Category Archives: Cats

Meeting Officer Allen

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Last Friday I’m driving to Forgotten Felines to deliver feral cats being relocated to new outdoor homes. On the way, I stopped to train a group of ladies who volunteered to feed cats living near the fairgrounds.

forgotten-felines

While at a stoplight, my phone pinged. I glanced at it on the passenger seat. It was Forgotten Felines. Why were they contacting me? Something must be wrong. So I picked up my phone to read the text. Damn! It said they needed to postpone until Monday but to keep driving if I’m already on my way.

Relieved, I put the phone down. Then I glanced to my left. There, staring back at me, was a policeman.

oops

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Yep, I’m a Sucker

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There, I said it. I’m not exactly proud of it, but I’m not embarrassed by it either. It is what it is. To be honest, I’m actually okay with it and I’ll tell you why.

As you know, I’m an animal person. I’ve had many cats and dogs in my lifetime so I can’t imagine not having pets living with me. Working in cat rescue, I’ve fostered 272 kittens to date. Over the years, my menagerie grew as I’d add a cat to the count here and there when one of my fosters wasn’t going to be adoptable. I ask you,

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My Pets are Weirdos

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Originally posted in 2018

Let me repeat: My pets are weirdos.

So what does that say about me? After all, I’m the common denominator. That doesn’t mean I think Nellie, Callie, Skip, Wally, Oliver, Savannah, Tippi, and Jack are flawed. Quite the contrary. They may be odd but they provide endless entertainment through their weirdness. And anyway, aren’t we all a little odd? Therefore, I’ll gladly take credit for their, shall we say, unique qualities.

weirdos2

As you all know, Nellie eats poop so I’m used to that weird trait of hers. But another thing she does (when she thinks I’m not looking) is to leap onto the bed immediately after I’m done making it. She gathers the sheets and comforter into a tiny mountain in the middle of the bed, then plops herself on it and promptly takes a nap. A particularly annoying weirdness.

Rather proud of herself
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Compassion: A Curse and a Blessing

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Okay, so you probably noticed my last post ran for two weeks. That’s because I was in France with my besties, cruising for two glorious weeks along the Seine River from Paris to Normandy, which I’ll be blogging about. But until then, here’s a rerun from 2022. I hope you enjoy it…

I believe I have an overactive compassion gene. Now don’t get me wrong; I’m not saying that’s a particularly bad trait, depending on how you look at it. For one thing, it means I’m not a psychopath since they tend not to have an ounce of compassion, let alone a conscience. So yay for me!

The reason I even brought this up is because I’m in animal rescue, specifically cats. Not that I don’t rescue other creatures. I’m what you would call an equal opportunity savior. Wait. That sounds pompous. Let me rephrase that. How about equal opportunity rescuer? Yeah, that’s better.

Now, you’re going to think I’m a bit loony. And you wouldn’t be far off, especially when I tell you what I did the other day…So I’m having lunch at home when I reach for my glass of water and notice a fly inside, swimming frantically in circles. I’m not entirely certain flies swim but whatever it was doing, it looked frantic.

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