The Hits Just Keep on Comin’

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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 →

Where Are We Again?

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don't foget A couple weeks ago I divulged my innate ability to get lost (even with GPS). This week, why not tackle my skill at losing things? Things like my keys, my mind and my glasses. I thought I’d slip in the losing my mind reference without much notice, but seems you were paying attention.

My nickname in high school was Skippy because I was, well, a bit scattered and yes, forgetful. Still am. Friends even went so far as to choose that name as my personalized license plate. Motorists thought I loved peanut butter or had a passion for skipping. Little did they know. I’ve been know to forget having met someone. Unbelievable, huh? Sometimes I don’t recall places I’ve supposedly visited. I’ve even watched an entire movie then realized, as the credits rolled, that I’d seen it before. I’ve always been this way, which in a sense gives me comfort. Continue reading →

One Smart Cookie

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I’m writing this on Friday afternoon sitting in my SUV in front of a home I’ve come to know much too well the last 41 days. In fact, I think I’ve been here more than my own home lately. Now don’t get me wrong; that’s a lie. But it feels true.

I’ve been on the hunt for a mom and her kittens with Constanza, our San Rafael volunteer coordinator for Marin Friends of Ferals. I’ve been doing TNR (trap-neuter-return) for 15 years and I’ve never encountered a smarter cat, feral or domestic. And THAT’S no lie.

Constanza

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Ned, The Target Cat

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About 6 months ago, a woman and her daughter sent me a video of a long-haired tabby racing through the parking lot of Target late one night. The daughter captured him on her iPhone while her mom yelled, “Film him before he runs away! Hurry, don’t miss him!” Followed by, “I KNOW Mom! I’m getting him!”

When Target closes at 9:00 p.m., cats emerge from the marshland that hugs the store on 2 sides, the bay on the other. Shoppers sometimes leave them food, some contact us (Marin Friends of Ferals) and some, I assume, simply look away.

Target isn’t located near homes so these are feral cats or possibly lost or dumped domestics. So my awesome volunteer, Holly, and I placed a feeding station under a bush off the parking lot, locked a motion sensor camera to it, and started feeding.

Holly

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I’m a Bad Ass

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I can be a bad ass.

You don’t believe me, do you? You think because I’m a diminutive 63-year-old that I sit at home and knit every night, a cup of tea and a cookie on a table next to my easy chair. Oh how wrong you are.

team and cookie

First of all, I don’t particularly like tea. In fact, if I didn’t think it was healthy for me, I’d never drink it again. Secondly, I don’t knit. It’s not my cup-o-tea. (Wink, wink.) Thirdly, I’d never have just one cookie. Who can have just one? Seriously, I wouldn’t care to know that person.

Now don’t get me wrong. By “bad ass” I’m not saying Marin County police have memorized my name. In fact, my criminal life consists of two traffic violations. (Yawn.) One I blame on my friend Sharon when, at her urging, I drove straight in a right-turn-only lane. What can I say…we were running late. My other crime was speeding. Yes, I admit I have a lead foot.

Speed demon

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