Everybody has rats. And I, for one, couldn’t be happier.
Now don’t get me wrong; unlike Michael Jackson in the movie Ben, I am not best friends with a rat. I’m quite content with my human friends, thank you very much; taking on a rat is beyond my bandwidth. No, the reason I’m happy is because more rodents mean more feral cats will be saved.
Michael and his besties
You see, my nonprofit, Marin Friends of Ferals, takes under-socialized, un-adoptable sterilized cats (ferals) and relocates them to outdoor homes. Because ferals are the Eco-friendly answer to rodent control, our Career Cat program is booming. While receiving daily meals from their guardians, the cats do what they do best: hunt. It’s a win-win situation…well, except for the poor rodents. Continue reading
Time flies. At least that’s what they say. And I think I believe them because I just realized it’s been 3 months since I had an idea I wanted to translate into a blog post. Can you believe that? Ninety days…twelve weeks…that’s 2160 hours, if my math is correct. But since I suck at math, I could be wrong.
Now don’t get me wrong, even though I just said I could be. I actually had plenty of ideas from early July until today. At least, I’m assuming I did. Who can remember? But I suppose after blogging once a week for 5 1/2 years, I needed a break. And who knows, maybe you did too. But life is getting busier and finding time to write late at night was about as likely to happen as me eating meat.
Therefore, if you are one of my roughly 100 devoted readers, you’ll notice I’ve been reprinting posts mostly from 2013. I mean come on, I barely remember them so I’m guessing you didn’t either. And more importantly, you probably weren’t a reader of mine, as I only had about 30 back then. So for you, my old posts were brand new and for me they were a welcome respite. Continue reading
Originally posted in 2013
I think most people harbor a fear that borders on phobia. For me it’s snakes and small spaces. I understand why snakes give me the creeps, but small spaces? Maybe it’s the fear of suffocation or being trapped. Regardless, neither sound inviting to me.
I remember when we were kids, my brother put a pillow over my face as we played. I felt such terror that all rational thought left me; I screamed like I was dying. That feeling is still with me today whenever I feel confined. Continue reading
Recently I received a call from a gal named Kyle. She and her husband live in the mountains of Santa Cruz. She heard about my nonprofit feral rescue and wanted rodent control on her 5-acre property. Kyle tried calling organizations closer to her but never heard back. Hum, I wonder why? Sometimes groups are busy and ignore calls. Now don’t get me wrong; we aren’t that group. So I answered her call.
Santa Cruz mountains
Since Santa Cruz is a couple hours away, it’s not easy to hop over for a look at the property. So I asked Kyle to take photos and did a phone interview about their needs and whether the cats would have safe zones from possible predators. (They will.)
Loretta, my trusty volunteer, even took the day off work to help me relocate the 4 ferals. Something must be wrong with her. She loves doing relocations, no matter how far away. She accompanied me when we went to Fresno recently and trapped 6 stranded cats. That was a long day and night but she loved every minute. Like I said, something must be wrong with her. Continue reading
Today I was thinking about my late business partner, Susan, while I trapped feral cats on a 50 acre water buffalo farm where they produce mozzarella in rural Marin County. Talk about farm fresh. As you’ve probably guessed, it’s uniqueness is evident. I mean, seriously, it’s where the buffalo roam. (And, I’m guessing, where the deer and the antelope play.)
Anywhere rural is bound to have feral cats. Like being in one of those revolving doors at fancy hotels, they tend to come and go. But not before we ensure they stop having kittens. Still, that’s a tall order to fill when, if we miss 2 cats of the opposite sex, well, there ya go.