Postastic today.

Vet just called.  Ophelia is a boy.  He is wild, wild, wild, and most likely too old to tame indoors.  The vet was not hopeful.  He is not neutered so was most likely born feral.  He is disease free.  He is 3 years old or thereabouts. 

We are going to do the following:

• Ear tip (ouch but important to let other rescuers know that I have neutered him)
• Neuter
• Vaccines this one time for rabies, distemper, and FIV, etc
• Release him back to my yard and continue feeding him when he comes around

I am going to pay for the vet bills and not let Campus Cats pay for it.  Merry Christmas

And I am going to adopt the little girl kitty that I fell in love with the other day.  

So much for a new mattress.  😉

Back in the days when I was much more active in my local SCA and after sweeping yellow jackets up into my skirts three weeks in a row, I decided to wear pants. The best “persona” for this was a Central Asian Steppes woman. Pants, shirts, vests, jackets, boots, coats, and hats. Ooooh, hats. I had a lot fun making these clothes and wearing them. One of the things about these hats is that they are fur brimmed. With one exception I made all of of mine with faux fur.

One day I was cruising through one of my local thriftstores and I found a fur collar. I think it’s silver fox. It was $15. And I was convinced that anything I might do with it would honor it more than hanging like that in a thrift store. It was beautiful. I bought it.

I made a hat. (pardon the yellow tinge from the camera, the fur is very silver and the wool is black with blue tassel)

I wore it once.  I really have a problem with fur.  It just offends me.  It is the only fur I own.  I feel that if we kill an animal to eat it we should use all of the animal and do it honor. I also feel that if we do something so atrocious as to kill an animal only for its fur, then we owe it honor 10 fold. 

The Beloved spent a long time with a group that helped animals cross over after death.  He stills does this on his own.  He contacted the fox that belongs to this fur and the fox told him that I should wear it.  But I’m still struggling.

What would YOU do?

Operation Rescue Ophelia went off without a hitch this morning. She was outside waiting for me this morning right under the living room window. *awwww* I put the cage out with food in the way I was instructed and hoped. She wanted that stinky food so badly. She tried to get at it from the outside with her paw and her mouth.  It was so sweet and I kept sending messages “other end kitty, other end.” But they were not received.

The cage is very long and narrow and she wasn’t figuring out that to get the food she needed to go inside from the end that was furthest from the food. After a brief grooming session she started to leave. So I did a quick prayer to Bast *finally* and grabbed the half full can and went back outside.

I laid a breadcrumb trail from the door to the food at the end. She came back and immediately ate the food closest to the door, she’d seen me put it there. And then a couple inches in she ate the next one. And then a couple more inches she ate the next one. I saw her paw go down on the trigger et voila!

And boy did she freak out. Very upset.  I went out with my towel to cover the cage and she hissed and thrashed but quieted down almost immediately with the towel over her. Got the cage to the car and in the process wrenched my back. The cage is big, she is heavy (yay!) and was struggling and ow. Got her in the car, covered her with a sheet and she was quiet the entire ride to the vet. I sang and talked to her of course and I think recognizing my voice helped her.

When we got to the vet she didn’t struggle hardly at all so I got her inside and checked in. I’ll know by 2 which way we need to go with this. She got her nose banged up a bit in her struggles but I’m hopeful. More prayers to Bast with a promise to add her to my daily devotions. She requested a statue so will need to do that too.

The prayer of the day is that the kitty has no contagious diseases that would force me to have her put to sleep. If she gets a clean bill of health, I go to pick up the indoor cage tonight and we begin the process of adjustment to being an indoor cat.  If, after a week, we haven’t made the adjustment, she gets her shots and returned to the yard where I will continue to feed her.  Please oh please

During the heyday of samurai culture, the Japanese word tsuji-giri meant “to try out a new sword on a passer-by.” After analyzing your astrological omens, Cancerian, I’m appealing to you not to commit the metaphorical equivalent of that in the coming week. Here’s what I mean: You’ve got good reasons to use the metaphorical equivalent of a new sword, and you will wreak some constructive havoc if you direct your warrior attitude at the right targets. But if, on the other hand, you carelessly slice and dice passers-by and other innocents who don’t deserve it, you’ll waste that valuable resource and won’t correct the problems that have piqued your sense of injustice.

Well. My sword is definitely aimed one target. Not with intent to kill, but to get attention and hopefully resolution. We shall see how that works out. Mostly it is a sword of appeal and there are no ultimatums. Just hope the appeal is heard and responded to in a positive manner.

That has absolutely nothing to do with the Cat Lady but on Wednesdays I tend to post my horoscope and it is, once again, spot on with something I’m working through.

On to the cat lady.

