Cat Visit to Victoria RSPCA: New friends and plots of global domination

On Sunday, with postcards done, we headed over to the Victoria RSPCA for our 'treat' of playing with the cats. Nothing like a purring cat in the lap for a bit of better. There were some new additions and some adoptions. One new addition drew me, maybe because this is how I think I might be if I was a cat (but the cat is less neurotic).

Here are Pickles and Mango, who act like twins and are intelligent to the point of scary (or as Cheryl says, ‘With the TWO of them, they will figure out how to use the can opener!”). You know that secret language that twins have, well these two have it as well and they don’t meow but they are talking to each other all the time. Pickles on the right seems the ‘brains’ while Mango is more active but together....watch out. Splitting them up would be a crime since they are so good together, but imagine waking up to the steady fascinating and silent looks from these two in the morning. The question isn’t, “Am I being trained?” but “Am I being trained as a pawn for cat’s world domination?” Pickles definately has that "Once I was the pupil but now I am the MASTER!" look going. That's what I'd want to be as a cat.

We gave them a mouse to play with and Mango enjoyed playing with it, including Standing on the hind legs and bringing it up with both paws face upward for a taste. Is that normal? It is like someone tasting the wine at a restaurant. There was some wild playing while Pickles used the Cat telepathy to say, “It’s okay!” and kept a close watch on all the happenings. It ended with Mango having one foot on the ground, the other firmly on top of the ‘mouse’ (keeping it to play until later) and then grooming itself. These are lovely and fascinating cats and would certainly keep themselves occupied, but beware walking in on them while they are building the ‘Make the owner give me more treats now’ Ray gun.

What I found both heartening, disorienting and confusing was that all of the cats previously shown in my blogs were gone, regardless of time spent waiting for owners. Jasmine was adopted, that green eyed cat ‘who likes to express an opinion’ and likes to play with my finger and kill it (but not draw blood, like Harvey, who was also adopted), as well as try to steal my camera! These three cats, Jasper by the footplate and Thomas as the winner of the two shoving each other to determine who will have the prime spot under the wheelchair, even though they are black cats, ALL of them: adopted. Also Angel, the two year old white cat who loved to play and rub up against my hand and cute Rose, who always sat on my lap was also adopted. EVERY cat shown in the last post was adopted.

This cute faced cat who had two readers ready to adopt it, was adopted, even though there were still kittens left. And an orange tabby by the door, shown once in photos, who was in the same basket time after time, also adopted. As for Miracle, the grey cat that seemed to like high places and Linda’s breasts, it seems that someone else noticed Miracles’ good taste! I had noticed that 50% of the cats we showed, of the 4 or so I try to limit it to each time were adopted, which I thought was pretty good since most of them had been there months. But to have EVERY cat I had shown gone from the Victoria RSPCA even those who had been there for eight months? Was I a very lucky charm for cats? It made me feel bad I didn’t show the other cats, like the pure white one who couldn’t take snacks. But also, since it had been a couple weeks, it meant that my active memory was wiped out. I did not really know where I was, and felt a lot like I used to going to elementary school on the first day. I did not have a friend, I was not even sure where I was. This is just part of the condition, plus that loss of memory and the ability to remember medium and short term.

I looked into the kitten room and got a little bit angry. The last time the room had been teeming with kittens (literally 9 on one shelf), now there were kittens left and ALL of them were black. Over a dozen kittens and every single kitten was black. Now I understood why the woman who was an RSPCA officer didn’t like the kitten so much or the people who went there and never saw the ‘cat room.’ Because the reason people were getting the kitten was the ‘cute’ factor and when that kitten grew up and didn’t have huge eyes anymore, then back it would come, at a 50% return rate. The people weren’t there to commit to being pet owners, they were part of the ‘me’ generation treating animals as disposable toys.

