We ran out of dry and wet food yesterday. Unable to find any locally, I ordered what I needed. Took a chunk out of my budget, but it is what it is. This morning, I woke up to 35 degree temps! Heck of a time to run out of cat food. All pet beds outside have now been turned on. I looked at the overall temperature for later today and saw we will be in the 80’s! Crazy friggen weather-

I have not seen Misty now for over two weeks. I don’t know where she is or if she has gone to ground to heal or die? It is frustrating, but there are so many places here she can get into that I cannot. I need to buy a sims card and set up my trail cam to see if she is sneaking in late at night while I am asleep. I am lacing the wet cat food (that I ran out of last night) with L-Lysine and Slippery Elm Bark just in case she is still coming to get food.

We have a bad storm approaching on Friday and our first freeze warning. I hope they are wrong about the freeze warning- it’s way to early to have to deal with frost right now. But the weather here has been nuts, so who can tell what will really happen? Generally, we don’t have a freeze warning until after mid November.

A year ago, during the Holiday Fires, a mama cat gave birth to several kittens during the inferno. When the fire passed over  her- she laid on her newborns and gave her life to the flames, so that some of her babies could live. There were two survivors.

Left to themselves, hungry and I am sure terrified, they went in search of mom’s milk bar but only found ashes, soot, dirt, small pebbles to eat. When they finally came to our rescue, they were so hungry that even being so tiny, their growls for food were ferocious. First time pooping them, showed me the true horror of what they lived through. All that came out were ashes, gravel and dirt. They were so ill, they spent 48 days at the vet (total) not cumulative. When they got back into our rescue, I could see that they were changed. Magoo was scared of everything, and Ash, well she was very fearful of hands.

It’s been a long year’s journey for these two. They were adopted out (we were very forthcoming about all the issues these kittens were showing in their behaviors) but the people insisted they could handle it. Thirty days later, they were back. When I asked why the kittens were being returned, I was told “They pee in our shoes.” I had initially told the adopters that the kittens pee on and in soft things. I don’t lie to people when it comes to issues that kittens have. But, I guess it was just to much..

So I knew, they were here for Life and that we were going to be challenged in all directions concerning their PTSD symptoms and behaviors. Sadly, I was not wrong. But they (and we) have come a long way together, with a longer way to go. They live inside my home, I still rarely see them during the day, they will come out at night, but they won’t sleep on the bed. Magoo no longer hides underneath the bedding, and Ash has stopped trying to find a hiding place that is smaller than she is to hide in. But. she still will slap my hand away every time I try to pet her.

Here is a look back in pictures:

Misty does not have it in her to make it till Friday. All is set up for me to grab her tomorrow morning. I could have nabbed her about 30 minutes ago, but there was nothing in place to do so. Now, my gloves, dark blanket, and cat carrier are on the feeding platform. I was grateful to see this morning that not only is she still eating, but she is hissing to keep Crazy Eyes away from her.

As she gets weaker, he will really harm her. I cannot let that happen. The idea of a bare-handed snatch on a semi-feral cat was not appealing this morning to me. Had there been a cat carrier parked nearby, I would have chanced it. However, I cannot end up in the ER or the hospital with cat scratch fever, something I had years ago and almost lost the use of my right arm from it. With all the Covid restrictions here, there is no one waiting in the wings to care for the animals here. I have to do this with caution and some planning. Please pray that neither human or animal will be harmed in this endeavor. Thank you-

I hate to see my feral cats grow older. I know, the last years of their lives can be difficult because of the trauma they suffered before arriving here causes them to withdraw from all attempts of human comfort. They live on the fringe of feralness without the true aggression of a real feral. I tell people, they are strays with feral tendencies.

For my group, there seems to be a pattern that has emerged over the years. When a senior starts feeling bad, another will pair up with the sick one. That’s my first red flag. This is when, I try all my tricks and attempt to capture the cat, I know to be in danger of being sick. The two will sleep together for awhile, but when the sick one becomes even sicker, the relationship changes to a bad tone. The healthy one, will start mounting the sick one, or will steal the food (if he or she is still eating). They know, that the clowder has a weak member and is in danger. It’s their instinct and how they continue to survive.

