I have been busy the last couple of years raising these treasures I have, working a full time job and  keeping house for FANG.  We have lost a few since the last I posted.  Elvis and Mittens had a batch of kittens.  Jill Scarlet and Chief lived through kitten-hood and grace my messy house with cat song and frivolity.  Although last year Elvis and Mittens decided to elope.  One day here, the next day, gone !  They were so much in love.  He would cuddle up on the rocking chair with her and lay over her as if to protect her while they slept.  He would sing to her, she would rub all over him.  I hope they are well.  We lost Elvis' sister, Cleatus.  She finally sucumbed to the birth defects that plagued that litter.  Their sister, Betty, was lost to us when she was 6 months old.  She brought us to the most wonderful Vet in our town.  He was so caring and compassionate  to ALL our cats.  He once thanked us for taking on the responsibility of caring for such a huge colany of cats.   I thanked him for giving Cleatus a pain free and comfortable last few hours of her life.

Jackson walked into our lives on day when he and Mittens perched on the edge of the cat door and gazed into the huge kitchen.  Spike was there behind him, urging him to take the leap of faith and join our indoor family.   He has been such a treasure to us.  Jackson took a shine to Jill Scarlet, (Mittens' kitten) and they are inseparable.  He is HUGE now!  He weighs in at about 13 pounds with a head the size of a grapefruit!  I can't seem to get near him, but Fang can play endlessly with him.  

I have more fun with these personalities than would be expected from 14 cats.  My house still smells and I scold and cudjole them when things aren't done where they should, but I am happy.  Fang took a vacation for awhile and they have been my world.

I'm off to bed now with at least 5 cats spread out so that I can't get any sleep.

HUGS!

Labor Day 2014... We have spent the entire weekend lounging around my bedroom watching movies and eating. EATING! EVERYTHING in SIGHT! Fang came home Friday night to a house full of pussies. The little ones have definitely fit into our daily activities to the point that they all  have learned to crawl up the blankets to my bed and I have found them most afternoons spread out enjoying the sofness of MY pillows! CAT FUR EVERYWHERE! (I know - close the bedroom door when you leave)

OneEye has been re-names Hooker due to the slight slant to her white mark between her eyes. She love belly rubs and hates eye ointment treatments. The entire crowd has developed allergies this summer season. The vet says its because of NO rain and lots of  "stuff" floating around in the air.  I have even noticed an increase in eye discomfort. I was able to get this shot of Ophra before she disappeared. It clearly shows the hole in her head where someone or something took a huge hunk of her with them. Even though the old girl would hiss and spit every time you even stepped out onto the back porch, I miss her.

She was not doing well here but I could not get near her to check her out. 

I need happier thoughts.  

I was sitting at the table in the living room that I use for my sewing and something caught my eye. This is Hollywood, who found herself a comfortable spot in my bag. She has curled herself up entirely to fit into the confines of the tote I made to carry lunch and thermos to work. 

Time to curl up with a few cats and sleep. Well, as much as I can with two that love to lay ON my feet and not on the bed. Someone usually gets vaulted over the bed every night due to flinging covers!

Night All!

So, I was thinking, as I drove the 25 minutes to work today, that I just might want to move back to my home town in the Midwest, get a job at the local hospital and retire there. I would be closer to my children and grand children. I would be able to spend holidays and birthdays and babysit them for occasional Parent's Night Out activities. It was a wonderful 5 minutes of contemplation, until I remembered what actually HAPPENS in the Midwest, especially during the winter.  (You must understand, before I go any further, that I live in southern California. REAL SOUTHERN. I can spit and hit Tijuana).
 I spent the majority of my early adult life above the 45th Parallel. This meant months of no sun. dreary, bleak months that dragged on from one ice storm to the other with occasional breaches of daylight. Grey was the NEW white. If you could see the car in front of you at 25 miles an hour it was a good day for a drive. My little 25 minute drive to work here would be an all day ordeal back there. I remembered the tale of Melissa who was scheduled to work at 8 AM. As she told it, the snow plow had made its singular path down her road early in the morning before what was considered a sunrise there. Her thoughts were that by daylight she could examine the conditions and make a sound estimation of the roadway. What she did not consider was the  angle of her driveway. I've been to Melissa's house and it is no easy feat to navigate its steep path to the roadway above. So, eager to make it to work on time and with no more brains than the cold cup of coffee in the Marathon gas travel mug sitting on the counter, forgotten, she slid into her mukluk boots, donned her winter parka with its fur lined hood,which she secured snugly around her neck with a home made scarf knitted by grandma some years ago and trudged to the cold dark garage.