Back in the cat room, there was at least one cat who wanted to get to know me and that was Carmen. They say ‘your cat chooses you’ and Carmen chose me. Carmen had a voice like a mix of Nina Simone and Tom Waites, in that it was distinctive. A low yowling rolling R would come out when she was happy and a slightly higher pitch would come out when she was unhappy. So sitting and petting Carmen makes you sound like you have a small cat sized nuclear device that is getting ready to blow. Carmen also had a sort of dower expression by nature, and Linda was like, “No, no, don’t smile, look grim” And then would say to Cheryl, “Look, they match, they match!”Linda is a little strange sometimes. We are not amused.

Carmen was fine for wheeling around in my lap but did not like being around other cats. In fact the type of cats who sit in my lap tend to be those who want a protected perch. If they feel safe, with my hand on them, then they are content to let me wheel about and stay on my lap, even to the point of when I would go down a couple inches bump like with Rose. I like these cats because they are like companions, real partners.

There was a black and white cute young cat named Hugges (who NAMES these cats?), who was listed as ‘kind natured’ which means LITTLE SHY. And was probably the reason she was not let out, due to being too timid around some of the really aggressive cats (there is one orange cat which is King Cat and actually scratches you from up on high if you don’t feed it treats, or feed it fast enough). Hugs liked to stay in the back of the cage but EVENTUALLY could be coaxed into coming down, however, it was like she had never done that before and was a little, um, experimental in trying to figure out how exactly one gets down. So I guess this stuff doesn’t exactly come naturally to cats, or at least not to this cat.

In our Victoria RSPCA beautiful cat of the week, this one was a winner. Sadly, I could not see the name, nor could Linda or Cheryl remember but it is a young cat, and an affectionate one, doing a lot of head rubbing and butting, curious and a color I am not sure what to call. But very pretty looking and a good companion for those who don’t always want to be playing the, “How do I stop Pickles and Mango from taking over the world TODAY?” game.
My time was up and we had to go until next week. I hope that tomorrow I can blog about the two farmers markets I visited and some pictures there. Plus I have blogs lined up on my calendar (where I keep blog ideas) so I might have to blog MORE, as long as my health allows. Onward!

Three new posts, a cat visit and a NEW postcard record!

92 Postcards! Can you say it with me, NINTY-TWO! Oh yeah, bring it down……90, 91 and 92! That is right, with Linda and Cheryl, I did 92 postcards this weekend (even though I had food poisoning!), posted Sunday evening - already heading out to YOU. AND I went on a cat visit. Ha! 92! Yes, I will admit I am a little proud after being sick for so long, to have a new record. Which means 250 postcards this month I hope. I hope.

What happened was that I was ill AGAIN, in fact I was ill every day this week and the only time I wasn’t was when I wrote that blog. Bowel Impaction, fevers, chills, overheating, shock – all the fun stuff. So I started after three days of trying, I started on Friday to match some postcards of people we hadn’t done in a while. And after the nap Linda helped me, and she goes, “Now you aren’t slipping in an extra page are you!”

Innocent look.

So we did four pages out of the 19 pages we now have and then we started to sticker. And Cheryl came and we stickered. And it was fun, we used up so many sticker and dover books of Japanese stickers, we were out of whole sections of stickers. The previous week we had done kids, 25 kids, but his week we did stickers and after the stickers Linda counted them (why?), I thought she would say 56 or 64. But no, it was NINTY TWO.

So we split them up and started stamping. And it didn’t take as long as we thought, just kept stamping, and stopped for dinner and stamped some more. I had a mini stroke and so if you get a postcard with the right side barely there or gone, that was me as I had no feeling or power on the right side. But I stamped some more and then they were all done. And I started writing.

I have a new post over on the The Postcard Project. I hope with the new cool in the weather I will energy to put posts up there every 10 to 14 days instead of once a month. But I am telling people to spread the news that you do not have to be in dire straits to get a postcard, all you need is to want something other than bills and junk mail coming in your mail box (or something nice for your kids). It is your choice. Personally, I like postcards now and then. So tell people to email me with the title Postcard and if you know anyone overseas or on ships, in active duty, or back here, or a vet who is just back, let me know and I will send a postcard, and another. I am nearing 2,500 postcards.

