Sunday, October 19, 2014

Some How

Some how I have to keep on.

These days it is hard.  I am too alone.  I look ahead and see nothing but the same--struggles to make it caring for these cats, to feed and clothe and house myself, keep the car running so I can get what I need and possibly escape this freeway sprawled suburb town now and then.

I have the phone now, at least its there, ready, and it was fun at first, but its in the drawer with the others, because I still don't get any calls.  The little plastic phone I couldn't even see, it was so tiny, would have been just fine for this person, me, whom no one calls.  Ah well....

I still try to find Slinko a home.  He would benefit from getting into a good home.  No luck there either.   Sometimes I wonder if I just think I'm alive, because I travel my world like a ghost unseen.

The experience with the neighbor knocked the wind from my sails.  Any thought I had of being liked or respected on this block vanished after that.  I knew she thought I was an idiot and sometimes tried to take advantage of me for sport, but the magnitude of the last episode, well I haven't recovered.  I avoid her like the plague now.

As for the cats, I need to figure out a product to make and somehow sell, to support them.  I don't get donations anymore, except from a handful of people who, it seems, will never stop helping me care for the cats here, if they are able.  I have an obligation to them, also, to try to find a way to keep going, something I can make to sell.

But what?  What would people buy from me?  I'm not crafty.  This website is not popular, in fact, it's barely rarely read and so would be unsuitable as a means to market a product should I come up with one.  I'll keep trying to come up with an idea for something, then a way  to sell it.  I have to.

I lay awake at night trying to think of something I could sell, make or a business to start that would support the cats.  Or how I would begin without money to begin with.

I walked three miles two days ago and found just one can.  Canning will not be my answer.   Or much help.  Everyone is poor around here and so many people search for cans.

However, an Albany business did donate their cans two weeks ago, which I returned and the total came to just under $23, with which I bought a 25 pound bag of dry cat food.  That's amazing that their cans will feed five cats here for a month.  I was very pleased and happy.

I have two Reel Mowers I am trying to sell.  They don't go for much new, but I hope to sell them.  Wrong time of year maybe, have not had one response.  But it costs nothing to keep the ad going.

Today, Heartland takes Viktor.  He will be devastated. He's weary of being just in my bathroom and now he will be locked in a small cage.  I feel very guilty and conflicted over this.    But maybe he will get a good home soon.  There are so few good homes out there, makes me hang my head to think I will need to delude myself to hope the best for him.

When I took in Viktor, and the other two cats, from the rabbit hoarders, the officer who asked me to take them in, told me there were rabbits again in the rabbit hoarders garage.  She was aghast and told me they were told they all had to be gone by that Wednesday, including the cats and the dogs.  They'd already removed 200 rabbits and Guinea Pigs.

But when I picked up the cats, I asked how things were going for them, and one of them at the house said lots of her friends had gone to adopt their rabbits, after Safehaven took in the 200 and immediately adopted them out, super cheap and unfixed.

Although the woman said nothing else, given there were rabbits back in the garage, I wondered immediately if those were not some of the same rabbits, previously removed, adopted out fast and furious and almost free and unfixed, and maybe adopted to the rabbit hoarders friends who just handed them right back over to the rabbit hoarder.  I wondered that first thing and I still do wonder that.

I still have anger that the cats were left there to suffer.  Poor Missy, with mouth and throat cancer, unable to eat without pain, and poor Bootsy, with that horrific awful staff infection all over him.  Only Vicktor seemed somewhat healthy of all things alive there.  Allegedly there were three dogs there too, ordered to be gone also by last Wednesday.  I never saw even one dog.

Viktor plays!




Well, today is the last day with any sun forecast for at least a week so I'm going to take a walk again.  Will take my can bag just in case.  Wish me luck.  Thank you.

Friday, October 17, 2014

Cat Fishing with Viktor

I have no defense of this video except I am bored and I think its darn cute. Viktor surprised me. Man alive, can he ever jump!

Tuesday, October 14, 2014

Tremendous Kitty Viktor

Viktor is awesome and soon will be at Heartland Humane in Corvallis and up for adoption!

Monday, October 13, 2014

R.I.P Missy

Missy, the skinny little gray torti I worried so over for months, watching her deteriorate and wobble when she walked, by the rabbit hoarders house, has died.  She was euthanized at Heartland after they found mouth and throat tumors consistent with cancer, large and painful, I was told, when I gave the permission.