The garage door was frozen fast to the cement floor, its rubber glistening in the stark blue light of the one overhead neon lamp. Several tugs at the handle proved the door would not budge. Oh help us, an idea was forming in her blond, empty little head. Into the car she dove, settled herself securely into the seat belt and inserted the key into the ignition. I haven't a clue why this seemed a reasonable idea for her, but she turned the key, slid the car into reverse gunned the gas. As she told it, she was just going to nudge the door a bit. You know, just a little jiggle to get it loose from the ice. In reality what ensued had to be the most hilarious sight so far! Melissa rocketed out of the garage, ripping the door completely off its track and onto the snow of the driveway. This was not the end. With Grandma's scarf tied tight around her neck the only thing she saw when looking backwards was the passenger side door and the landscape careening past the window. The car shot out of the garage, over the garage door, down the now snow covered drive way and up over the first snowbank made by the previous plow. AH! job well done! except for the slight misjudgment made when applying the brakes.  It is a very helpless feeling, when applying the braking system, you realize that the car simply won't stop. It careened gracefully up over the raised roadway and down the other side. Melissa found herself gazing up at an awkward angle into the morning sky with no roadway in sight, the car buried up to its back doors in the snow.
Now why do I bring up this uncomfortable memory? For the very reason why I live in Southern California.  Who IN THEIR RIGHT MIND would live in weather conditions that are not conducive to shorts, flip flops and a beach towel?  Like I said right off, it was a wonderful 5 minutes of contemplation, followed by 20 minutes of WHAT WAS I THINKING!!!

Morning All !
OneEye's surgery went well. She has a slightly deformed eye lid now but can focus both eyes and they are bright and clear!  We did the full week of antibiotics and eye drops for all three kittens with no complications. They lived in the bathroom and loved the little "bomb shelter" hole under the towel cabinet to play in and hide. Bathing them was no torment. They seemed to like the water. Momma Spike would stand at the door of the kitchen and look in, with her crossed eyes and that long white slash of white hair in between. I never know if its just the slightly off center placing of her white stripe or if she is actually cross eyed. You look at her straight on and you want to lean to the left somehow.

She has taken to wandering into the house in the morning. Big Daddy Popeye has ventured through the cat door once, but prefers to just look in and glare at us. Almost as if to say " FEED ME, asshole!" Her sibling, Boots, comes in also but does not stay beyond a curious look around the kitchen door at the group here in the living room.

Oprah has gone. I noticed a definite sense of curious adventure crop up since then. this wandering thing only started after she left. Was she telling them stories about the evil big people that lived in the house? Do cats communicate the way people do? What would they say about us in general? Are we really a group of ignorant slobs? Are THEY really THAT arrogantly stand-off-ish? Cats are so weird!

Surgery day for One-Eyed Hooker

Little One-Eye goes in today for a small surgery to open her eye. I haven't fed them yet because of it and they look at me so longingly.  Well, except for Jackson, who glares and Meows as best he can with his little undeveloped squeaker of a voice.  Ringer has gotten quite ski-dish since being to the doctor. I do not think she likes all this attention. She hasn't gotten a bath yet, so I have  that to look forward to tonight. They are so thin it is scary. Having gone through a traumatic time with Betty, I worry so about Jackson and One-Eye. They aren't wormed yet so if this eye/respiratory thing clears up that will be the next major event in their lives.
The indoor/outdoor house cats have adapted to the new foundlings. They wander in and out through the back door now that the kittens are on the back porch and NOT right there next to their entrance.  Momma Spike hovers around the cage and the two other kittens sleep next to it.  Five more days of medicine and they will be able to run free again.
Oprah has not come home. I fear the worse.

Oprah, the original cat, showed up last week with one very ugly wound to her head. She usually would not let anybody get within 5 feet of her and NEVER came into the house. This day she was sitting in my kitchen. Her head had bare skin spots with red pokes in them. I assumed she had gotten into a nasty brawl with something. I slid the food bowl closer to her and she ate, meowed at me, then left. What an odd happening?!  I saw her two time more after this little morning conversation we had, but no more after that. My fears are that she wandered off somewhere to die. Blessed old cat, all black and full of spit and vinegar.

She gave us three more kittens. One has an eye that is not opening, one is to thin and they all are sneezing. So with the help of dear Fang, I am off to see the doctor with them. I suspect some sort of upper respiratory infection and a good antibiotic regimen will help. The thin one has me worried because he is acting similar to how Betty did. This little guy decided he was going to be an indoor cat, so he tromped himself in one morning and has been accepted by the crowd. Its odd because I almost feel that this little kitten has been in the house before through one of the other cats that have passed on. I don't know, maybe it is Betty in another life.  But watching him follow Fang around the house is such a delight.