They can’t do what a Queen does after she gives birth and discovers a sick kitten in her litter: which is cart them off in the mouth and leave them for a predator to find. So, they go from feral friend to predator. Some reading this may ask how do they know about the sickness. It’s a chemical change that happens. The sick ones emit an odor that is off-putting to the others (or to the Queen). They know that survival lies in getting rid of the weak one. It is survival of the fittest. The way of Nature. Unlike humans, animals do not kill without intention.

That is what is happening now with Misty and Crazy Eyes. This morning, when I went to feed, I was dismayed to find Crazy Eyes mounting Misty. Both are females (spayed). I clapped my hands to break them apart, then went to feed.. When I came back, Misty was lying in the same spot. (Crazy Eyes had scrambled when I clapped my  hands). I watched Mistyclosely. Her breathing was ragged and slow. However, when I tried to approach her, she slowly scooted under the deck and vanished.

With Misty, I have an added issue. She has been here now over 16 years. She paired up with Dash before Dash left us. She saw me scoop her buddy up and take her in the house, never to return. Cats remember trauma. that’s why some of them never overcome their early experiences with humans. Misty was owned by a demented elder who did horrible things to her as a kitten. But what she remembers most is the disappearance of Dash. Letting me close to her right now is not even in her program.

She’s still eating which is a good sign, but she has gone from being robustly healthy, to a scrawny, unkempt, sickly cat in a matter of a month. She “was” a beautiful, long-haired tuxedo kitty.I suspect either kidney issues or even cancer by the look of her. I know that with her, it will be a matter of her not even having the strength to move before I can really help her. This breaks my heart, because I can see that she is in pain, even though she is trying so hard to hide it. I don’t believe she has it in her to make it through another Winter. I hope I can capture her before Fall ends.

John Steinbeck once wrote: “The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry.”

He wrote this after he had plowed his field for an upcoming crop and sliced through a mouse nest with his plow. It also inspired him to write “Of Mice and Men.”

I felt that way this morning when I tried to initiate yet another trapping episode. I thought I had it all laid-out for success.

I still do need to trap two more black cats- Goblin and No-Name. Last night, I  again set up the trap before dusk in the back pasture. Goblin came out quickly. He all but danced his way around the trap without going in. So at 11;00 p.m.  I went out and tripped the trap as I  didn’t wish to capture any wild critter. The black kitten is not the other creature here who recently has given birth.

Got up at 4:00 a.m. and traipsed back to the trap. My intention was to put canned food in the trap (hopefully before the yellow jackets woke up). As I drew nearer to  where the trap was, my flashlight captured the most amazing, wonderful sight.

Mama Possum with six young ones clinging to her back was sniffing around the trap trying to find a way to get in and capture the dry food. When my light hit her, she froze (as did I). Normally, possums are pretty mellow creatures. I’ve been living among them for years- but not when they have babies. She was baring her teeth and preparing for a fight.

I backed off, opened the cans of food and just set them on the ground. Watching her closely, I backed away. When I was a safe distance away, I turned around to head back into the house. I looked back once, her and her babies were gone. Oh my gosh,  what a sweet sight to see wildlife surviving after all these devastating fires Oregon has suffered..

I returned a few minutes later with a tray full of food for her and her babies. Trapping will have to wait now. We have to many wildlife mothers here for me to feel good about setting anymore traps. Time for another plan which is just to gain the trust of these black beauties running around and capture them gently.

Last night, late, I caught the the kitty by the creek, but when I carried the trap into the barn and turned on the light, I realized she was no longer pregnant and her nipples were engorged with milk. So I released her and watched her streak back to the creek back to her babies.

In the morning, I constructed a rainproof covered area away from the creek (in the orchard) where I will feed her. There are a lot of bushes and shrubs she can hide in. I need to get her out of the creek area because if we do have a hard winter with a lot of rain, the creek will overflow.

I will have to gain her trust and stay to a rigid feeding schedule (5 times a day) so she can feed her babies. Speaking of feeding- THANK YOU to the person who sent us 30 cans of Fancy Feast. I is so much appreciated!

