I'll Get You My Pretty!

Thats what I had playing in my head this morning on my rounds - the Wicked Witch of the West saying from the movie the Wizard of Oz.  It was windy and cool out, with debris flying through the air.  I also imagined her saying this when I pulled up to Third Street, where normally there are three cats waiting for me, one has actually climbed into my car before, the other one rolls on the ground at my feet, has even made snow angels in the snow rolling around, and the other is the bully.  Oh, don't let me forget, there is another that has been hanging around, a very nice black and white with a collar on, but sleeping in the tote shelters on the porch of this dilapidated porch.  When I pulled up this morning, day two of nothing.  Not one cat.  And they have been there religiously for a year now.  Has someone REALLY been poisoning these cats?  Is it the man who sees me each morning from across and down the street - who barely speaks English but I have said hello to many times to let him know I am of no threat to him.  Is it the neighbors, who I have never met, but who once threw all their leaves they had raked up on this porch, and who have thrown other items up in the past...    I pulled the board away that shelters the wind from under the porch, where each year I place a new bale of straw down, and I did see soft nests made in the straw where they have kept shelter and warmth so far.  And as I walked up on the porch not knowing what I would find, nothing looked unusual, but I did see another huge heap of food on a plate - this was a lot of white rice and some other sloppy slop piled up.  I wanted to scream, thinking that someone has hurt these poor animals.  And Poppi is missing, and as I drove away from that spot, I said to myself, you were too late to save her. 

Its hard out there.  I still wonder sometimes why I do what I do and how I do what I do.  Really, its hard.  I guess the actual rescues I make give me the strength I need.  Its the ones I can't that overwhelm me.  Have a good day.