Half the year is gone already!

Morning world!
I should open this blog up to the world and allow them to see the collection of angels I have living in and around my little dump. We found 6 more kittens in the back yard last week. Three each from two litters. So, we welcome Little Spike, Little Grey and Grey Spike, Ritzy, Mitzy and Boomer to our world.

These are the original cats that I found under the ivy in 2011. Three years old and stretched out ready to watch a movie with mommy. I have no life beyond work and these little treasures, oh and FANG! He keeps me going and these guys keep me living for the next day.
Oprah gave us three more outside kittens, but has moved them to someplace where they do not come into the yard anymore. Her offspring, Spike, gave us three also. We have Little Grey, Little Spike and Grey Spike, the two grey ones act rather lazy-ish like Betty did and I worry that we may have to go through another trauma. I feed them every day and provide water for them. It goes where it goes.

Down to 12 cats

We lost little Betty in June. She never really seemed "right". I would watch her just sit in the middle of the floor and stare, almost as if she really couldn't see. She never took any interest in grooming like the others. When you would pick her  up she drooped over your hand and would seem to almost fold in half with no fight in her.  We weighed her once and at 8 months she was still only 3.5 pounds.  One morning we found her laying prone under the space heater. Fang was alarmed, I cried. The next day she was worse. He scooped her up in his big grisly hands, his shaky voice whispering soothing sounds into her fur.   I drove to the vet.  Many suggestions and a couple of  X-rays later we still had no clue what was wrong with her. We took her home with a prescription and laid her in a cage with towels all around, she would not move. Her momma and daddy slipped into the cage after awhile and sat with her. That night she died. 
Sometimes I think cats are holding places for the spirits of those moving through this existence. You've heard me say this before, people live in cats. I really feel Betty was a holding place for a life force that hadn't found its beginning yet.
It still doesn't take the hurt and sadness away. It only offers a reason.

Happy Friday !

I write to get things off my chest. Stuff that used to go into reams of notebook paper that I've saved for some ungodly reason. Now, its typing on a white screen and with the click of a button,  its posted to nobody.  Just hanging out  there somewhere in cyberspace, collecting cosmic dust.

I live for fridays. I love the feeling of having done a weeks worth of work, having accomplished something, anything or sometimes nothing, and knowing I have the next two days to just do what I want.  I think I will plant a garden this weekend.

Peace Out!

attempt at being "social"

Hello World!
I was approached by my youngest daughter with the idea that I should join a Group. She was concerned that I may not be socializing as much as she felt was appropriate. Now, I've never  been one to gather like some people are. Those that seem to have several friends hovering over them tend to just scratch me the wrong way. I am a social misfit. I know this about myself. I do not feel comfortable with large crowds or even family gatherings for that matter. Sometimes I say and do stupid stuff and it usually bothers me for years after. Mental garbage is my term for such foolery. Anyhow, back to the story. She suggested this www.meetup.com as a place to find friends of similiar interest. I went there. I found mommy groups and hiking groups and wine groups. There were book clubs and social clubs and dog lover clubs, cat lover clubs, internet start up clubs and a plethora of entraperneural groups.  Spiritual Enlightenment was hilarous!  I have to wonder what these people DO at those groups meetings? Contort their bodies into unimaginable positions and hum mantras?  For me that would be a three day regime of high-dose Motrin and a heating pad. NOT MY CUP OF TEA!!!  NO sewing groups or crafting groups of any sort. ( I'm not into knitting so that is definitely OUT)
I looked, that is the best I could offer her. I will stick to my sewing and my little yard. Happily dreaming of the house I may some day own with its little white picket fence, porch and gardens. It makes me happy.

