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.
The weird thing is, it’s an actual cat. No surprise I guess, as I’m assuming the saying originated when someone astute recognized that kittens tend to copy their mothers. Hold on while I google that. Okay, I’m back. Turns out the earliest reference to copycat was in 1887 with no mention of felines. After that it gets too boring for words, so Iet’s move along.
My copycat happens to be my cat Tippi, so named because her tipped ear is severe. Seems ever since I adopted the ever-entertaining Jack a few months ago, Tippi’s personality has changed. And not, might I add, for the worse.
I trapped Tippi in a feral colony 2 1/2 years ago in the small farming and ranching community of Valley Ford. Tippi and her 21 assorted siblings were born under the grocery store. Thankfully, the store owners asked us (Marin Friends of Ferals) to have them spayed/neutered before she had 41 siblings. Long story short, I ended up keeping Tippi after realizing she was a tweener – not adoptable at the shelter yet not feral enough to be content living under the market.
So I’ve been in my fall purging state lately. Now don’t get me wrong; I’m not bulimic. I enjoy food too much, as my thighs will attest. Here I go digressing again, something I’m rather adept at. That’s because I’m scatterbrained. I admit that and I own it. It’s who I am.
Hello. I’m Janet and I’m scatterbrained.
Anyway, back to purging. What I mean is I’m going through my garage and closets to rid myself of nonessential stuff I’ve accumulated over the years. That means I can discard pretty much everything I own. But instead I’m purging items I’m tired of in order to make room for more things I’ll tire of later. Continue reading →
Now don’t get me wrong; I believe most people are good. Really I do. But occasionally it’s hard to remember that fact when experiencing evil. Don’t worry, I’ll fill you in. Patience dear friends…
As you know, a good portion of my time is spent helping feral cats. We have colonies of sterilized ferals living on public land where our dedicated volunteers feed them. On occasion we leave a motion sensor camera to alert us when newbies show up, as ferals can be elusive.
And that’s how we discovered a black and white cat engulfing the food at one of our locations. Our volunteer, Shirin, along with other volunteers, alerted us to this new cat at our feeding station.
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.