Thursday, March 4, 2010

Now about the rescues...

It was, and is, still my mother's fault, and I love her for it.  From the time I was small and aware of my surroundings, my mother was 'being found' by a stray cat.  My father, who was always away on a ship in the Navy, never believed her. Though they never had more than one cat at a time, there was always a cat present and accounted for.  Both of them lived by "You can't save the world, but you most certainly can save your very own corner of it."

When I moved out on my own, my first possession would be a cat. Not a fancy furred, highly expensive show cat.  A rescue from the local shelter. When he passed after 22 years of sharing unconditional love, I got another. One cat at a time, from the local shelter in the area I was living when death struck and I lost a cat to old age or incurable disease.

In 2003 something changed, and not for the better, for animals in general, but in our case, cats (and a bird with one foot, but she would come later...).   My son came home from work one night and put a tiny, long-haired, fluffy, flea infested five week old kitten on the floor and said, "He came out from under a barn, and was all alone."   Well, there it was, all black with a white spot on his chest, marching around the living room already acting like he owned the place.   Our cat in residence came into the room to see what the commotion was about, took one  look at the kitten, a long thoughtful look, hissed one really long how did you get in here hiss, and wandered off to have a snack.  We named him F. Spot Fitzgerald. Roman had a brother....


  1. Hi, thank you for your comment on my blog.I have enjoyed reading yours.

  2. Hi, Thank You its people like you, that have the courage I saw in your blog, that keeps me going, and maintains my faith in humanity in general.

    And I am afraid reading is the ony thing my blog affords until I figure out the columns and pictures thingys!

    In the mean time, the cat farm awaits feeding!

  3. Your mother, you, your son. The one perfect trait to pass on.

  4. Thank you Jerry, but theres the daughter as well, sigh. She has the disease as well, we tend to think of it as 'terminal empathy...' Thusfar her rescues are four cockatiels, one parakeet, one feral cat (now 15 and really cranky), and two ferrets. Each one a horrible story of abandonment in its various forms, enough to make one wonder what is happening to humanity in general.

    World Peace is a silly unattainable goal, my missiono is to prode those not otherwis inclined to save 'their own little corner.'

    Its a plan anyway!

  5. I already liked you. Now I see that are a cat person, especially a "rescue" cat person, I like you even more! You get lots of good karma points for doing those things.
    We currently have three of them, all rescues and have had others. My wife is really involved in a dog and cat rescue group.