I wanted to talk to you guys for a few minutes and catch you up on what has been going on.  I am sure most of you know that the West Coast is literally in flames right now. Here is Oregon, my home is being threatened by the Holiday Farm Fire and I am evacuating today. I found a place to put my semi-feral cats that isn’t being threatened by fire. I feel like I have abandoned them, they left this morning.

Leaving behind, are my full feral cats. I have a lot of food, water and other diversions left  for them. I feel so bad, because I promised them long ago, that I would never abandon them. So I am breaking my promise to them. Under the circumstances, I don’t know what else to do. If the fire does breach the hill and come over and they have to run- they will be running toward the river. There, they have a chance of surviving, otherwise- well, it’s all up to God..

I don’t know when I will be able to log-in to my blog again. That’s one thing I cannot work from my cell phone just my PC.  My truck is packed to the roof and I am so tired right now, I am falling asleep at the keyboard. Not sleeping well these days.

Kota and Molly will be with me- I will be staying with a good friend for now. Beyond that, I do not know, Please all of you, just stay safe- these are turbulent times for so many..

Photos of the sky over my pasture

And here are my cats going to what I pray stays safe shelter

I had it all set in my head. I was going to log in and tell you about the cat that I found in a local park. She was old, she was bony, she was barely moving. There were people moving all around her. Ignoring her pleas for water and assistance. She was declawed, weak, dehydrated she was dying. But people were partying around her. She wasn’t hidden, she was under a tree.

I happened to be visiting a friend that lived on that street, and I stopped at the park to give Kota a run. I saw the kitty, so I left him in the truck and ran over, She was so debilitated. There was a little girl almost on top of her playing with a balloon!  I asked her if she knew anything about this cat? She just shrugged her shoulders and told me the kitty had been there for awhile.

I raced back to the truck. Thankfully,  I had a small blanket tucked under the seat. I picked her up gently, rushed her to the vet. On the way to the vet she died. She was a Siamese, someone had decided her life wasn’t worth much. (That decision was made when she was declawed). I named her Spark and left her with the vet so they would cremate her and do a community scattering. Our ground here is so hard that even my tractor could not have made a dent in the soil.

So I was going to share all of that and call it a day, then on Saturday the 30th, a day that will stick in my mind forever. I got a call from a friend. She had recently lost her Bull Mastiff and she had found another dog that she had at her home. The owner was there at the time, and she wanted me to come by and meet the dog and give her some tips about how to introduce him to the five kittens she adopted from me a few years ago. I asked her if the dog was dog friendly, she left the phone came and said Yes, Dan (the owner) said his dog was dog friendly. So I brought Kota with me, a decision I shall forever regret.

Kota is very intuitive about dogs. I did not teach him this, he just knows that with aggressive dogs, he immediately goes submissive. On his back, paws up, no threat. They back off because that is a pack way. For shy dogs, he lays down so his belly is flat, he lowers his head and lets them sniff him until they are satisfied that he is okay. And for happy, active dogs he is a tornado of play.

We get there and I keep him in the truck. I have been around dogs long enough to know that when they are on their property, they are highly protective. I told my friend that I was going to take Kota for a walk and that she and the previous owner needed to go down the driveway and walk away from where we were standing (a few houses down)

So they come down the driveway and this dog is HUGE!  He is bigger than a Mastiff. They start walking. The dog is focused on the street ahead of him. I am about a yard away and ready to make a giant swing into the street far enough away to keep us safe and come up in the street ahead of them,

Well this brute finally saw Kota and it was on. He didn’t even show one “Tell” There was no growling, no barking, not a raised lip, no tucked tail or low body posture. NOTHING! He lunged and in doing so (I found out later) broke the metal ring on his collar where the leash was and he knocked over his elderly owner.

But he was on Kota. Kota went submissive, didn’t matter this dog was on the kill. Kota was screaming, like I never want to hear him scream again. The dog was laying on Kota with both of his front legs in his mouth. He was chewing on him like he was a piece of chicken. Kota is screaming, he’s not fighting back.

I just jumped in. I was screaming. I grabbed that damn dog’s collar and I yanked as hard as I could. I pounded on the side of the dog’s face with my fist and I am screaming Get off my dog! He finally let go of Kota and Kota took off screaming. He was shot out of a cannon, he was moving so fast. It happened by the University of Oregon. There were people during the fight coming out of their houses, cars were stopping, people were getting out of their cars. It was like a circus.  All this was happening during the fight. The dog ,he didn’t bark when he was on Kota, he roared. I’ve never heard anything like that.

