He wasn’t eating for them but the minute I got him  home, he inhaled a bowl of food then begged to go outside. He has so many stitches in him but it is a joy to watch him move because he does so easily and I can see that although he is in pain- it isn’t like the pain he was in. I missed him more than I thought I would and he about flew across the lobby when he saw me sitting there waiting for them to bring him out. They have him on three different pain pills and an antibiotic and I bought him one of those Kong soft collars to keep him from biting at his leg. The trimline I had is a bit ruined after Quincy decided to try and rub it off his neck so long ago after his surgery. This kong collar is inflatable so it also works as a pretty good pillow but I am not going to put it on him until night before we go to bed. I’m just so glad he is home and he made it through all that pain and emerged with a smile and a wag of his tail.

But this is Elliott. You can see the road rash on one of his back legs but it seemed like every time I clicked the camera- he would move his other damaged leg out of sight. he is turning out to be a real sweetheart though.

He will get his leg amputated this morning. I know that over-all this is the best solution for him- but I am putting him in incredible short-term pain by deciding to do this. he is still dragging his now useless leg behind him. As I think I stated before, the vet left a sharp point of bone that is digging into Cooper’s muscle and making it hard for him to want to walk on that leg. The vet said he could smooth out the bone but he couldn’t guarantee that Coop would ever walk right again, which means that if it didn’t work, Coop would have to have yet another operation to remove the leg. I didn’t think that was quite fair.

Since this was a vet mistake, they are only charging us for the anesthesia. I just hope that Cooper will forgive me in the coming days for deciding to do this rotten thing to him.

They have flushed out his wounds, given him a shot of covenia and he will be neutered today. He  was extremely lucky as kitties go- he is a stranger to us, a new kitty at our sanctuary. He was full of fleas so they have dealt with that issue as well. He seems to be pretty calm until he is put into a cage no matter the size he goes ballistic.

The last time I was witness to a HBC it did not turn out well for the driver or the cat. The driver swerved to miss the kitty but hit it anyway and then hit a pole. The kitty did not make it in the swerve it was hit twice. 🙁 But Elliott used one of this lives up that’s for sure.

My next challenge before in is headed by this question: Do I save cats, or do I save a building? A few months ago, our one cat enclosure suffered damage in a storm and there is a hole in the roof. The enclosure is also not fully insulated and I did a quick tab and we are looking at a cost of about $1,900.00 to replace the roof- insulate the sucker all the way around and make it usable in all weather situations. I have about $900.00 left from the sale- which still brings us up short to do the repairs. Plus nothing left over to pay George to do all that hard work. I talked to a local home improvement center about this damage and brought in all the documents needed to prove we are a non-profit. They were kind enough to tell me I could get all supplies at their cost- but as of yet, they haven’t got back to me as to how much this cost would be.

So now with two new arrivals in need of TLC and meds, I am wondering if it would be better to just buy a large tarp and have George go up on the roof and cover the damage and wait until the money becomes available to fix the whole building? The manager suggested I take out a credit card for their center, but I don’t make any money- everything goes to the cats so that wouldn’t work. So I am conflicted. If I fix the building- it would easily house 15 cats with no problems- or I could keep it as storage which forces me to keep my population low because I have no room for newcomers.

Adding to this is that Cooper’s surgery did not go as planned and he still isn’t using his leg. He is scheduled to have his leg amputated on Monday. I was told they wouldn’t charge me full price because the vet didn’t see or find the sharp bone that is now poking a hole in my dog’s tissue, but I am sure there will be some charges. So again- do I save the animals- or the building?

And I watched it happen and darted out in traffic to scoop him up. He was shaken and his back leg is scraped up and he has road rash and is missing a few claws but he got lucky. he only got bumped by the car and rolled.

Right now, he is in our Introduction cage and I have scrubbed out his wounds, put flea treatment on him and will take him to the vet in the morning to get him checked out. He is eating- so that is a plus.

Don’t worry, this is strictly cat related! On the morning of the drive up- Coop and I left at 3:00 a.m. from home. I was getting a bit tired on the I-5 so I pulled into an exit called Quintas Corner. There was a 24 hour bakery/restaurant called Heaven on Earth. It was about 9:00 in the morning and I needed a power nap. It was also 90 degrees in the shade, and we needed the shade. I saw some awnings providing just that in the parking lot and parked underneath. I walked into the restaurant to see if it would be okay to park there for about a 45 minute power nap. They were very nice and said yes- they are known for their cinnamon rolls which were honestly the size of whole German chocolate cake! Oh my!