There is also a new post over at A Girl’s gotta Fly, which is asking people to let us know if you are still where you were (I mean, some addresses we got over a year ago, has anything changed)? We are asking because we are getting returns, and after spending so much effort, to have it returned when it COULD go to your new address is a bummer. Also, the way Linda words the blog, it gives the chance to be noble and go, “Oh, I don’t NEED a postcard like others and so you can take me off the list.” – that’s what I would say from the way she worded it. Well, here is the answer: NO! It is not like I am flying off to get my Noble Prize so I am too busy or doing my paid tour of Japan for BBC. I like doing postcards. I like sending YOU a postcard. If you don’t like the postcards I send you, tell me so I can send you ones you like. If you really don’t want post, then yeah, I’ll take you off the list. But please, let me choose how I use my energy. When I am ready to work full time on a book, the postcards will slow to a trickle for a while, and I will let you know. Until then; we have a summer, a fall and a start of winter, and the more it rains, and the more snow is threatened, the better it is to get a lifeline of fun from the outside world. Because that is what all this pain and isolation has stolen from me: FUN. And whismy, and shots of me in my panties. So I am going to get that back.

I had only 10 postcards left to write with over two hours left and so we went for the last 30 minutes at the Victoria RSPCA animal shelter (I did 92!). It was dark (they had turned off the lights) and it was HOT. These cats had fur and were hot, really hot. I mean, Jasmine would not even PLAY with me, but was sitting all prim and proper like it was adoption day and wanted to look her best (I guess it was). But for heat sitting very still works for me, and works for cats too.

We met up with some new cats, one of which was called Miracle and like HIGH places, so Linda went over and played with this gray cat. She said that’s what we need in our life, a little miracle.

I on the other hand started playing with a one to two year old white cat with ‘melt me like butter’ blue eyes. Yes, I know white cats CAN become deaf later in life but my parents have a perfectly white cat and it is not deaf or blind, just likes to eat and chase things. I found out it was called Angel. Hmmm.....is there a theme going on.

I also went to the outside area where I met some of the cats from last week, and while one was on my lap, Jasper was already trying to climb up my wheelchair. Linda says that I am ‘Snow White’ or ‘Sleeping Beauty’ the way all the animals seem to come to me. Errr…okay.

I did find Rose from last week, the one year old who liked to watch the play with Jasmine and I. I gave her some treats we brought this time and she stayed most of my visit in my lap. Not just as I rolled around, but also as I did the two inch drop backwards in my chair to get back inside. She gripped a little but never moved. Rose would be a perfect cat if you like a cat to go with you on your bike or maybe in your car, or on your wheelchair. She like the mobile and ‘up here’ view, and this time, as there were no other visitors, as she likes being petted, I could hear her purr. Very soft but steady, her purr goes on and on. To be honest, I was surprised that Rose had not been adopted. Why?

So FAR every time we come, we talk about four cats, and every time we come back, be it one week or two, half of the cats we talk about have been adopted, like Elizabeth was, and Murray and Betsie. So we went to look for that cute grey and peachy cat from last time, the one I showed to illustrate how people can’t tell the difference in black cats. Adopted. But that was it. Rose was still here! So I was at 25% for this week. What is going on?

Well, it seems that the shelter now has kittens, a whole pile of them, and I mean LITERALLY, we could see in the room but not go in as the kittens were piling over each other and walking around and exploring. I saw the RSPCA officer and asked her about the kittens and she went, “Ug, KITTENS!” in a ‘oh great!’ voice.

‘You don’t like kittens?’ I asked because it is sort of odd for someone to work for RSPCA and not like kittens.

She said, ‘Most people never get past that room, (the kitten room is closer to the front desk, you have to pass it to go to the cat area) and when you know 50% or more are coming back, when they could be giving homes to cats instead….’

I got it. I mean, after a while seeing the same people who instead of taking a cute 1 year old, or 2 year old who has been there 5 months, and giving it a home. They take a kitten, they come back and now the RSPCA has ANOTHER adult cat to find a home for. The cute cat I showed in last week’s blog that got adopted....it had been there eight months. Wow.

A lot of cats end which up in the Victoria RSPCA who are literally perfect pets and have been, like this cute cat, she was left here when the owners decided to move. Now she has to compete against kittens. And yet, a lovely, gentle two year old cat who is ready to go home.