Plastic People

Hi ALL!
 Its not so bad being the "odd man out", "fifth wheel", "socially inept". I have the rare oppertunity to look at what is normal to the plastic people and choose NOT to be like them. Yes, I am a people watcher. I notice those odd men out of society. Those who wear their black socks with funky sandals and plaid shorts. Those who tuck their polo shirts into their shorts and wear weird hats. California is filled with these types, but society deems them unacceptable. So they slide through the crowds as fillers. The 47% that try to keep the plastic people (wealthy and barbie type) from tumbling. Have you ever watched "Housewives of Orange County"? Those are plastic people. I certainly do not want to be that type of person. Are we being told by the marketing exec's and programing specialists that THIS is what we want? An hour glass shape, stingy hair and puffed up pouty lips? I would like to see more shows like "Honey BO BO" where REAL people are living their lives the way real people live. Who has that kind of money to drive expensive cars and have lunches out every day and a shop till you drop lifestyle?  Give me the show that has people driving an hour to work through nasty traffic to sit and answer phones, solve minor employee squabbles, flip burgers or empty someones garbage bins. THATS REAL PEOPLE of Orange County! That guy who comes into the department at 4pm every day to empty the trash and clean the bathrooms, who goes to school full time, has a second job after this one, who trys to make ends meet while bettering his own knowledge. Give me those people any day! The "odd men out"! 

I'll shut up now.

Rosie

Oh Dear! another kitten!

UPDATE! Good morning Cyber world. I still do not have ANY furniture in my house that posesses softness or fabric. These little heathens have made it impossible to own a CHAIR!  I must find some sort of piece that is wood and does not allow for squatting because Wishbone refuses to use the catbox.
Last week the "middlings" had a visit to the doctors for the fix. We thought maybe Conner got one of the females so I rushed the appointment just incase another litter was on its way. This was premature as Conner turned out to be Connie! MY BAD>>>>
We only have 5 left to fix and then they all will be acclimated to the outdoors. Slowly as none of them have ever been beyond the front door.
OH! we were blessed with another kitten two days ago. FANG had carted off the two female cats in the back yard and the black one CAME BACK! She dropped a litter around St. Patricks day but we could not find where. Two days ago I heard squeeking in the ivy. FANG went searching and found one little kitten in a nice safe spot. We left it alone this time and waited. Around 11PM it started whining, I listened to that little voice until 330 AM. By 515AM I had enough and woke FANG.... he found the little thing laying on its side, cold, and near death. We simply could NOT leave it there. He spent the day in a heating pad on FANGS chest, took about a half ounce of water and started to come back to us. By the end of my work day Precious had taken some formula and was lively as he should be again. He is doing quite well now. FANG bought him is own little carrier and little stuffed toy and he goes where ever FANG goes.
I am of the firm belief that the human spirit does not reside in only one body. I believe that the soul moves on at death to another form. When you look into the eyes of these cats you see the essence of a human  life looking back at you. Cutie looks at you with the eyes of an innocent little girl. Loki, the mischief of a defient boy. Buster, the wisdom of an old man. I may be going off the deap end a bit but if you look closely you can see the continuation of life at its essance.

UPDATE: Little kittie did not make it. He died a week later. We think he was blind. So sad ;(

UPDATE 11/5/2012
I somehow aquired another litter of kittens from this crew of odd-ball tuxedos. Three little balls of fur named Cleatus,Wishbone and Betty. They are all of 4 weeks old and the same black and white like the rest. Each with a distinctive personality that sets them apart from all the other cats in this colony. Betty got caught in the slamming of a door yesterday and nearly killed. Poor Fang was beside himself because of his bad habit of walking thru a door and swinging it shut with the force of SANDY the hurricaine. Betty squealed something aweful and big biker FANG was right in there squealing with her. I picked her up off the floor and felt her legs and arms. She had dislocated a shoulder, hurt her back leg and was NOT well. With a little gentle rubbing and tugging I got her shoulder back into place ( Peanut's leg had slipped out of place, so I knew what to do. But thats another story). Little Betty fell limp in my hands. Fang moaned and paces infront of me as I masaged her little body, tucking her close to my chest for warmth. She had passed out. I can imagine the pain was beyond bearing for such a small creature. Her little ewok eyes opened again and she held her head up to mine. She would be okay. I handed her to Fang who cuddled her to this beard and whispered apologys and endearments to her little black head, stroking her furry back. What an odd sight. This giant of a man all tough and hard with his "leave me alone" attitude and "biker without a cause" image cuddling this black ball no bigger than his hand. Tears streaming down his face. I was stuck with a sense of fragility in him. Someone had hurt him in his life and I had glimsed his pain.  Betty stayed with him most of the evening. I had no qualms about a cat on his chest as he lay there on the bed watching some mundane political commentary show. He needed that connection and I needed to be reassured she would survive the night. All is well in the world again. But maybe he will have learned his lesson about slamming doors. Lets just see if this sunk in?!

