My Rounds

Random Pic!
My Boris - God Rest his Soul -and Scooter!  At the vet right now!
(for his teeth, he winces in pain so have to maybe have teeth pulled.  :( )

Nice, quiet morning out there today.  Temperature is mild, which means mud. 

I thought I would start with describing my locations to you, what I see and who I feed.

My first stop is Melville, where that dreadful woman tried to get me to stop feeding the cats next to her house.  Haven’t heard a peep from her since last summer.  There is a kitten – and I call it a kitten – about 8 or 9 months old, that runs to me when I arrive, but keeps a distance.  It’s a sweet looking little kitten – looks very much like Saroo, the young one I just adopted out.  I had him TNR’d last summer.  He was fairly wild so I had to let him back.  Otherwise, there are maybe three others that I see briefly.  They actually live in the basement of this vacant house because there is a opening in the wall in the carport, which is where I also have four Styrofoam shelters.  I’ve rescued a ton of cats from here.

Next is just around the corner, behind a grocery store.  There are rats.  Its disgusting.  I was feeding a black and white cat for over a year here, and a month or so ago, I set a trap for him/her thinking it was pregnant, but it never fell for the trap.  And now, I haven’t seen kitty for several weeks.  I do see cat prints in the snow, so at least some cat is eating.  It’s a nice shelter – one wood, two plastic totes covered in tarp. Secure.

 

Paddy from Parsells

Just around the corner from there is my first Parsells spot.  I’ve rescued tons and tons of cats here also.  My little Skinny Minnie came from here.  Wait!  So did Popcorn!  And Poptart!  There are so many sweeties here.  This is a few houses down from Crazy Lisa.  I feed on the porch here of this vacant house, and have maybe five plastic and Styrofoam huts, under a board and tarp.

 

Polly from Parsells

Next Parsells is where there have been at least 15 cats huddled around waiting for the food to be poured.  The porch of this vacant house has been purchased by someone who has been removing the paper plates I lay down for these starving cats nearly every day now.  The last storm we had, three or so weeks ago on a Saturday (when I rescued Saroo, and poor Scooter – may he rest in peace), all my shelters were tossed to the curb, leaving these cats with NOTHING.  I’ve since moved them to the side of the house next door, and they have remained there, until the landlord pays a visit and removes them.  I will have NOTHING here.  The cats will have NOTHING.  I don’t know what I will do.  This is where I rescued Parsley!  (and a ton more).

Next is Garson.  This is where George still is, who is ready to be rescued.  There are about …  six other cats?  Mostly from the same family, mostly tabbies, one or two blackies, and Max, the neighbor’s cat that he started letting out due to spraying.  Max is a nice cat.  I need to do more TNR here – the shelters are good as they are blocked by the garage which the shelters are placed next to during the storms and winds we have from the west.  I say the shelters are good – they are disgusting (old), but the straw is changed once a year maybe.  This is their home though.  They hear me making the kissy sound when I am walking towards them at the back of this long lot.  This was a tough lot to walk through the two days we had all that snow.  I was nearly dead by the time I got back there.

 

Bacardi

Next is Ferndale Crescent, where so many poor sweet babies have been rescued.  All sickly and malnourished.  This is where I rescued Bacardi from last year.  This is where the kitty with the chicken bone stuck in his jaw was, this is where the other kitty was hit by a car.   This is where Crazy Maryleigh lives.  Haven’t seen her in over a year, but I got wind that she wrote the police department a long diatribe about the cats, me, and so much other jumbled stuff.  I didn’t think she was still alive, to be honest, she was such a thorn in my side two summers ago, if you recall.  My shelter is against a vacant home, the prior owners had given me permission to feed there – there are three shelters under a board with a tarp covering it.  I see a calico run from the shelter daily when I arrive.

This is what I call the end of the first nine.  Golf term.  By now, its 4:29 am., on a good day.  I have it all down pat.  My food, my time.  Sheryl described me perfectly in her guest blog last week.

 I then cross over Goodman street and finish off the rest.   By now I am thinking – I have 10 more shelters to visit, with an average of 5 kitties per spot.

I will now end this as I need to get myself into work, and be thankful for another day.  J

Have a great one!

"You must not lose faith in humanity. Humanity is an ocean; if a few drops of the ocean are dirty, the ocean does not become dirty."