I went back to the truck to let Cooper out for a walk. There was another shut-down restaurant on the back of the property and a picnic area, so we went that way. The restaurant was sitting up on a high deck and looked like it had seen better days. In the  middle of the field there was this HUGE box. I wondered what it was so as we walked past it, I turned to look and saw it was a feral cat feeder draped in a tarp! There had to have been room for 7 bags of cat food in that feeder.

OK so now my cat radar is up and I looked around and sure enough- I began to see the kittens and there were a ton of them! None of them looking all that healthy. Cooper was ready to go back to the truck, so I put him up and returned to the feeder. I ducked my head under the deck and could see green eyes glowing at me because I had grabbed a flashlight. I lost count after 30! I had a can of food with me (who would have thought I would have cat food?) I opened it up and here they came. I spread the food on a rock, backed off and sat at the picnic table watching them gobble up the food. It made me so sad.  Someone was feeding all these babies but no one was spaying or neutering. Some of the brave ones after the feast climbed on the deck watching me carefully while others ducked into the fields blending in with the dry grasses. One little calico, I just wanted to scoop up and tell Coop he had lost his traveling cage for the duration- but none of them would let me close. I took some photos and then went inside to inquire about all the babies.

I was told the matriarch of the family “loves” kittens but won’t spay and neuter. There were only two adult cats on the property because it is so remotely located- a tuxedo mom and a black tom. All the kittens were “theirs” I did my best to convince the gentleman to reach out to the various organizations that could help reduce the population. He said they would have to catch them all first- and I told him that was the point. He just shrugged his shoulders and again said the lady loves kittens. I left the information for alley cat allies, and the feral cat coalition hoping it would prove helpful.

Walking back to the truck, I noticed the Tom.he was sitting under a tree looking mighty proud of himself. Then I saw the queen and she was hammered. She was skinny and walked funny- the look in her eyes when she saw me clearly said “Get me the hell out of here!” She was beat to hell and still young- about 3 I would guess. When her kittens grew up some of the mating will pass to them but I am sure she will be the first choice of the boys. I told her I was sorry, I had tried and suggested she run away from home. Maybe the next house she found would be spaying and neutering and her suffering would end.

Prior to my trip, the sanctuary accepted two more cats: a very young, sick mackerel tabby who we are calling Gracie and a old hammered tomcat (Himalayan mix) who we are calling Hamilton.

Both cats have been tested, vetted. Gracie has a wound on her belly and she has been spayed. Hamilton is no longer a grumpy tomcat. He is still at the vet’s because he was in really bad condition. Not only did he have multiple wounds from fights, but he had a severe flea allergy that morphed into a staph infection.

When I got the call on Gracie, I was told the man had a sickly Siamese Chocolate Point who had shown up at his door. He was feeding her but he already had 6 indoor kitties and didn’t want another. Because Siamese mixes are in great demand and move out of here quickly for adoption, I told him I would be right there.

I got to the home and he had her in a carrier. Guess what- no Siamese here- just a sweet mack tabby yowling at me. LOL I took her immediately to the vet and now she is prowling our home with the other kitties head-bumping us at every opportunity.

On the second call, the elderly woman was hysterical. She lived in the hunting grounds and sadly, the person is still hunting and hurting severely the cats getting more grotesque with his art at each victim. 🙁 She was sobbing about a cat that had shown off with half his face ripped off and his sides were gone? I calmed her down, asked her for her address- she lives a block away from where all the hurt is going on. I told her I would be right there and rushed out the door.

I get there and see a cat carrier on the porch. The woman had been standing at the side of the road waving wildly to all the cars who passed her. As I turned into the driveway, I was thinking that this is going to be bad and before even taking the cat to the vet, I would go to the police station and demand they find out who did this!

So, I go up on the porch and the woman is in the corner wringing just crying. Gently, I turned the carrier around and take a deep breath and look inside. I see this grumpy old tomcat glaring at me. His face wasn’t hanging off him- he looked like a scruffy tom. I saw a wound on his neck and when I asked the woman what she was talking about? She approached and pointed to him and said look by his ears! I did, I saw raw skin- not skinned skin- I saw a mountain of fleas on him but not much else. Thanking God that it wasn’t another victim. I took Hamilton to the vet.

Hamilton has been at the vet since we rescued him. he had old wounds all over his body- he has a severe flea allergy that morphed into a staph infection. They sedated him, clipped him, bathed him, re-flea treated him, neutered him. He was given a covinia shot, depo shot, cortisone shot and a pain shot. I didn’t take a picture of him but for those of you who have followed this blog for years- his condition under all that fur reminded me of Shell. Thankfully, other than being severely anemic and not quite looking like a cat yet- he doesn’t have her issues. He will be beautiful when he gets a few doses of our TLC and some groceries and the staph infection goes away.

