I have many adventures in feral cat rescue and meeting interesting people is part of the adventure. Now don’t get me wrong; interesting isn’t always so great. Take, for instance, two bozos I’ve had the displeasure of dealing with who work at a local college.
Slinky, an elderly feral our nonprofit has been feeding for 10 years, lives under a bridge at the college. But the head honchos (the bozos) have always prohibited us from offering him shelter. Why, you ask? Because they have their heads up their butts. I’m talkin’ way, way up there.
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.
In cat rescue, I never know what I’ll encounter on any given day.
I might get a call about kittens stuck inside the sub-flooring of a basement and find myself crawling over rodent skeletons to reach 3 kittens huddled in the farthest corner (naturally) after mom was hit by a car.
I might have to traipse through poison oak, even though I’m horribly allergic, because it’s the only way to reach an injured feral. And once in a while I have to steal feral cats from a property where I brought them for rodent control.
As it turns out, I’m pretty awful at misplacing car keys. As a matter of fact, I lost one of my KIA SUV keys a while back, leaving me with just one precious key. The thing is, I know that lost key is somewhere in my house because I drove home the day I lost it. No doubt I’ll find it months from now when looking for a platter. And there it will be, resting on a shelf right in plain sight.
So anyway, I should tell you my SUV has a habit of locking when the doors close. Now don’t get me wrong; I’ve tried programming it not to do that but I’m technologically challenged and too lazy to actually read the manual. This is not good since my personal habit is to leave my keys in the car and close the door. Hence, I always use my 3 free roadside service visits from AAA.
Thanksgiving began with a phone call to my friend Sue.
Me: Just a heads up I may need you later today, so keep your phone nearby. Sue: What’s up? Me: You’re my one phone call I’m allowed from jail. Oh, and don’t forget to remove the turkey from your oven before coming to bail me out. Sue: Okay, will do.
You may be able to deduce from this conversation that Sue knows me well enough to realize one of these days I’ll be arrested for helping animals, probably cats, and if that means doing something illegal in the process, so be it.