Now that I know she has dropped her kittens, I can only provide her with food and a secure place to eat so if I can gain her trust. If I can do that the right way, when they are ready to be weaned, she will bring them out to me so they can eat as well. I wish I had seen her earlier so I could of at least got her into an enclosure before the babies were born. So now, I know I will never find them until she wants me to see them.

Thank you again for the Fancy Feast- it will bring her better nutrition than Friskies canned food would.,

This morning, quite early, traps were checked and all were empty. The front yard black kitty has not taken any of the bait offered. But. we have yet another black kitty, she appears to be around the same age as Goblin and Streak except that she is pregnant- heavily so. I spotted her back by the creek this morning.

Goblin is getting more courageous. He will now sit on top of the woodpile as I approach with his food. He does not flee, but he is prone and ready to if I make a move toward him. For now, with not much rain in the forecast, I can feed him by the tunnel he’s made in the grass. But once the rain starts, he will have to find the courage to go inside one of the outbuildings to get fed. I am hopeful that when his courage reaches that point, I will be able to shut the doors of the enclosure and trap him that way. I suspect someone has unloaded these three (possibly more) black kitties on us as they are so hard to find homes for.

If anyone has a few dollars gathering dust lying around and would like to pop them into Paypal, we could sure use them for dry and canned cat food. We are almost out and money right now is on limited supply.

If you would rather send food, Fancy Feast canned and Purina Cat Chow or Purina Natural for the dry would be welcomed. Brook, (the black pregnant one by the creek) needs to be trapped immediately if not sooner. I have moved the traps to the back pastures and will set them up tonight.

At 2:00 a.m. this morning, I woke up to Magoo and Ashley both on the bed, frantically pawing at me. For both of them to be up there at the same time is quite rare. They are very sensitive and will alert me to any insect intruders or other prey that might be in the house. After examining the bedroom and finding nothing, I continued my patrol of the house.

In the living room, they were both pacing in front of the door, so I cautiously opened it up activating the motion detector lights in the yard. I heard Bentley growling, before I actually saw him. He was tucked under the ramp leading to the front door. His head was out and he was getting ready to attack whatever he felt was threatening to him.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see this black streak run out from  under the ramp and fly across the highway! Thank God at that moment there was no traffic. The way the creature moved, I knew it was a black cat. We already have Goblin living near the back pasture. I feed him by the creek daily. He’s getting a bit bolder, but will still flee and hide under the junk cars my neighbor parks on his back pastureland. I know this was not Goblin. This kitty was smaller and faster.

The fact that it is crossing a busy highway at night concerns me. Not many visitors from across the road live very long when they make such a hazardous journey. I think, for the time being, I will put Bentley in one of the enclosures at night and let him out in the morning. I would hate to have him dash across the highway in pursuit of this new kitty. Bent is my strongest Alpha.

I will put traps out tomorrow at dusk in the front yard and pray this new kitty will go into the trap overnight. I hope not to catch one of the baby coons (there are only two left out of the five) or God forbid one of momma skunks babies or the mom herself. It’s a gamble but not as big of a gamble as this kitty is taking, running across the highway to my home in search of food. Wish me luck-

A few days ago, I posted that I was considering surrendering my non-profit license and getting out of rescue. I have considered it, I have prayed about it, I am a maker of lists, so I wrote down the pros and cons. The pros outweighed the cons.

I do know that I was put on this path quite early in my life. I did not grow up holding baby dolls and feeding them empty bottles. I grew up bottle feeding baby kittens, lugging huge fluffy kitties around, and helping my Dad with any stray cat or kitten he happened to bring home.  I believe this path was chosen for me from God.

I cannot allow another man the power to take me off my path. It’s in my blood. Mike was fond of saying to his friends, that he knew if I died before him, he would see all these cats come pouring out of my ears. (I would laugh now, but at this point, that comment is bittersweet). I miss my husband terribly even after three years. I doubt that cats would come pouring out of my ears, but I do know that I have a parade of endless head-bumps waiting for me when God finally calls me home.

Until then, no matter how hard it gets, no matter that I have to often  pay for cat litter, food and vet costs from my own budget. No matter how rocky a path might be before me,  it will be a path I will walk until the end of my days.