Thanksgiving began with a phone call to my friend Sue.
Me: Just a heads up I may need you later today, so keep your phone nearby. Sue: What’s up? Me: You’re my one phone call I’m allowed from jail. Oh, and don’t forget to remove the turkey from your oven before coming to bail me out. Sue: Okay, will do.
You may be able to deduce from this conversation that Sue knows me well enough to realize one of these days I’ll be arrested for helping animals, probably cats, and if that means doing something illegal in the process, so be it.
This caper was posted 2 years ago. Loretta and I relocated more ferals last night and recalled this adventure. So here you go…
It’s 11:30 p.m. and I won’t be sleeping anytime soon. My adrenaline is surging like a spewing fire hydrant. That’s because I just got home from stealing 4 cats with Loretta, my partner in crime.
Loretta won’t let me take her photo so this will have to do
Now don’t get me wrong. I’m not normally a cat snatcher. I’m more a cat trapper…as in trapping feral cats for sterilization. Tonight, however, was different.
Marin Friends of Ferals has relocated over 500 un-adoptable cats to act as mousers that also receive daily food and water. Only 4 times we’ve had to retrieve them for inadequate care. (Read The Great Escape for another cat caper I chronicled.) Tonight’s snatch was equally exhilarating. Except last time we didn’t get caught. Continue reading →
I wouldn’t say I’m an adrenaline junkie but I’m game for almost anything involving adventure. “No” simply isn’t in my vocabulary when something exhilarating is in the offing. This tendency for thrills sometimes causes me to make stupid decisions. It’s then that I wonder, often too late, what I was thinking. Take our white water rafting trip…
Previously, I’d only experienced rafting on the gentle Truckee River. That’s like wading in the kiddy pool. Now don’t get me wrong; the Truckee offers an enjoyable float down a calm, scenic river, but nothing that makes you nearly pee your pants from excitement. And that, my friends, is what I’m seeking. Continue reading →
I know, it sucks, right? And my condition exists for one reason only: Hilary. Yep. She is totally, entirely and wholly to blame for my current predicament. I suppose you noticed I used 3 adverbs just then. That’s because simply one isn’t nearly sufficient enough to describe the depth of Hilary’s responsibility for this nearly 64-year-old-once-healthy-person now having the back of a 98-year-old.
How can I blame sweet little Hilary for this, you ask? First of all, she isn’t so sweet. Don’t let that smile fool you. But she IS little. Barely reaching a diminutive 5’ 1” doesn’t hide the fact that the woman is no pushover. Nobody messes with Hilary. But I must admit she does have a generous side she shares with her friends. Unfortunately, she considers me one. I’ll explain…
To seamlessly segue from last week to this, Loretta and I ultimately accomplished our goal of giving cat beds to Slinky, who lives under a bridge at a local college and also to Bridget, who lives under another bridge on campus. Granted, that doesn’t sound exciting. But when you realize these two have spent 13 years living in dirt under their respective bridges, offering them their first beds was a big deal. (To us at least!)
Now don’t get me wrong; even though college administrators wish the cats, and we who feed them, would disappear, what they fail to recognize is the gumption of our feral rescue volunteers. These are no wussies. We hold our own when faced with unreasonable requests, like allowing elderly ferals to starve.
When Loretta and I decided it was way overdue that we provide our two ferals a bed, did we fear arrest? Nah. Call us crazy…those cats were getting a bed come hell or high water. And let me tell you, the water was high. (The creek under the bridges was rushing like a river after a recent storm.) So anyway, we waited for the cloak of darkness before pulling off the cat bed caper. Continue reading →