So there I am, I have this dog, I am behind him and I have his collar in both hands. I am keeping him off the ground with all my might and I don’t know to this day how I did that? This dog,  it would turn out was over 200 pounds. I am 180.

So he turns and he sees me. It  was eerie. The look in his eyes- he was cunning. He lunged backward and threw me off balance. I fell into the gutter, and I felt this tremendous pain in my bad knee and my foot. I saw him back up and crouch down. I met those black eyes and they were narrowed. I knew he was thinking he had me.  I also knew, that even if I ended up in the hospital I was going to kill that son-of-a-bitch.

I was getting ready to bring my legs to my chest and kick this brute with all my might. He went to launch on me and he was grabbed by onlookers, i think. (Its all sort of a blur). I tried to get to my feet and a this kid built like a football player leaned in and said Where do you hurt?”  I told him my knee and my foot and this kid just lifted me up under my arms like I was 40 pounds.

I turned around screaming Kota’s name over and over again. I wanted whoever might have him to know that someone was looking for him. I had flashes of thoughts that someone would see him, stuff him in the car and take off with him, or he was  laying somewhere dying. I tried to hurry but my leg wasn’t cooperating.

I finally got to the street where he disappeared. People were reaching me, telling me it was okay that the dog was gone. I didn’t care about the damn dog. I wanted Kota..I Iooked down the street and I saw him clear at the end. He was flanked by the two female joggers who went after him after he fled. They wanted to bring him back to me, but he couldn’t walk.

When I reached him, we were both shaking. I put him on the down, stay and he laid down on the grass. I carefully searched him looking for bite wounds, broken bones. His front legs were swelling at an alarming rate. The guy who helped me up had followed me. He told me that he could carry Kota back to the truck for me.

I told him I couldn’t let him do that. Although my dog is the sweetest dog on the planet and a service dog, I explained. He also just got attacked with such ferocity that if he was injured internally and you hit a pain spot, he might bite you because he is not himself.

I bent down and I talked to Kota. I told him I had a big Ask. He had to get up. I had to get him to the truck and get him to my vet. Bless his heart, he got up and both of us limped back to the truck with people following us. There were people on the adjacent streets coming out, They did not see the attack, but they heard it. I still hear it in my head at night. The noise was unbelieveable.

On the way to the truck, the owner appeared. I  put out my arm at full length and told him to go away. I did not want to talk to him right now. He said to me:

“I have one question”

I snapped back “WHAT?”

Then he asked me the strangest thing:

“Did you see any red on your dog?”

I looked at him, and I said, no, I did not see any bite wounds.

To which he replied “Oh you won’t he NEVER leaves bite wounds!”

Well, i already knew the man was a liar and a pastor! This photo taken two days after the fight proves he lies. His question to me and his answer showed me this dog has done this before.

And these aren’t even the bad ones! Those are inside his leg, one going up into his chest with a drain in it. I won’t show those.

Kota has 10 bite wounds. He has soft tissue damage to his front legs, his left side where he was slammed to the ground. When we shaved him, he has bruising from neck to tail on his belly and on his left side. He is on Rimadyl, Cephalexin, Trammadol and CBD oil. He is having nightmares every night, as am I. He is on house arrest for months. I take him by his leash to his pen four times a day to potty. If he doesn’t have pain killers on board, he can only walk two steps before he collapses.

I have filed a report against the owner. If I told you my friend still has the dog, you wouldn’t believe me but she does. At least the last time I talked to her she does. She “feels sorry for the dog. It wasn’t his fault!” I have tried with all my might to talk her into taking this dog and surrendering him, but instead she is keeping him. She goes outside with him and reads her book! I told her she has a suicide bomber in her backyard and she has no idea when this dog will trigger. She doesn’t believe me. If she goes as far as to let him in the house, he will barrel through the door of the basement and kill the cats and the bunnies who now live down there.

I thought she was senile by how she was talking, until one night about 2:00 in the morning, I got these strange texts from her that were unreadable. Fearing the dog had finally gotten to her, I called her and in 5 minutes I knew, she was stinkin drunk. I have parted ways with her. The police tell me I cannot do anything about her keeping this dog. She is a grown lady and if she wants a killer dog, so be it. I can’t even go over and get my cats back. They have no rights or standing in the law.