Well with Jasmine not playing I looked for Harley but the cage was open and we figured that Harley had either bloodied another person or got in a fight and was in the recovery area. So no playing 'catch the finger and bite off the top' today.

Here is Linda playing with Miracle, who is very friendly and seems to be attracted to boobs. I was watching Miracle and thinking, a) I want to be a cat and b) can I share? Miracle had found a shady spot up top and wasn’t giving it up. I think this is a cat you would have to looking atop bookcases for. Here he is giving Linda a ‘cat kiss’ of a nose to nose.
As for me, I had gone back and was playing with Angel, who liked to play with a little mouse I had brought with me but more so liked to be stroked right on the jaw line, and on the cheeks (I don't know why I play with the cats in cages, maybe because I can identify, but I wish I could stroke her, but we make do). Angel is not only beautiful but very affectionate and about 2 years old, lively but in a sort of sedately regal way. Will play catch, or chase the mouse, once she has determined that is what you want. But after getting stroked on the jaw, Angel was in some sort of cat bliss.
Thomas, the black cat and Jasmine played the domination game for ‘who will sit under the wheelchair’ and Thomas won again. He looks so rigorous like some stern professor when he pushes the other cats to show he is in charge. I wanted to know…..now that you own the string, do you want to play? So I started twitching it and soon Thomas was showing a completely different side. Jumping and leaping, and standing on the back legs to get up at that evil twitchy string!

Well, the half hour was up and with Rose on my lap I rolled over to see Jasmine, who was still sitting in the ‘perfect poise’ position. I tempted with fingers, and finally twitched the camera strap and that did it. Jasmine was down my end of the cage with some mock play of catch and release. I took away the strap and used my fingers and she caught them too, after some licking. Here she is at the end of play time, my finger firmly caught, she can lay back, relax and cool back down.
As for Harley...we asked at the front as we were leaving and they say, “Yeah, he got adopted.” ADOPTED? HARLEY? Apparently he had been left in the shelter because he had a extreme habit of beheading all the birds of the surrounding area. So I was right. And I found it odd that the same cat that liked to ‘play rough’ got adopted in the week. But yes, turns out that 2 of the four from last week were adopted, the cute pink kitty and …HARLEY. So I am still at 50% adoption per visit. I can’t explain it but I am going to keep visiting. We figured some guy who likes motorcycles came by who likes a cat with ‘spunk’ as the front counter said, and didn’t mind a cat who could take care of himself (or take over the neighborhood), a MAN’s cat! Harley. Good luck in your new home. And good luck to all small animals around as well.

Please remember to click the links for Postcard Project and A Girl’s Gotta Fly for the new posts there and I hope you had a fun weekend (92! I did 92! Woo Hoo!).

Cat Visit: the full story (plus trip to the beach)

I have been quite ill the last few days, I am sorry that this post has been so delayed: I had probably the worst 23 hours in memory. I lost not only the best possibility of IVIG in a timely manner: not because the neurologist didn’t think I was terminal. And not because he didn’t know how to do IVIG but because he did not know anything about central autonomic failure and in 37 years had not treated it, and not with IVIG. There are NO autonomic failure specialists in this province. And even the top Neurologists of two countries telling him this is what needs to be done was not enough to stop him from saying, “It is not something I am going to put my name to.”

No treatment

No pain clinic or oversight of any medications.

No GP.

And then, after a grueling 6:30 am prep for a medical appointment and the joyful neuro visit in the afternoon, in the evening my body reacted to something, slower and longer than Cheryl’s did. And I evacuated until 5:30 am. When I finally slept, I woke 30-40 minutes later, said, “help” and Linda helped me BACK to the bathroom for round 2….well actually round 14 or so. I had been spontaneously bleeding from my nose from 4:30 a.m. on, then my body went into shock. I bled from the anus, as well. I got back to bed about 6:30 am.

The workers with an earthmover, a truck and several other heavy machinery started early, before city bylaws allow at 7:00 a.m. – 30 minutes after I got to bed – they finished at 5:30 pm.

