And on it goes...



One of my old shelters on Garson

Sally from Second

 There is nothing much to report from this morning.  It was pretty quiet out there, as it usually is - any one that goes with me can see that there is little traffic and no one out and about at that time of the morning - the only thing you can see are cats.  And the occasional dog bark, or a rooster crowing.  Yes, a rooster.  There is one on either 7th or 8th Street, that crows like the devil right around six each morning.  As soon as the dog barks, there goes the rooster.  I pulled over twice this morning seeing cats come out of no where as I passed by, and set a bowl or two with dry and wet food for them.  They watch from a distance, waiting for me to leave, knowing there might be their only source of food in that bowl, and hungrily running to it after I drive away.  I watch them.  Its true, they do.

PARSELLS

I forgot to mention - last weekend I was driving past the spot I feed at every other day on Parsells, and a nice young black man who rents out half a house on Parsells and allows me to feed in his backyard - he was up and standing at the door when I drove past.  I thought that was unusual, I went past to the next spot on Stout, and then thought 'maybe he was waiting for me to tell me something about my shelters' so I drove back and walked up on the porch to him, and he was on the phone and called out to me that someone had stolen his car and he was on the phone with the insurance company.   I thought this was so sad, he kept saying I have to get to my job, etc.  I offered him my business card and told him to call me if he needed a ride.  I never found out what happened after that as I don't see him that early normally, but I still felt bad.  No one deserves their property to be taken like that, I don't care what it is.

Which leads me to the Stout/Grand garage - where my stuff is still being held hostage.  Those poor cats there - I picked one up this morning and walked it over to under the porch to get some food, after it was pathetically crying for me to leave it food.  These cats still aren't familiar with being fed under the porch after losing their only home they've known in the garage.  I did call the NET office which was a wrong number - the kind woman - an animal lover herself, gave me the correct one, who handled that district, but so did Walt, who called the correct number, and the woman he spoke to thought I was practically a criminal doing what I do --- couldn't believe that I actually fed cats!  She also gave Walt the Inspector's name and number, who actually ordered the boarding up of the garage, and he gave it to me.  I am not calling this man right away, for fear that he will come by to let me get my stuff out, and will see under the porch the stuff I've placed for temporary shelter for these three cats, one of which I still haven't seen.  I am in a dilemma, I don't know how to handle this situation.  I still can't understand the mindset of people who have no compassion for homeless cats.  I think its either the way they were brought up- with hate, or they have a malfunction in their brains and don't feel compassion.

I must get to work, thanks for listening, and have a great day.  Any suggestions would be appreciated. 

"Let us always meet each other with a smile, for the

smile is the beginning of love."