Now don’t get me wrong; what I’m about to say may give the impression I don’t adore my 10 pets, all rescues. Yes, they, like humans, are uniquely flawed beings. But accepting flaws are part of any relationship, right? We take the good with the bad. Besides, I’ve determined I was meant to have each of these critters because certain aspects of their not-so-endearing qualities might not be tolerated by some.
My cat with an amputated tail, Savannah, is determined to put me in traction. When it’s time to eat, she’s like a magnet and my legs are metal. She zig zags between them like a slalom skier. Everyday I warn her she’s going to trip me but she pretends not to hear. No doubt one day I’ll be sporting a cast on a body part. But Savannah is the sweetest, gentlest of souls. Not a mean bone in that body.
Wally, my Dachshund mix, barks incessantly whenever someone walks by the house while he’s positioned on the back of the sofa with a perfect view. He’s still not entirely house-trained, even though I pretend I’ve won the lottery whenever he uses the dog door and returns triumphantly, having just relieved himself. Apparently, however, my enthusiasm doesn’t persuade him to use it on a regular basis. But Wally, like one of those poor circus bears, sits up with arms elevated when he wants my attention. It’s endearing and he knows 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 looney. 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.
What I’m about to tell you is just between us. Loose lips not only sink ships, they can also land me in the slammer. The problemwith that? I doubt jail caters to vegetarians and I’m guessing their sleeping arrangements aren’t as comfy as my king size Sleep Number bed with pillow-top padding.
Since you’re finished reading about our dog rescue on Mare Island, I figure this is a good time to tell you about another canine rescue I was part of. Some might call it a dognapping and they wouldn’t be incorrect. But I prefer to label it as a life or death rescue intervention.
Here’s what happened: One of my feral cat caretakers (who we’ll refer to as Shannon) was told by her daughter (let’s call her Kelly) about a dog she discovered living out of state locked in a cage in a basement with no food or water. Pretty cruel, huh? The dog was horribly malnourished and basically ignored by her so-called guardian, a drug addict who we’ll call The Neglector.
Now that the pup pursuit is over, Gracie and Brownie are living the good life with Toni.
Brownie and Gracie recuperating at Toni’s
Toni with Brownie
So this is a good time to tell you the stupid things I did while trying to trap Gracie. Toni and Loretta were unavailable that particular night so I decided to go out alone. That was my first stupid move.
As promised, this is the last Holy Crap posting. Here’s how it ended:
Gracie proved to be nearly impossible to trap. Worried she’d inevitably be hit by a car (like Brownie), we brainstormed for a solution when I remembered seeing a discarded portable basketball system on the side of a secluded dirt road.
We rolled it down to where Gracie eats, cut up licorice plants, then placed a 4’ round net under the hoop. After tying ropes to the edges of the net and connecting them with a carabiner, we looped another cord through that and over the hoop. We covered the net in plantings, then practiced “trapping” a large rock. It worked beautifully, so we put food in the middle. Continue reading →