I could kick myself for being so stupid about all of this. I never take anyone’s word for it when they tell me their dog is dog friendly. But I trusted her. I would learn later that the owner spent three days with her and the dog prior to my arrival. WHO does that? Who adopts a dog out and then spends 3 hours or 3 damn days with the adopter. That would be a red flag for me right there.

So I have parted ways with this woman. My focus is on Kota and getting him back to health. I will no longer be able to use him for Service. He has been retired. I cannot trust that taking him into public places will not trigger him if he sees another giant dog, or smells something, or sees something that triggers him into attack mode. He has PTSD now and so do I. The vet said once he is better, he will be put on Prozac in a low-dose. He still has nightmares, he screams in his sleep. He’s trying to constantly crawl into my lap and freaks out every time I go outside without him.

I am so mad at myself. I caused this gentle boy to endure this pain. I hope he forgives me for all of this. I’ve asked God to forgive me too.  The vet said that two things saved Kota. He weighs 90 pounds and he DIDN”T fight back.

This is the Red Zone dog that attacked Kota. I had posted on FB about this attack. I received a private message from a gal in Idaho that trains dogs- service dogs, attack dogs, guard dogs, she does them all. This is not a bull mastiff. This is a mix of two South African dogs a Boerbol, and a Kanga. Both dogs are fiercely protective and are used to hunt and kill lions.

She said that looking at what she called Level 3 bites on the photo, tells her that his dog has been trained to bite the body suit. You know those big inflatable suits they use in police work for attack. She said this dog needs to go to the bridge immediately. I have no control over that. He bit my dog. had he bit me perhaps I would have more standing on what happens to him. My friend insists that he is “so loving, so gentle, so wonderful”  I just want to throw up when she tells me this over and over.again..

Thanks for letting me get all of this off my chest..I hope Kota comes out  the other side the same as he was, but I doubt it. All his work we were doing in nursing homes and children’s hospitals will now cease. And this dog? I hope my friend comes to her senses and puts him down.

I did drop off Sundance at the vet and not long after, they called to tell me that he had tested positive for FeLV and FIV. So we stamped his Bridge Pass. A few days later, another orange stray showed up in the exact same place that Sundance first appeared.

I tried to get close to him, but if I thought that Sundance was skittish, this boy was ten times worse. Just one move toward him and he vanished for about 5 days.

I ended up just setting the trap into the bushes . During the day, I left it open and ready, but at night, because of the fear of trapping a coon, skunk or possum, I would prop the door open so it wouldn’t spring.  I kept checking it using my binoculars, but it stayed empty.

About a week later, I decided that perhaps he was just looking for his brother, and he wouldn’t be back. I was involved in a new project in one of my cat enclosures. It was nearing noon, and I was ready to go in the house and call it a day. I decided to go ahead and take one more look at the trap- and lo-and behold there he was trapped!

I was so happy to finally capture him. Watching him from a distance, I could tell something was really off about him. I grabbed a dark towel and hustled to the trap.

When he saw me coming, he went ballistic, ramming himself repeatedly over and over against the wire. I quickly covered him and waited for him to calm down. I knew that the vet wouldn’t be very pleased to have me drop him off so close to closing time, but I called anyway. They told me to bring him down.

I picked up the carrier and to my surprise the door wasn’t firmly latched! I had put a stout piece of cardboard inside the trap before the trigger plate. I think when he initially went inside, his back feet scooted the cardboard forward and it jammed under the door. He was sticking his paw out of the opening, and when I went to pull the door open a bit and slide the cardboard out- he nailed me. He tried to put his head under the door, desperate to escape.

I was not going to let that happen, so I tilted the trap quickly backward and he slid to the back of the trap. Before he could figure out how to show up and fight again, I slid the cardboard out and slammed the door shut.

Carrying him to the truck, became quite the ordeal. He was running back in forth in the trap and it was so off balance for me to hang on to. He was a HUGE cat- and heavy. I was out of breath when I got to the truck. I slid him in and braced both the sides against some containers, so he couldn’t get out even if he wanted to,..