She was not underfed.  She had cancer so painful she couldn't eat.

Rest in Peace, little gray girl.

I wanted to save her, to help her into a wonderful loved life.

Some things you can't fix.  I'd never seen anything like that drool discoloration around her mouth and on her nose, however.  She drooled constantly, from the tumors.

Sorry little girl.

Victor and Bootsy, now Mr. Marvelous, are now Heartland cats officially although I brought Victor back with me to foster here til they have the room for him, which won't be long.

Bootsy went home with a Heartland volunteer.  He has a staff infection in his skin, from scratching at himself with dirty claws, due to fleas and severe ear mites.  He would not have lived much longer, but now he has a chance to be remade.  He's a wonderful sweet boy and I hope, once he heals, which might take a couple months, that he gets the best home ever and lives a joyful life.

And that is that.

Heartland did not charge me a dime, which caused me to walk out of there crying.  Thank you, Heartland.

Sunday, October 12, 2014

The Rabbit Hoarders Cats

How beautiful was Boots, just a teen, in December of 2012, when I took him to be fixed, along with his two siblings.  Now he is weak from parasites and his ears and face are crusted and his body erupted in rashes.

Do you recall, back in late July, the Albany police raided a home down on Marian and removed 200 rabbits and Guinea Pigs?  They all went to Safehaven and I was horrified to see the people's cats were left behind, to remain at that house.  Only a couple weeks or so prior to that I swung by with a friend and we asked those people why their cats looked in such bad shape.  News reports showed the cats and the horrible state they were in.  Reporters commented and asked why they'd been left while the rabbits were taken.  In the weeks which have followed I've called the police twice about those cats.  One time I was asking why they were not removed and the second was to ask for a welfare check on the cats since the muted torti girl looked about to collapse.

Today the police knocked on my door.  The rabbit hoarders had not been supposed to keep any animals, I was told, not the rabbits, not the dogs and not the cats.  They have until this coming Wednesday to find a safe place for the cats to go.  Safehaven took the rabbits but apparently couldn't or wouldn't take the cats.  I don't know if this is true, just was told that.  This is the dilemma of all cats in this county who find themselves in trouble.  There's nowhere they can go.

The police came here, hoping I would help the cats, fearful with the deadline looming, that the cats would end up dumped somewhere.

I could not refuse them.  But I also know I can't keep more here and would not be able to undertake this alone.  I immediately called Heartland to ask if they might help.  That was before I even went over there.  They said they would if they could, but I wasn't talking to a person with enough clout to know for sure.

I met Boots, the soft orange kitty in the above photo two years ago when he was a teen, and I took three teens, him being one of them, from that house to be fixed, back in December of 2012.   His siblings now live in Corvallis somewhere, with the rabbit hoarders daughter.

The other two cats at the rabbit house, the gray muted torti and the big black tux, with the right ear hematoma, I don't know or don't remember because I got told this evening I took one of them, the male, to be fixed years ago.   I got cats fixed for these folks before I took the three teen boys to be neutered, indirectly.

I was helping a woman with cats she fed around her place.  That woman had a backyard shed full of Guinea Pigs she was breeding.  The rabbit hoarders then bred Guinea Pigs too, and they knew one another, as fellow GP breeders I guess.  So the first woman brought me the second woman's three cats to take to be fixed too. One of those cats was Victor, the black tux they still have.  They told me that today.  That first woman moved to Coos Bay and started S/nipped, a spay neuter clinic, and I assume no longer breeds Guinea Pigs.  People change.  And some people really really change.

In the meantime, I went and picked up two of the cats, including Boots, whose crusty ears and face might or might not be ringworm.  Probably is, with my luck, which means he'll be here awhile since nobody wants to touch that.   I no longer have a black light to check for sure.  Mine broke.  I'm hoping Heartland can at least do the Woods Lamp scan, outside if need be, to keep the shelter free of the spores, if that's what it is.  Wouldn't surprise me any.  But it could also be severe flea dermatitis going on, or bacterial skin infection, FIV, or any one of a number of things.

Missy, the muted torti, drools and likely has tooth resorption going on.   She's supposedly spayed, and the people think that because she showed up five years ago and there have not been any kittens.