The kitties are a year old this week and yesterday they went in to get fixed. I have never dealt with a pushier bunch of women than the people at (name of organization). When I say NO I MEAN NO. Im not going to let three overbearing drama queen women get inbetween me and my man like this whole group have done. All over the 5 remaining outside cats. Lets keep this in perspective and stop the ranting on how the cat over population is in Ventura County. CATS DO THAT! Its their job.  Enough about pushy old rich-bitch brawds from fantacy land.
The kitties weathered the surgery well. Wussie got fixed to, so she wont be giving us any more suprises by sneaking out for any more one night stands with the alley cats of the neighborhood. For anyone who is with the organization that helped with the funding of this weeks surgerys, more  power to ya, just stop harassing ME. Thank you.

5 months old ...

Well, they are now 5 months old and I have found nice homes for two of the little beasties! Charlie Manson and OJ went to two women from work that love male black cats. I am left with three females and one very strong willed male. They have managed to tear up my nice white chair to shreds and destroy one curtain. I still love them, even though one can not walk a straight line without drop kicking one or two into the next room. ANYBODY want a cat??? I simply can not keep all of them and Psycho kittie ( who has already escaped the house twice for long night jaunts around the neighborhood)...

8 weeks old and looking for good homes

Its been a while since I last entered anything here. Between a full 40 hours a week job and these little kitties, I have been a busy lady. They made it through the tough part of being a kitten in that they survived the formula and daily bathings. We managed the transition to solid food with only two being stubborn and refusing the bowl. But, a little persuasion and some patience and they all took to solids well. Each has their own little personalities and at times it can cause a noisy bit of fun! Halfpint doesnt like others near him when he eats, so he will bully the rest with growls and literally laying IN the food bowl. He gets the cage until the rest are through eating. Charlie finially grew big enough to NOT slip thru the bars of the cage we bought for them. He has taken a liking to Psycho-kittie, the first of our rescue cats. She has adopted all 6 of them as her own and will call for them when feels any threat. She took off out the back door the other night after one of the "outside kitties". We had to help her find the back door by using a flashlight and her favorite game of "wheres the light now". She got into the house and immediately gathered the 6 around her, sniffing and licking each one.
My darling Fang did the same thing I did with the two remaining outside-kitties from this litter. He was out there today at the washing machine and turned to see two little bundles on the porch. He scooped them up thinking " how did you guys get out here?" and tossed them through the kitchen door. All hell broke loose. Psycho-kittie went after the first with claws blazing! She drove this poor scared black one right behind the refrigerator and would not let her go. We had to use a broom to shoo her off and lock her in  our bedroom so that we could somehow maneuver the black outside kittie to the door. It worked and both babies were fine. Now Psycho-kittie has never shown that kind of fierce defensiveness to anything but Fang's hand and it was suprising to see her display this to another cat.
Well, I will post new pics of the little ones here and stop rambling!
Peace Out!
Cat Lady of 4th Street

Day #9

What a little family we have accumulated.

What have I gotten myself into?

Hi, I came home from work last Tuesday to what sounded like little birds in the trees in the backyard. The kids next door were out and making a ruccus so I went to investigate. They are somewhat distructive in nature as all kids can be, so I was certain something had been disturbed. What I found was heartbreaking. Four little kittens scattered across a 3 foot area under the Ivy vines that were no bigger than the palm of my hand. I simply could not just leave them there in the dirt to cry until dead. I took them inside, placed them in a wicker basket with lots of towels and called Fang for advise. (okay, side-note: Fang - AKA - the boyfriend) We made a mad dash to Petco when he got home for bottles and milk replacer. He may want to be a big tough guy, but deep down under that " I dont care" attitude is a huge soft heart. We fed them in the car in the parking lot of Petco and it took a bit to coax them to take the bottle. He was so patient with the little things. They looked so small in his huge hands as he gently wiped the formula from their little mouths. I felt better knowing that these little lives were safe and warm. We fed them, bathed them and did all the stuff that Dr. Google said to do on the subject of raising abandoned kittens. They settled into a comfortable rythum of life and often had to be woken up to feed. Now I tell you this because on Day#6 of my adventure into CatLady of 4th Street my darling Fang took all 4 kitties to his work out of town. I waved goodbye to him, stepped into my little shack of a house and heard kittie crys. Phantom crys? I thought to myself... no, the noise was coming from under the bathroom sink? I found 2 more babies the same size as our 4 screaming under the waterheater on the side of the house. I simply could not let them scream so I took them. My thought was if I take them and raise them I can find homes for the little ones. It would be better than allowing the herd of 6 run free over the neighborhood as feral cats. We already have two litters from strays in the neighborhood. So, 6 kitties, lots of love and many pictures!! I will keep you posted on their little lives. We will start as Day#7, peace out!