It was another hot day. I was worried he was overheating, so because he was braced securely, I removed the cloth and was able to get a good look at him. Although his eyes did not show any cloudiness to them, I got a sense he was blind? His pupils were darting right and left and he appeared to not be able to see me? He was so scared. I just sat there and talked him down until he stopped open mouth panting. Then we went to the vet and I dropped him off.

I named him Elusive, because he certainly was that. He sure gave me a run for my money. I was still out of breath after I got to the vet.

Just like the other orange boy, he too tested positive and we put him down. I was sad to lose two golden boys within weeks of each other, but they are no longer suffering AND no longer making babies that are probably infected as well.

I hope this is the end of the strays around here. I had the place pretty cleaned out with trapping, neutering and releasing all the feral cats last year. Not sure where these boys came from, but I know where they are now- they are much better off than before.

I have been absent from this blog for awhile because of a new stray that has shown up. I am calling him Sundance. He is a Tom, and he is very skittish. He would vanish the minute that I stepped out the back door, even though he was only lurking in the bushes at the end of our four acres. He was that scared.

I started to feed him on a regular basis at the same spot, at the same time. I could only “look” at him through my patio window with the aid of my binoculars. I could see that he wasn’t in good shape.

A few days ago, I was surprised to see him at the drinking pool in the middle of the yard. I guess, I shouldn’t have been, because the temps were in the triple digits. Although I was providing food and water back by the creek daily, his bowl must have been empty prompting him to move closer to the house.

Tonight, I decided that I would try and trap him before dusk. Usually, I trap in the mornings. Although, I don’t know why, I had a feeling that he really needed to be helped. I saw him appear in the customary spot by the creek, so I loaded my trap. I prayed all the way to the spot, put some tasty FF in a dish. Since I didn’t want him to see me load it. I stopped halfway there and set it up to trip. I had to carry it very carefully so not to trip the lever.

I set the trap down. I  turned around and went back in the house. I grabbed my binoculars and waited. All the time, I am thinking of that old adage: “A watched pot never boils.”

Pretty soon out he comes. I placed the trap so the door was toward the bushes, not the house. I didn’t want him to come around the trap and see activity in the yard and get spooked vanishing back in the bushes..

All of a sudden- he goes to the front of the trap and he vanishes! I’m praying that he is inside and trapped, but I have my doubts because trapping is never this easy! I grabbed my telescoping boat pole. My thought was if I get close enough to the cage to use the 8 foot pole, maybe I could just reach out and hit the trap with the pole and snap the door shut. But he was trapped!

Poor boy, he was so scared. He was spitting and hissing, So I went back to the barn.  I grabbed  a dark blanket and covered him up. Before I put him into one of the empty enclosures (still in the trap) I took a better look at him. His right eye, the orb is missing. 🙁 His left side of his face is swollen.) I will take him to the vet in the morning and let them sedate him and evaluate him.. If they can, neuter him. I suspect he will have to have his eye socket surgerized. I hate that he has to stay in the trap for 12 plus hours, but the pay-off is worth it.

On a more somber note, by boy Baker is not doing well. I took him to the vet the other morning..He went postal during the exam, but they did manage to draw blood. He also managed to draw blood on me! He shredded the inside of my thighs- big time. He was so scared. He is currently living inside the large enclosure with Pigeon and PITA but he is semi-feral.

The vet called tonight and the  news is not good. He has pancreatitis. If some of you don’t know that that is, it is when the pancreas is misfiring and eating itself up. It is very painful. He also has hyperthyroidism and is in early stages of kidney disease. He is 14 years old.

He was 6 months old when he arrived here. Someone sped down the highway and tossed him out of their car as they passed our home! He suffered massive bruising and has a protruded disc in his back.because of this trauma.

The plan is for now, we are going to put him on anti-nausea medication, antibiotics, anti-inflammatory drugs and I will try and get him to eat whatever I can. If he continues to lose weight, and the vomiting does not stop, (now I know where all those piles of vomit have come from out there) I will have no choice but to put him to sleep.

Please if you can- and ONLY if you can, please send something to the CATS fund to help cover some of the expenses we are about to be hit with. Between Molly’s seizure medications and now this- my head is spinning. I just made a large payment to my vet too and was starting to relax. Not anymore.

Thank you for anything you can send and here is my Baker Boy. This was taken just after he got home from the vet. He is giving me stink-eye.