Later I went back and picked up the third cat, Victor, whom, I am told, is one of the cats I took to be fixed through the other woman, before she moved to Coos Bay.  That would have been close to seven years ago then and it was probably done at Countryside.  I'll have records.  Maybe even his photo from seven years ago.  Victor looks healthier than the other two, that's for sure, outside of a severely deformed, via hematoma, right ear, which only gives him character.  He looks somewhat like Funny Face too, which makes me smile.

Boots no longer looks gorgeous and innocent like he does in the photo above, when he was so young and at that point, cared for.

He's two years old now, and looks 8 and tired too.

Missy, the muted torti.  You can see she has ear mite issues.  Look at the darker hair atop her nose and below it down to her chin.  I am not sure if that is natural or not.  Thinking the latter, thinking ringworm with hair regrowth, maybe, or drool and nasal drainage stains. But, she is also dark eye lined and if you look, she has a dark line running along her gums on her lower jaw.  She just may be uniquely colored.

Missy can be seen at 1:38 in the yard, in this KGW news report when the rabbits were removed.

The reporter was quite concerned about her health then.  After looking up this report online, to compare her to now, I don't think she had the dark staining above her nose and below it and on her chin. That's happened since then?  If any of you click that link and see the video story at KGW on the rabbits, and see Missy, the cat, see what you think, if she had the dark stains around her mouth, and under her nose then.  Say what you think in the comments.  Thanks!

The above two photos are of Victor, the third cat, and looks like he came from a different planet than the other two.  He's fat and appears healthy, by comparison.  He is allegedly about 8 or 9.  Guess I got him fixed about seven years ago, maybe seven and a half years ago. I know he visits my yard, because I still confuse him and Funny Face.   He didn't hang out much with the other two.  His brother whom I took to be fixed also years ago was fairly recently hit and killed on Marian street, they told me.   Victor is a handsome sweet cat and that curled crunched hematoma ear only makes him more adorable.  He is outgoing, but not aggressive.  He's fantastic!

Heartland will check all three over tomorrow.  I think that might cost $120.  Two are already long fixed thanks to Poppa Inc. and me.  How will I pay?  I don't know.  I'm not thinking, am I?  Just with my heart.  Hoping it works out in the end.

I'm not sure who will take the lead with these three, am hoping Heartland, but probably that won't happen if they've got ringworm.  I hope its not me, because nobody is going to donate to help I doubt, not to me.  They would if it was a big group.  Safehaven got lots of community support with those rabbits.  Those rabbits were put up for adoption the very next day.  These cats, at least two of them, have health issues that might take a few months to resolve.  That's not so glamorous, is it?

So Long Summer

I said goodbye to summer a month ago.  Then it came roaring back, with some fall issues attached.

Now the news said enjoy your last day of niceties, because the rain will be here to stay tomorrow.  Ok.  If you say so.

Foggy this morning.  Fog means sun once it burns through.  Unless you live on the coast.  The fog can last all winter, when its not raining or windy.

I used to live on the coast.  I grew up on the coast of Oregon.  I thought 72 degrees was a heat wave back then.  Now 72 degrees doesn't cut the mustard.  72 degrees feels like winter coming now that I live in the valley.

We did all the wrong things as kids, I can see now, according to the news and the safety police.  We dared the waves to knock us off the end of the jetty in a big storm.  It was Oregon sport to clamor out to the jetty ends and lean forward in the wind with our arms straight out and let the waves slam us.

We made rafts out of driftwood.  I remember when the tidal current took us once.  Towards the open sea.  The raft we'd built was sound, but our parents screamed from the beach to jump and swim.  My older brother was the last to do so.  They yelled at him to take off his jacket.  I still remember he didn't do that and his awkward leap into the estuary current and my heart pounding for him.  I remember that gold jacket.  He was a good swimmer and made it easily to shore.

We dammed up creeks running through the sand to the sea.  We dug deep holes and buried each other.  We put messages in bottles and threw them as far out as we could trying to get them beyond the waves to give them a better chance to head off to countries and peoples unknown to us, in the days before computers and google maps.

We beach combed for agates and petrified wood and entire, not broken, sand dollars and Japanese glass fishing floats.

We made whips of washed up kelp and drug them behind us, leaving snake like trails in the sand on the beaches we walked barefoot.

I haven't been to the coast in a long long time.  Unless you count the two trips to Astoria, to the affordable clinic, with cats needing dental work.  I was too tired on both trips to be anything more than barely functional.  Too tired to enjoy anything more than a good nap in the sand.