But I have kitties. Or memories. At the shelter we got a bit confused and went into the ‘small animals’ room, which turned out to be mostly rabbits. Each rabbit had, if not another rabbit, a stuffie companion to be with. Indeed, it was nice but strange to see that the animals here were treated in a far more disability and friendly way than um, humans like me.

In the cat rooms, of which there were several: one large room which extended to a expanded play and sunning room and then an outside room. I did not want to go to the outside area as I would have had to flip up my casters and that would have scared the cats. Most of the free roaming cats like this one didn’t have a name I could find.
I quickly learned that cats really like being slowly scratched or rubbed underneath the jaw. This cat was purring in quite a contented way.I also talked in a soothing voice in case the cats needed to recognize me when I came again. Since I have little scent (I actually borrowed Linda’s gloves for this trip), I am hoping they will recognize the voice.
As you can see, visiting cats and having kitties accept me has absolutely no effect whatsoever on my happiness or well being.
There was one cat, that looked a year or just under, which didn’t want to be petted but wanted to hide under the wheelchair. So everywhere I went, the cat would follow. I guess with all the rooms they forgot one thing, something to hide under and spring out from. Anyway, if you adopt this cat, expect to find him in small spaces or under the sofa.

There was a bonded pairing of an eight month old black kitten named Betsie (ug! The name!) and Murray. Betsie was VERY outgoing, and Murray was pretty shy. Betsie liked to play, and then like to run back to Murray – a total momma’s boy…except Betsie wasn’t a boy and Murray wasn’t a mama. But more on that. Here Betsie is playing the ‘Spring from the back of the cage and chomp the finger’ game.You can see a pink bald patch of skin on Murray. When I first went to the cage Betsie didn’t know me and Betise went back and sucked the teat of Murray...except Murray is a guy. So instead Betsie has licked all the fur off of that section and licks it or suck it when she feels sad or needs comfort – the cat equivalent of sucking a thumb. Here is the older, more mature and shy Murray coming for a sniff.
There are sunning shelves all along the one wall in the next room as well as climbing and jumping platforms. As you can see with this platform, there are stairs for the older cats to walk up to the platform in order to sun themselves. A sort of cat disability adjustment. The shelter did a good job with pairing, with other ailments and with older cats to accommodate the needs and give them equal access.

Apparently, I found out later, that when cats like you or want to really know you they touch noses which is the cat equivalent of a ‘hello’ or handshake.
I have to admit that I spent a great deal of time with the kitten Betsie and the two year old Jasmine who ACTS like a kitten. First, using all FOUR legs, I am ‘officially caught’ – those pesky pink wiggle things will wiggle no more!

Then, while holding me still with the back legs, she comes in for the CHOMP!After a few chomps, Jasmine licks my finger to show it is all in play (that is my HOPE, instead of, ‘she licks my finger, hoping to lick up the blood from her beheaded prey’).
Of course, whether it is all in fun or not, that doesn’t mean she intends to give up my finger. She caught it and now it is HERS.
Jasmine also like to play the catch and chomp game upside down. Which amused her. Here she is resting and of course STILL holding the finger. I think I am supposed to rub her stomach and tell her how brilliant she is. But I am far too dense (hey there were bars in the way) so she had to make do with playing with me some more.

After the cat shelter Linda went to get some fish and chips so she dropped us off at the waterfront, atop the cliffs. It was sunny but with a good breeze to keep me cool. Cheryl and I rolled and ambled along the top of the cliff, looking out over the water to Port Angeles and also people watching.

I found, along the cliff path, this very long and very steep trail down to the beach, which meant I had to go back and forth and let the sides of the trail stop me and the wheelchair by ramming my feet and footrest into them. Fun.

It turned out it went down to a viewing platform, where we could see the driftwood of the beach and the curve of the bay. The sun was high in the sky.
The last bit down to the beach was set of stairs so even if I made it down.....no way back. So I asked someone passing by to take a picture of us. By then it was time for the hard part, to go back UP the path, inch by inch. Ouch! I stopped to take a drink every bit of shade and we met Linda and off home for some fish and chips, watching anime and then off for a nap. A not so bad afternoon.