I have no idea if anyone can even read this or not, because of all the violent weather back East and elsewhere. I know that power is out pretty much everywhere and flooding is a real concern- but here goes my plea….

Molly had a seizure this afternoon. 🙁 It lasted just under a minute but it felt like an eternity). She defecated and urinated all over herself and before I could get to her, she had bitten her tongue.

I raced her to my vet and he said it was more than likely this is from Kota jumping on her and just reinforces the fact that she is neurologically challenged.

I had to buy special medicine for her- and because it’s Molly, it had to be compounded so it came out of a special pharmacy. Without thinking I wrote the check for $187.00 and afterward realized there is only $9.00 in the account. I have two days to make up the deficit. He will hold the check until Monday. If ANYONE can send me anything- it will stop my BP from boiling over with worry and stress. I had to do it. It’s my Molly-girl.

God Bless and Thank You for anything you might send-

Yesterday, I received a text from a good friend of mine. It contained a link to a FB page. All Doris said was “I know you aren’t actively rescuing now but this one needs you.”

I went to the link and saw that just down the way from me a kitten/cat had been found. The person who found it was highly allergic to cats and couldn’t even have it around. The photo, the cat looked hammered. I could tell by the body language, this cat’s ninth life was slipping away. I answered the call and we went straight to the vet.

This kitty was as stiff as a board inside the carrier. She was a dilute calico long-haired, a real beauty. I could hear her ragged breathing next to me, and my foot went a little harder on the gas.

If she was feral, she was to sick to care. All I heard during the exams were a couple of growls. First we drew blood to see where the kidneys were. Blood work, surprisingly was good- elevated in spots that would explain her condition (horrible) and her stress level. She was rail skinny, she was sub-normal temp 92.3 when you put her on the ground, she would circle and fall over. It was hard to watch. We had pulled some pretty large waxballs out of her ears and she wanted to badly to scratch her ears, but she was so weak her leg would not make it to her head and she would fall over.

So now the discussion- what to do? I wanted her tested, so she came out negative! YAY Vet said, take her home, feed her, keep her warm TLC.

She hadn’t eaten for me, so I asked if they would feed her to see if she would eat? They brought in a bit of food and she scarfed it up- then threw it right up. Didn’t hesitate, just gave it right back up to us. That’s when I asked my vet, please run a film.  She would tell me later: “Good call, Mary Anne.”

Turns out, Peaches had a diafragmented hernia. Her intestines were exploding into her stomach and her lung was collapsed. I said a sad goodbye to her 15 minutes later. Before she left, she got kissed on her head, I stroked her beautiful face and told her I loved her. She was gone before the plunger hit home. Her leaving so suddenly put a big dent in my heart, and another hit on the vet we were trying so hard to pay down. But, even though our meeting was brief, I am grateful to have met her.

This morning, I received a very weak meow from Ms. Molly! I wanted to dance on the stars when I heard her squeak at me! As much as in the past, I wanted her to find her mute button- since she talked all the time- I was afraid that she would never speak again.

She is not eating with much gusto. I watch her when I put the food down. Force feeding was not successful. Even though she was weak and hungry she was ready to battle me every time. But she is eating. I can’t say that she is back 100% yet, but I think we are at about 80% there.

She is hiding under the futon upstairs, during the day and at night she might come down about 2:00 a.m. to join me before I feed. If Kota is on the bed, he has learned quickly that she will run at him hissing and swatting until he gets down! She may be five pounds to his 95 pounds but it is clear who is the heavyweight around here! LOL  All I can say is “Welcome Back Ms. Molly!”

Eleven days ago in the middle of the night, Molly was sleeping next to me soundly, when Kota decided to leap on the bed and he landed smack on top of her!  I woke up to a piercing, horrific meow for help that was squelched by the weight of the dog on top of the kitty. By the time I got my bearings and turned on the light, Kota was back by the door looking ashamed of himself and Molly was flat on the bed. I gently picked her up, she was so flat, I was afraid she was gone. I put her on the floor and carefully sat down next to her as I could see, although her breathing was shallow, she was breathing. She could only take two steps towards me at a time, before she collapsed. She would then raise her head and look at me and try to get up and fail. I spent the rest of the night with her on the floor and rushed her to the vet in the morning.