Here is Hamilton. Mike said we should call him Hambone because he is so skinny. I don’t like naming cats after food- sits wrong with me.

I think Sweet Home is a little bit in hysteria about the hunter and it is making the case that cats should not be labeled by the law as pests or vermin. Which simply means in our town a chicken has more rights than a cat does. People are talking about it, some are scared, some are angry and it is all over social media here. The local news station interviewed one of the owner’s who lost her kitty to this madness. But thankfully, Hamilton was only a victim of a horde of hungry fleas and neglect.

I just need to get it off my heart and get past it all. Writing helps that process.

I am back from my trip and I wish I could say that my mother had an epiphany and we had a marvelous time and found closure over the past. But didn’t happen. When I got there she didn’t know who I was and that was the best time of the trip. But, when she came to her senses and realized I was there, her objective seemed to be hurling insults at me right and left some subtle, some not but all meant to hurt my heart. I wanted to get mad. I wanted to smack her- but I just held it all in so I guess you can say I am a wuss and she still scares the living hell out of me. I swallowed all the insults and when she found she couldn’t get me to fight back, she turned her insults on Mike! That was my final straw and when I got back to the motel that night, I told myself that I was leaving the next day early in the morning.

I took Cooper for an early morning swim and afterward went back to the motel packed and stopped at the facility to tell Mother goodbye. They tell me she has 6 months, but I have seen this look before- if she has 6 weeks I will be surprised. They had her up in a wheelchair in the lobby and I saw that mean line on her lips when she saw me. The look that I so remember trying to run from when I was a kid and she was hunting me. I knew I should have just turned around and left- but I didn’t. I sat next to her and told her I was leaving and this would be the final time she would see me. Her response was “There are a pair of shoes on the couch.” The day before, she had been babbling about wanting to go on the elevator- there was no elevator, and she kept seeing a sign that wasn’t there, so  I looked behind me and sure enough, some clever person had made 2 GIANT stuffed pillows to look like flip-flops. Cute and clever and I said as much.

Then she said “What size shoe do you wear now Mary Anne?” I told her size 13 and she replied “OMG! Your father didn’t even have feet that big!” I have been 6′ tall since junior high. The way she said it just set me off and I said “I guess that just makes me a freak then huh Mother?” She said Yes, Mary Anne you are a worthless freak.”

Ok- I had held all my anger in check, gone back to the motel and in the middle of the night suffered the circumstances of holding it all in by being sicker than a dog (sorry Coop). This time, I reminded her of a memory I had of her going shoe shopping with me when I was a teenager. She used to take us to Van’s Shoe Store and when we got there, she would tell the salesman- “Don’t bother bringing the shoes for Mary Anne, she will wear the boxes home!” When I told her this memory, I watched her smile GRRR! Then she laughed and said “Yes, they all thought that was so funny!” I stood up leaned over her wheelchair and looked her straight in the eyes and said : “Guess what Mother?” It WASN’T funny.” I turned to walk out of her life, and she grabbed my hand to stop me. I turned around hoping this was it- this was the moment she was going to apologize for beating the living chit out of me when I was growing up- and instead she said this: “Before you go Mary Anne- grab those two pillows you can wear them home!” I wanted so bad to call her an asshole. But I didn’t. I just walked out the door and out of her life forever.

Today, I thought I would be angry.  But I am not. I think if I had turned on her and demanded answers as to why she hates me (though I already know why) I would be still shaking inside and be sitting in that “hate” spot. I am not. I am finally at peace.

Here is the last photo I took of her and I will be surprised if she lives the week out. I used to work in convalescent homes many years ago as a private nurse to dying patients. I have seen this look countless times. She is days from death.

I told my older sister in an email, that I am certain I am going to go to heaven, because I have already lived in hell.

The only thing besides talking to God that kept me centered was finding a place called Bidwell Park where Cooper could swim. It was an extraordinary park 11 miles long with a warm creek that I could actually walk all the way across and not get the bottom of my shorts wet with holes deep enough that Cooper had to swim. We had two trout chasing his tail one day that was hysterical. One of them was nibbling his tail and he kept looking at them like “What am I? Fish bait?” We also saw a swimming rattlesnake- that was a bit scary. But they can’t strike when they are swimming and we got out of dodge fast! LOL

Here is the last photo of my mother and one of Coop swimming. He is not using his leg at all- I suspect they will be amputating it soon.

I will also say that I was blessed before I left with a donation large enough to cover all the vet costs!  When I gave my vet a check for $3,794.62 the look on his face was priceless! The donor wishes not to be thanked publicly or acknowledged in any way- although I did send him a personal thank you card. It validates- this gift what I do- and it shows me there are people in this world who do believe that I am not just a “worthless child.“

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