When I used to take cats clear down to the Coos Bay clinic, sometimes I'd spend the day at Sunset Bay beach.  But mostly there too I simply slept on the sand, exhausted from the roundup and the drive and the drive to come back home the same day.

I'd like to go again, to the beach.  I remember going years back, and cresting the Coast Range, headed down, car windows open and feeling a surge of excitement the moment the air smell turned to salt and sea.

It doesn't seem right if its sunny on the beach in Oregon.   It's windy, that's how it is.  My skin grew up scrubbed red by blowing sand.  Or its fog so thick we called it pea soup.  You extend your arm and your hand vanishes.  Like that. Or it's storming and we liked that best.  Lots of Oregonians head for the beach when the big storms come through, to be part of it.  That's how we are. It's in us to do that.  Denying it is no good.

So today they say is the end of all things summer.  Tomorrow begins the long gray.   Shall I take off for the beach?

There it likely is sopped in and foggy for the day.  The distant fog horns will moan and mingle with cries from circling gulls in air dense with water and salt and history.

The Maple is turning.

Funny Face showed up this morning, begged wet food, which I gave him, and hissed at me, which is normal.  He must be ok.

Shady is doing well after dental surgery but still a little tired.

Thursday, October 09, 2014

Shady's Bad Day

Any good day can go south and turn bad.

Yesterday, Shady's day was already sour.

Sunday I noticed her out of the corner of my eye.  Her mouth was open and she was pawing wildly at one side of her mouth.  I stared, incredulous.  One fang was hanging  low like a vampire.  Yikes!

So I watched her, that evening and the next morning before I headed up to search for the lost dog.  Before I left, I called the vet who pulled Starr's bad teeth a couple weeks back and made the dreaded appointment.  This vet clinic is far more affordable than any I've used in the valley.  The "I'm going to die" price factor isn't there.  Sure, it's still expensive, but not hundreds upon hundreds to take a cat in to have a few teeth pulled.

I rose early yesterday, to watch the lunar eclipse.  So the night before, I was in bed by 8:00 p.m.  Instead of confining Shady, I removed all food for all cats.  I'd rather do that than listen to her howl all night, which my drama queen would have done.

Breathtaking Eclipse!
Afterwards, I confined Shady to the spare bedroom and later quickly put her into a carrier.  She began wailing.  She is good at wailing.  I tried to console her on the drive to the clinic, which takes 20 minutes.

By 10:30, the vet had already called to say she was waking up, and she'd pulled five teeth including the canine.  I would not be able to pick her up until close to 4:00 however.  Shady has only three teeth left.  The others have fallen out on their own. 

All afternoon I worked angles trying to raise money for the nonprofit to help pay for Shady's care and food and litter, flea treatment, all that. It's not cheap for all these cats.  The only donation I'd come up with was a car load of cans, donated by a local business.   I was so grateful  I thought I'd cry.  I picked them up and turned them in at Walmart, plugging them into the noisy sticky machines one by one.  Turned out to be almost $22 worth of cans!    

I am very grateful that a business would donate their cans.   

I picked Shady up and drove her home.  About three quarters of the way home she began wailing again.  Her wails start sad and poignant and drawn out, but harmonic and woeful.   Soon, they progress, upturning at the end, to a scream so full of such horror and desperation that it turns heads and people react, like something innocent is getting harmed.  I rolled up the windows.  

Once home Shady panicked in the bathroom, still loopy and wobbly from anesthesia.  I sat on the toilet and held her stroking her slowly, whispering to her softly and slowly.  She calmed.  I laid her down on some soft blankets, and tiptoed out.    I gave her the prescribed pain treatment last night.  

This morning, I was not careful and Miss Daisy was at my feet as I slipped into the bathroom and Shady was out like a bullet winding through my feet at the speed of light.  She didn't go far, turned and wailed at me, then danced lightly towards the food bowl.  I got a can out, of wet food, popped the lid and pulled it open, then jogged the whole can onto the plate by Shady.  She ate a bit, mouthing the food awkwardly around the sore spots where teeth had come out, but she was happy.  Now she's out dozing in the sun in a cat run.

Today should be a better day for Shady.  She's such a joyful funny cat, full of mischief.  She's one of my younger cats but already seven years old.

Well, today I better figure out better ways to raise money for the nonprofit.   Amongst other things!  The sun is out once again.  Indian summer in Oregon.