Don’t Leave Home Without It

I can’t believe I’m old enough to say this but back in the day, whenever I left the house, I didn’t have a cell phone in my purse. That’s because they weren’t invented yet. Unlike today, I was able to function just fine without staying connected every second of every day to every human being I know. If I needed to talk to someone, I waited until I got home to dial them from our rotary phone.

beige phone 2

Yep, my family had a dial-up phone ages ago. Now don’t get me wrong; I wasn’t around in the day of switchboards like on the Andy Griffith Show where Andy has to ask switchboard operator, Sarah, to ring Aunt Bee for him. Please, I’m not THAT old!

andy griffith

Anyway, our phone was beige with a long coiled cord that stretched from the kitchen nook into the dining room, where we sat and gabbed. But for many years prior, the cord was only 2 feet long so we had to stand to talk. This was also the day of party lines. Know about those?

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Sometimes People Suck

Now don’t get me wrong; I believe most people are good. Really I do. But occasionally it’s hard to remember that fact when experiencing evil. Don’t worry, I’ll fill you in. Patience dear friends…

As you know, a good portion of my time is spent helping feral cats. We have colonies of sterilized ferals living on public land where our dedicated volunteers feed them. On occasion we leave a motion sensor camera to alert us when newbies show up, as ferals can be elusive.

And that’s how we discovered a black and white cat engulfing the food at one of our locations. Our volunteer, Shirin, along with other volunteers, alerted us to this new cat at our feeding station.

Shirin
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Livin’ the Dream

I’ve never wished to be a feral cat. Up until last week.

That’s because I’m relocating 9 cats to a property in Tiburon which is, in a word, unbelievable. This place is a replica of an Italian Villa perfectly situated on gorgeous land facing San Francisco Bay. The view is absolutely stunning…not that the cats will notice.

Tiburon mansion 2

These 9 felines are not socialized to people so they aren’t adoptable. Instead of being euthanized, they’re placed as mousers on properties, but fed daily, just like domestic cats. Except instead of keeping laps warm they keep gardens rodent-free.

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The Great Escape

So I recently relocated 4 young ferals as mousers to a property that on the surface seemed perfect. Still, I entertained little nagging doubts about the owner of the 700 acre ranch, winery and B&B. Yes, he said all the right things but was it because he thought it’s what I wanted to hear? I wondered, but ignored my hunch because the place seemed perfect for feral mousers. And it was. But HE surely wasn’t.

trust-your-gut

We acclimate cats for 3 weeks in cages before releasing them. But when Mr. Jackass admitted he let the cats out after 10 days, he confirmed my reservations. Still, he assured me they were fine, eating a lot, everything’s hunky-dory…blah, blah, blah. So yeah, I wanted to believe him.

A couple weeks later I returned to collect our relocation supplies. That’s when I saw the magnitude of ignoring my hunch. Basically, the cats were starving. Turns out he barely fed them in the erroneous belief they’d be better hunters (the opposite of what I instructed). However, nobody can tell this guy anything so I immediately formulated a plan to recover the cats, knowing he’d resist.

whats-the-plan

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The Hits Just Keep on Comin’

I promise this will be my last Wally blog entry for a while. Now don’t get me wrong; I didn’t return him to the humane society. I’m not that cold-hearted. Frankly I’m surprised the idea even crossed your mind because it’s never crossed mine. But let me tell ya, I’m beginning to think Wally’s previous owner neglected to divulge some of the Wallster’s less desirable behaviors.

wally-on-stairs

Caught in the act

As you read last Sunday, Wally is challenged in a few areas: peeing and pooping in the house, not coming when called, chewing anything he can fit into his mouth, barking at strangers, car sickness, fear of rain, stealing food from my plate…

and-the-hits-just-keep-on-comin2

Wally’s previous owner returned him saying his car sickness was a deal breaker since he planned to take Wally to work with him. To that I say phooey! And I never say phooey. My guess is he couldn’t handle the truth — Wally isn’t easy. These days I keep reminding myself nothing worthwhile ever is. Continue reading