You Can’t Trust Anyone

Busy, busy…oh so busy; therefore here’s a blog post from October, 2016.

I’m sitting on my sofa writing this, fighting off something intangible, unlike the pesky fly that buzzed around my face earlier today. That reminds me, what’s a fly doing still hanging around in October? Didn’t he get the memo it’s time to move on? Anyway, what I’m fighting off today is exhaustion and I’m afraid it’s gaining the upper hand.

i-am-tired

Normally I write in my office where I usually house a feral foster kitten. When I’m too busy to hold the little munchkin, I sometimes socialize it with a wand toy in one hand while typing with the other. So finishing a blog post when I’m fostering can be long and tiresome, not unlike this election season.

my-latest-foster
George, my latest foster

Anyway, I’d be in my office right about now but I don’t have the stamina to walk the 28 paces to get there. Yes, I actually counted. So I confess I wasn’t being honest just now because I actually walked the distance then came back to my cushy sofa to continue writing. Which brings me to the point of this week’s post; you can’t trust anyone.

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How I Conquered a Phobia

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.

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Call Me Insane

Last week I admitted I’ve added yet another cat to my furry four-legged menagerie. Crazy? Let’s go with no. Insane? Possibly. I’ll let you be the judge, even though last week I asked you not to judge me. So I guess what I actually am is a hypocrite.

I had hoped my feeble attempt to tug at your heartstrings would win you over so you’d see I’m a regular person who happens to love animals sometimes more than people. Now don’t get me wrong; mostly I think people are fine and dandy. In fact, I’m quite fond of many of them.

But with my cats and dogs, I love pretty much everything about them — how trusting they are, how excited they get greeting me at the door when I’ve only been gone an hour, how they love me unconditionally and follow me around the house like ducklings trailing their mom. I could go on but I’ll spare you.

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When I Was Stupid

Okay, so here’s what happened.

Three weeks ago Marin Humane asked me to foster a couple feral kittens. Naturally, I said yes to Trinity and Sturgill. You can foster domestic kittens all you want, I don’t blame you. Domestic kittens are like baby Pandas. What’s not to love?

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One Smart Cookie


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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