Initially, they did not find anything alarming that jumped out at them during the exam. I was given pain meds to rub on her ears and they gave her an anti inflammatory shot. I wanted them to do films and bloodwork, but it wasn’t my normal vet. They did not see a need to add to my  bill. So we went home.

Molly never stabilized and she started eating air. (I don’t know how else to explain it.) She started gradually hiding from me in the house. Which, she is a lap kitty and if my lap is available,  she is on it. She is also a very talkative little girl. She tells me constantly about her day, she yells at me should I take to long to feed her. She never stops talking to me until she is lying on my lap. In the last two days she has been as quiet as a pet rock. 🙁 She also quit eating)

When she started chewing air, what I mean by this, is that she would be sitting on the floor,  she would stretch her neck out in front of her at an odd angle. Then she would tilt her head to the side and started gnawing on the air. The sound she was making, quite bizarre, so I called my vet and told them what was happening and they told me to drop her off! Even though they aren’t doing drop offs yet.

I just got her back home and the news is not good. Since her last visit she has lost 4 pounds! They did a lot of tests on her- some of them they ran twice, (but only charged for running the results once). She is highly anemic, dehydrated and they suspect she has a bleed. The only problem is they can’t find it, so they can’t really help her. I was told the only way they can find the bleed is with an MRI which is a treatment they do not provide. The place that does this is 2 hours away in Salem. An MRI is $1200 and that does not include the anesthesia. Molly would be put under general anesthesia and with neurological issues like she is displaying, this is high risk.

So, I am just going to let her decompress, she went through a lot this morning. They finally did sedate her so they could get good films of her head, neck and back. Right now, she is so upset with me that I can’t even sit on the bed with her. She is so stressed out. They also diagnosed her with PTSD from the incident and she is wearing a pheremone collar now.

If anyone has a few dollars laying around, we could sure use it to cover this new expense. So Yes, I am asking for donations. Here is a copy of the bill so you can see this is on the level. Thank you for anything you can send. I will update as I can, but it is uncertain what is going to happen in the next few days. I might be offline as she is needing a lot of TLC including force feeding as she cannot swallow right. But they ran tubes down her throat- did bloodwork, x-rays and chem studies (in case she was accidently poisoned). I am freaking out inside, I just lost Mike, I do not want to lose this precious kitty as well, although it looks like maybe I might.

I meant to update this two days ago when His Royal Blackness made a very unexpected return! When I saw him (I had given him up for lost) I did a double-take. Was it really  him? After all, black cats are hard to distinguish from each other unless you really know them. I’ve never had a problem in identifying my black cats, but this was definitely him. HRB is cross-eyed (as this boy appeared. He also has a slight white patch underneath his chin. Yes, this handsome black boy had returned and he was not limping, his breathing was slow and regular. He vanished June 25. When he disappeared, so did part of my heart. He may be full feral, but he is still greatly loved here.

I believe what might have happened, is he just went to ground, fell asleep and because black cats possess the highest immune systems of any of the strays, he regenerated instead of dying. So thrilled to see him. I wanted to run up and hug him but failing that, I settled into a lounge chair and just quietly sat, watching him.

He was outside of the shop and pretty soon the other cats came out. Instead of him getting all puffy and ticked off, I watched in amazement as the waltzed up to each of the six cats and rubbed his signature on each one of them! They were friends now. In my heart I knew, he has finally found a home.

Before his disappearance, if I made any sort of a move toward him, he would hiss and bare his teeth at me before fleeing. I had to feed the clowder, so I just started popping cans open. HRB started towards me- then he stopped and just watched.

Making sure that I did not even look in his direction, I eased out of my chair and walked over the feral feeder dished out the food and then sat back down. He went into the cat door of the shop, stuck his head out the entrance and waited. This game of chess was on. It was my move next.

Every part of me was screaming to just walk over to him and see if I could inspect him. The old Mary Anne would have done that, but his actions prior to all of this showed me he is a cat who wants to live his life on his terms, not necessarily on mine. I just got up and started into the house. I turned around to see what he did. Would he vanish again or would he stay? He came out of the shop and jumped on to the feeder table. I could see a great deal of missing hair on his once-injured leg. There was no pronounced limp. His sides were not heaving up and down. Despite being so injured, giving my vet the hardest time of his career (my vet’s words not mine!) He was fine! As I went into the house, I sent a prayer skyward thanking God for returning him back to a place that will love him (from a social distance) for the rest of his life. I believe he has perhaps seven lives left?

