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.

“There’s not much being written these days regarding Stomatitis,” my vet explained to me on Thursday in his treatment room over Bentley’s pain-filled meows.

“I like to attend as many meetings as I can during the year,” Dr. Steve said.”But when the topic is Stomatitis the room is packed. It’s standing room only. The frustrating aspect of these meetings is we leave  with  no more knowledge than we had before.”

At this juncture, Bentley’s cries have settled. He has been given a pain shot, a covinia shot, and a steriod shot. I asked my vet if he learned anything after the lectures, when he mingled with other veterinarians who were as frustrated as he was?

“Not really, There may be some new medication on the horizon or a mixture of two drugs that hold the disease at bay, but it’s all a Hail Mary and this point.”

I am very well acquainted with stomatitis. Bentley (my one survivor of distemper over 11 years ago) had a whopping case of calicivirus when he was a kitten. The one belief about stomatitis is that it is tied to this virus somehow.

Bentley’s mouth cycles in and out of stomatitis. I can look for major flare-ups in the summer during hot weather, and at the end of December. His last steriod shot was late December last year.

He drools, refuses to eat, drops weight at an abnormal rate of speed. If the discharge is heavy, he can lose his meow after he sounds hoarse for a few days. Although I always spot him drinking out of the water bowl, he will dehydrate quickly and need fluids several times a day. He shakes his head violently, as if he has bad earmites (he does not) He will paw at his face and get  what I call “dead eyed’ when you look at him. You know he is dealing with extreme pain. He also will not let me anywhere near his face to do a mouth check.

Years ago, I stumbled upon an article dealing with Slippery Elm Bark and Powdered Deer antler velvet. The article claimed that Slippery Elm is quite helpful when dealing with stomatitis. I decided to try it. 1/4 tsp sprinkled over wet food 3 times a day did the trick and in a few days, his stomatitis was reduced to two spots of red on the back of his throat. (One spot on either side). He would still have his major flare-ups but I could tell the pain was much less.

Then Covid hit and ordering became difficult. Supplies were limited, it was first come, first served, then the item went on back-order. I have been out of it now for several months. I just got some yesterday in fact. His pain this time was substantial. How he was acting so off and so odd, left me with concerns of either kidney disease (which stomatitis can be a symptom of) or cancer. Dr. Steve doesn’t think that either of these are in play right now. He said he would reverse his decision if in a week, Bentley is still dropping weight and not doing well. Then we will go to x-rays and bloodwork.

I had ordered extra slippery elm this last time, to hold us in case we run into problems getting it. I hope in a few days, Bentley is as right as rain, even in this extreme heat.

I am so relieved to say that last night, and only through the Grace of God, I was able to get close enough to Ash to scoop her up and bring her inside! She had eluded me all day and as I went out for the nightly feed, she was lying with the others under the catio. I stopped and petted Bentley and Poe, and she came out from underneath her hiding place. I ignored her, which I believe threw her off her game and when I started to tickle her with one finger under her chin (she was nowhere near enough to do a safe grab) she leaned into the rub and that’s when I scruffed her and ran her quickly into the house. Thank You God. I did not want her to spend a night outside with all the critter action we have going on.

Her brother who missed her and cried for her constantly, did not recognize her. She had other foreign scents on her fur. So I put real vanilla extract (not that imitation fake stuff) on both their noses and at the base of their tails. An hour later, they were once again best buds and snuggled in together. I’m going to go to Home Depot today and get one more plastic trellis and brace off the last two downstairs windows so  this will never happen again.

This week, Governor Brown signed a bill that has been sitting on her desk for over two years now. This bill will impact small rescue organizations that are non-profit (such as myself). After looking at all the changes included in this bill, I have determined that it is best for me to just step away from rescue. So in Jan of 2022, I will surrender my non-profit status. The normal fee in the past to renew your non-profit has been $50.00 a year. Now it is $375.00. I will be honest with you, if I have $375.00 it will go to my vet, or to get cat food and litter.

There is a huge list of changes needed to follow this law, including if you have over 10 animals and you keep them in outside enclosures, you must keep them on a solid floor and have working sinks inside. The paperwork required is more detailed, and if you get a new animal, you cannot accept that animal until they give you the required paperwork. Ferals in the field don’t usually come with paperwork. Not the kind the powers to be require.