Vixen. Soft as baby duck down and hard as nails.

As you know I’ve been feeding a stray cat. Winter is coming and it concerns me greatly. That and the bruiser who sometimes attacks the other cats in the area.

There is a woman I am acquainted with here on campus who runs a charity, Friends of Campus Cats. She and I started talking about 10 days ago. I visited her home last night. She has graciously lent me a friendly trap and shown me how to use it. Campus Cats will pay for a  vet visit and blood tests. She will loan me a big cage where the new cat can rest in my home quietly without interaction between her and my current kitty Miss Mitty. I have stinky cat food. I have flannel sheets. The vet is called and on standby so I can take the cat there immediately. All that is left now is to trap the poor thing.

I plan on laying the trap every weekday morning when I feed her/him. This way I can get the cat to the vet and drop it off and go to work and come back later. And not hit them on a busy Saturday. The cat currently comes 80% of the time when I call at meal times so I’m hopeful.

Oh, on to the cat lady.

This woman is no nonsense. She don’t mess around. And she has given all of her life to rescuing cats. The first thing you notice when you walk into her home is the smell. Second you notice that there are cats everywhere. Cat hair everywhere. But the littler boxes are clean. You just can’t hide the fact , smell or otherwise, that there are at least 8 cats in the living room lounging around with another in a big cage while it gets tested. More cats start appearing because they hear a new voice. 5 more cats. And then there is her bedroom where there are more cats who, for one reason or another, are sequestered. For instance one of these cats has a motor coordination illness and while she can roll around on the bed, she can not walk or stand. Affectionate as all get out she rolls around with her paws every which way.

As you sit and listen to the cat lady’s story and meet the cats that aren’t too afraid you notice that everything is old and very worn. There are no accessories anywhere in the house. The walls are bare of anything other than evidence that the cats rub on it. There are clean litter boxes everywhere. I know that she cleans them every night. She has too. She is lucky she owns her own home. No one would rent to her. I didn’t ask if she had a permit, she may not. And I don’t care. She has given her life to these precious animals and has brought them back from fear and an early death. One only allowed petting this past month after 4 years in the home. Emotionally damaged animals who clearly all love her. And she them.

The other night while talking on the phone with The Beloved about my stray, the name Ophelia just popped into my head. So for now we are calling the stray Ophelia. Not the best sane long life reference but there it is. If Ophelia tests positive for any of the deadly cat diseases, we will have to put her down. To have her in our homes with our cats isn’t an option and to release her back into the neighborhood to infect other cats and die a horrible death herself isn’t an option either. I’m working on manifesting good health results for Ophelia.

But I decided last night that if I can’t keep Ophelia for any reason, I am using some of this money to pay another pet fee (non-refundable) and adopting one of these cats. There was one, all black with a 3″ tail that really took a liking to me. All over me really. And the cat lady was astonished. That cat won’t go near anyone she says. I’ve started bonding with it already. I wish I didn’t have to choose but I just can’t do three cats. But the cat lady inspired me with her dedication and love. And I’m going to spend far less on a mattress than planned so that I can take one cat in.

I’ve also gone online and upped my monthly payroll deduction to this charity. Here at the U, our fund drive takes our donations out of our paychecks over the course of a year. This charity is going to get my extra money this year.

If you live in the Seattle area and can take in another cat, I know where there are a whole lot of really needy cats that need a home. Whiskey Whisker City (god I’m such an alcoholic I even type like a drunk) is where I got Miss Mitty from and I donate to them monthly too.

Both places are great causes too. They are always open to donations if you are open to giving.

That’s my soapbox for the day.

So on Black Friday I went to the mall. I know, wtf was I thinking? I didn’t buy one thing and fled pretty quickly. But not after going to Nordstrom to scout out shoes. I’ve been needing to replace my faithful Dansko walking clogs for some time. They are 5 years old, have walked the streets of Paris and the siege camp of Vercingetorix and look like it. I try to shine them up now and then but the wear on the sole is getting bad.

I’ve been in the market for new shoes that I would love as much as those and so far, while I’ve found a pair here and there, I’ve found nothing that I loved that I could afford. So I knew I wanted a new pair of shoes. And I did get a new pair of black Dankso’s. They aren’t the sport clogs I love, evidently they don’t make those any more, but they will do. I have had many Danskos in my lifetime.

But I found a pair of shoes that speaks to my soul on so many levels. And the sole? Is recycled rubber. They only use natural dyes for their leather which is not treated with chrome either. And are they cute? Yes.  Oh! And they infuse the rubber with tea tree oil.  Can I smell them? Yes, yes I can.  mmmmm.

I’m in love with their Elfos style as well but haven’t found it locally.