He is still here. He will come out when I am outside now. He will not approach me, but he does not flee when he sees me. I have seen him in the last few days, from my bay window more than I did before. This morning, when I just went out to feed, he came completely out of the shop and meowed at me! He started towards me. Just like Twist, I could sense that he really wanted to be petted. Twist is also black and she is a mere slip of kitty now four years old. But due to inbreeding, her growth was stunted and she looks more as if she is 6 months old size-wise. I know both kitties want the connection with me. I also know from my many years of working and watching strays that if I do approach them and “try” to make them like me, all the effort put in to bring about trust, that WILL vanish.

In his absence, I beat the bushes down looking for him. Every morning with dread in my heart, I would go to the edge of the driveway and scan the highway to see if he fell victim to a car. I searched, I put up posters, called the vets and other cat people in the area and finally decided that he had gone to the Bridge and I needed to move on. Thankfully, this was not the case. He is home and I will continue to take my cues from him and perhaps in the future, I will be able to send you a photo of him on my lap. That’s the plan folks, but I am working on his time clock and it could take weeks, months, even years or not happen at all. My friend Haley told me the other day, I should change his name to His Royal Miracle! LOL  I like his Royal Blackness so much better.

There is so much going on right now beyond my front door. So much hate and discontent and killings. What started as a protest has now turned into a revolution in some parts of our nation.There are people acting feral, they are acting rabid. All of it is very confusing and scary. The virus is still here. It is not a hoax. But in this home, when if comes to HRB? Black Lives do matter. 🙂 ALL Life matters whether it has two feet or four. Especially this black life!:)

On the pet food front, it is pretty dismal. I wish that they would just call me before I leave and tell me if the food is there or not. I have been there faithfully or had someone to stand in for me, every Friday without fail. If I drive to Albany which is 45 minutes from here, when I get home, I am crippled up for 3 days. It is disheartening to show up and be told, “There is nothing here for you!” They don’t even say they are sorry. I just drive away empty. I am now buying cat food and paying the vet bill out of my household expenses. My cats will eat before I do. I am becoming very fond of PBJ’s and am so grateful that a Good Samaritan has gifted me with nine months of food for me. I can see God’s plan in all of this- so it balances out. Call it Faith (which I do) call it Kismet, call it whatever you want, but we are still afloat. All cats are healthy and happy and life moves on.

Yesterday, I decided to tackle Mike’s lumber pile. It has been sitting unused now over 15 years, covered in tarps. It was quite the mess. But I started removing the years of lawn debris that covered the tarps (8 in total!) When I got to the very last tarp and finally pulled it off- I saw this mass of shredded plastic shopping bags. They were constructed along with twigs and leaves into a large nest! There was a mama possum and five babies! I screamed because they startled me, mama raised her head, showed me her pearly whites and vanished underneath the pile with her babies. Guess she though playing possum wouldn’t work for this situation! LOL  She had dug a huge hole in the ground at the front of the lumber stack and lined it with her finds. She must have gone into the shop to get the plastic bags, she shredded each bag into long strips for insulation and had quite the cozy nest!

What I ended up doing- as all the lumber was not salvageable. I just restacked it. Over the nest, I placed just the top of a large plastic dog crate (to give her added protection should she return) Then I just covered it with one tarp and let it be. If she wants that as her home, I have no problem with her plans. I did also leave her a large amount of dry kitty food as an apology for interrupting her family time.

John Steinbeck once wrote: “The best laid plans of mice and men.” This phrase aptly describes the situation right now. I had decided a few days ago, to just let His Royalness calm down. He was so scared at the sight of any human. He had been poked, prodded, annoyed and I just wanted him to decompress. So I left plenty of food out for him, lots of water dishes and I just let him alone for 48 hours.

Well he showed me- he has vanished! He has found a weakness in the floor and started digging away at it. He tunneled out and I haven’t seen him in three days now. I guess the fact that he was able to use both of his front legs to dig out, means his front leg is no longer a mess. I have been searching high and low for him, but my guess is he is now under the haybarn (which is where the tunnel ends. So I am putting food under there for him as well as water. I am hoping in the next few days, he will reappear laughing at me. He definitely does not want anyone helping him out in any fashion.