When you fill out “their” paperwork, before they will approve it, they come out for an inspection. If they find that you in violation of any of the new rules, you can be fined heavily. They are making rescue harder than it already is and for what?

I was told that these “changes” will stop puppy and kitty mills and hoarders. To that end, I told the woman on the phone that in my line of rescue most hoarders don’t apply for non-profit status and people who run puppy and kitty mills don’t either- so who was she kidding? You know the old saying, you can’t fight city hall. With Covid now in the works and not going anywhere soon, I am tired, and a bit stressed out all the time wondering how I can keep this up on my own, so I am stepping down.

You are more than welcome to contribute if you wish, but the funds will no longer be tax-deductible after this year. I am 66 years old, I have been rescuing stray and feral cats since I was a toddler. My Daddy taught me everything early on that he knew about these cats that he loved so much. I have come up with ideas to improve my rescuing and trapping skills over the years. I’ve lived with them my entire life and I love them with all my heart.  When Ash escaped, I learned of another way to get a reluctant cat into a trap. You stuff the toe of panty hoes with canned cat food and hang this inside the trap over the food dish! This way the cat is so preoccupied in trying to get to the food, the trigger will engage and the cat will be caught! Novel idea given to me by Dusty Rainbolt a fellow rescuer in Texas. I wish I had known of this trick years ago!

On that note, I wish you all a good day.. Stay safe, we are being struck with large cases of the Delta virus in our county, so it is back to full masks inside public places as of today. Our valley is full of smoke this morning, so many fires burning in the Pacific Northwest and California right now. It’s a month early for fire season-

Prayers to all-

Imagine my surprise this morning at 4:00 a.m. when I went out to feed to see Magoo and Ash lying underneath my apple trees! I was so stunned at first, I should have reacted quicker. I did manage to get Magoo to come to me (thank God for our bonding sessions). Ash is still out there. She ran 7 times around the main enclosure to get away from me, stress pooping the whole way. I was not chasing her, just trying to see if she would come to food.

I have been out all morning, there is no sign of her. I am supremely worried, this is her first time outside and she has such a high level of PTSD, She has to be terrified. I have seven traps set out- all visible from windows of the house. I can’t let her brother out- he is white and these extreme triple digit temps, he would be strong in the running for Squamous cell carcinoma of the eartips. I am glad I at least had bonded to Magoo to be able to get close enough to him to grab him. I have left one way into the house, trying to be as safe as possible in doing so. If you happen to land on my blog and see this post please send prayers for Ash. She has to be so out of her element and terrified right now.

They did on the build, try to shore up all openings under my home, but cats are crafty and one has dug a hole under the wire and wood so I am hoping she is under the house right now and safe and will be fairly cool today. I can’t do anything other than what I have done. She will not go to any human (even me). I have to hope that she will find her way into a trap or into the house. This is all my fault. It has been so hot here that last night, I left all the windows wide open- usually shut the ones not protected from inquisitive kitties getting out.

Magoo is out of sorts, leading me to believe that not only does he miss his sister, but they were out well after dark last night.

“Come on God, please don’t let anything happen to her. She has survived hell on earth almost a year ago. She is afraid of her own shadow and I hope and pray that she is under the house. Please just give me a glimpse of her today so that I know she is okay. I really don’t want to lose her after all the strides we have made together- God, bring her home please??”

-Amen-

-Ode to Crazy Cat Ladies-

C-is for the Comfort
found within the purrs.

R-is for the Relationship
wrapped tightly up in fur.

A- is for the Awareness
in between the chaos and the strife

Z   is for the Zeal,
you’ve got a friend for Life.

Y- is for the Yowling,
heard only during feeding time.

C- is for the many Cat food cans
waiting down the line.
A- is for Aluminum,
it’s recyclable (Thank you Lord).

T-  is for the Tomcat
(now neutered) at your door

L- is for the Licking of the tongue
upon the face.

A-is for feline Agility,
the loveliness, the grace.

D- is for the town Debate,
Is she crazy? Is she sane?
Y- is for Yielding, to the One who truly reigns,
understanding this life is a calling
not one easily explained.

-Mary Anne Miller-