lawn. “Stay Calm, Just Love Your Animals.” That’s it- that’s all it said but it spoke volumes to me after witnessing for so long what someone’s rage can do to an animal. Someone who can’t get it together enough to pass on compassion and understanding to the innocent animal or human in their path. Someone so caught up in their own misery, self-pity-self loathing, whatever demons they battle- instead of seeking professional help they whale on their animals (or their children or spouse). A simple message, but quite profound brought about perhaps because the local paper recently carried a story about a 53 year old man who “lost it” when his brother’s pit bull who was eating out of his bowl nipped his dog who tried to steal the food. So enraged, this man lifted this pit high in the air and smashed it against the wall breaking the hips and the neck in one blow. And for what? Because the dogs were following the pack order and defending their territory and food? The saddest part is the other dog didn’t even bleed from the nip. It was a warning.

This morning, when I stepped outside at 5:00 a.m. and the cats came running to greet me, I made it a special point to greet each one in turn (generally I am petting two to three at a time). Those who tolerate it were picked up and given a big hug and I told each one in turn how grateful I am to be blessed by their presence. Stalker, a big gray and white male has decided I must be okay because now he will lay in front of my path and roll over and over in the dirt until I pet him. He is the one we hauled out of a hoarder’s home in a bedroom where a hazmat suit would have been necessary to have just to live in it. I remember tipping over the mattress (that was sitting on bricks on the floor) and seeing this terrified cat staring at me wondering what was going to happen next. Before he could even react, Kim and I swooped in, scruffed him gently and placed him in a carrier to take him out of hell. Now, he is a strapping, beautiful boy who is shy from people except for myself and one of my other volunteers Kyle. He takes his refuge in the blackberry bushes when he feels threatened. They are all so beautiful and I worry about each and every one of them in turn. Every day brings a new challenge of how to meet their needs on all levels.

At the hospital yesterday one of the volunteers was asking me how come I rescue cats? Apparently she only loves dogs. She said she just didn’t understand how I could “waste my time not have a career” over something as “common as a cat.” I just smiled and told her with this type of attitude, she is losing out on a relationship with a wonderful animal who is resilient, forgiving and accepting of all our faults no matter what. She just looked at me as if I came from another planet. She’s young though and hopefully one day will meet a cat who will change her mind.

The house seems so empty today. I have so much to do and all I want to do is have a Mary Anne Day and sleep and relax and do nothing at all. Guess it’s not in my DNA or something, because I’ve already mentally been rearranging the back patio so the cats will be more comfortable come wintertime.

I got tough with Girlcat’s owner the other day. The deal was I was only to board her for 30 days and 30 days is long past. GC has resorted to once tearing her fur out of her tail so I have put her back on Shriener’s to help heal the wounds. She just wants to go home. Her owner tells me now that it will be 2-3 weeks more before she can come and pick her up. She has contributed nothing towards the care of this beautiful cross-eyed mackerel tabby and when I mentioned that, she promised a big donation. Right- color me skeptical. Been there done this to many times to take people’s words to heart anymore. I would rather accept the gentle hug of Girlcat around my neck and her purring in my ear as a show of gratitude. Animals carry no pretense, that’s why I love them so much.

This morning, the hospital called to say they were discharging Mike! I left the house at 7:00 and got to the hospital by 10:00. I had to laugh as I drove up, there were three window washers washing the windows of the children’s hospital. They were way up in the air and when I looked up at them, I did a double take. They were dressed as super heroes! Batman, Iron Man and Spiderman! What a cool thing for the sick kids to see out their windows.

I get to Mike’s room and we wait and wait and wait. Finally at 4:00 one of the vascular surgeons came in and told us that Mike couldn’t go anywhere. They had done an ultrasound of his leg late last night and they discovered a massive blood clot. It started at his ankle, went over his knee and was creeping up to his thigh! He will be on heavy meds and constant monitoring for at least two weeks.

I drove home to find my message machine blinking. The vet called and told me that Boo passed away this morning about 11:00. Apparently, she had a heart attack.

I am so sad for this blackness. She had no chance of a real life until she got into our sanctuary and I could only give her 6 months of love. I just hope it was enough for her to understand that love does exist.

Boo is staying overnight from her surgery. She didn’t come out of the anesthesia as quick as they would have liked her to- so they want to keep an eye on her just to be safe.