Bark Heard Around the World tomorrow

Visit http://puppymillrescue.com/bark.htm for more information. See you there!

Dave Barry has fox families...

...and pictures!

Cats And War

That is when I heard it: the cry of an abandoned kitten, somewhere out in the darkness, calling for its mother somewhere inside the compound. By an animal lover’s anthropomorphic logic, those desperate calls, three nights running, had come to seem more than the appeal of a tiny creature doomed to a cold and lonely death. Deep in the winter night, they seemed like a dismal tocsin for all who suffer in a time of war.

A few lucky ones make it out.

There is an audio clip on that page from the author of "The Cat from Hue" in the lower left column. Looks like I need to get that book.

From Dolittler.

We are losing our muse...

Two weeks ago we agreed to sell the farm.

Two weeks ago, Nicky began to pass away.

He began eating less, and dropped weight with alarming speed.

I took him to the vet yesterday, and radiographs showed a large mass in his abdomen. Nicky likely has cancer. My vet did not recommend surgery.

Nick has stopped eating entirely today. I let him roam the farm for one last day, because it was beautiful and warm, and it is his place. But tomorrow I am afraid to let him out, because he is growing weaker, and I don't want him to just disappear. Mark found him asleep in the grass next to the barn, right out in the open. He obviously had grown tired and just stopped there.

Friday he goes back to the vet for his final visit.

The Owl Creek farm is really and truly nothing without Nick. He is it's puckish spirit. It's like he knew that once it was gone, there was no place for him.

Serious cuteness at Cat Eyes

I don't have time to blog this morning, but I'm tired of leaving my readers with nothing. So check out some serious cuteness on the Pacific side of the U.S. with Cat Eyes.

OK, our bear problem...

could be worse.

Sleepy Simon shot, adopter photo

I need a Catbus

Don't I?

I find poetry as I sort my life...

Waiting for Narcy

You might suppose she were still alive.
At seven p.m, lights snap on.
The upstairs windows glow warmly
but welcome no visitors.
No one turns back the covers on her bed.

I'm told she visited the physician
for some minor ache, pain, or worry.
Seven days later
her Taurus is estate property.
Spring breezes dust it clean
as if it is exercised daily;
it does not look lonely in the drive.

One wonders if she knew its color matched
the shutters on the house.
Was it planned? An amused whim on the car lot?
Or was it a silly surprise upon arriving
at her home with the new wheels?
Did she never even notice?
There is no one to ask.

This spring
would she have cut a branch from
her salmon quince?
Planted pansies by her door?
Lingered on the steps to feel the spring sun?
No one much remembers.

Each day I sit
in my truck at the curb.
Neighbors pass by,
startled when I greet them
from the rolled-down window,
but each is glad to talk.
Always the same:
They did not know her well.

How sad that some did not even know she had died.
They stare at the cheerful house
as if surprised it had not been kind enough
to let them know
by donning mourning black.

After weeks of daily visits
the irony strikes me;
that they have made friends with
this stranger at the curb
but knew their neighbor not at all.

Her metal garden bells have tipped
and no longer ring,
muffled by hosta shoots.
I refuse to right them
and betray the garden's loss
by supporting the illusion that all is well.
The cement garden cat is frozen in
permanent crouch.
It will never pounce.

At 5:30 each day I have my rendezvous.
Sometimes he is here already,
sitting on the porch stair,
as if he keeps a watch on his wrist.
Sometimes I must wait til six
for him to return from other appointments.
Today there is a cold unpleasant rain
and I wonder if he has stood me up.
But he appears as scheduled,
coat rumpled and worn.
It seems he no longer cares
to keep himself neat.
As I spy from the tuck
he walks up the drive
across the path to the porch
mounts the stairs.

He flattens his ears when he sees the trap,
his white porcelain bowl set as
bait for capture, surrounded by wire,
trip pan and doors poised to close.
In the drizzle
he backs down a stair, glaring,
sinks into a sad crouch, paws tucked.
He remains in the rain for an hour,
stubbornly refusing to look at his bowl
except for a single lift of his chin at the half-hour,
a tilt forward of the ears,
hoping the trap has dissolved in the rain,
sullen to find that it has not.

He is the only one who seems to know her at all.
She gave him a name.
"NRC"...Non-Resident Cat.
Misunderstanding, I called him Narcy.
She was not there to correct me.

He cannot answer my questions
about pansies, quince, or the car,
but he bows his head against the wet
to tell me in the determined line
of his gaunt shoulders
that she was a kind person
whose memory could bring a wild cat back
to her lately-foodless porch, each day, 5:30 pm,
from that bitter Christmas
to this bitter spring.

Does he know she'll never be there
to meet him on those white stairs?
He seems to know the trap is final,
would rather bear hunger than step on the pan,
would rather crouch in the rain than walk away
from his remembrance of her.

I can't outlast this stoic in the rain.
He relinquishes the porch as I step up,
take the food from the trap, close the door,
set the porcelain dish in safety on the bottom stair,
and walk away.

He is back,
eating untasted food in great swallows
as I release the clutch
roll down the pavement,
past the bright houses, neat lawns,
the redbuds, the quince, the flags.
We will continue our grave waltz another evening.
Him, waiting for her.
Me, waiting for Narcy.

Great music...

...poached from Potter's Blog

Convenia...a wonder drug for future ferals?

Dolittler discusses a new one-injection long-acting antibiotic. Imagine if this were available for caretakers to use on feral cats they might be able to capture for a vet visit, but which likely cannot be handled daily to be medicated. It doesn't even matter if you can get them in a cage. If they won't eat an antibiotic in their food, you are crap out of luck. Or the shy cat that eats a bite and runs if you look at her hard. How do you know she's getting the dose she needs?

How about cats that have an upcoming dental, but currently have abscessed teeth and need a week of antibiotics beforehand? Can you hear me thinking "Fluffy" dear Wildrun visitors?

Would I fork out $40 for antibiotics for one feral cat? Given how much Clavamox I've wasted, yeah, there are times I probably would.

The heat is on....

I turned on the kerosene heater in the great room, and Ivan and Cricket snuggled in to enjoy the last chance at blazing heat...

Bought a ring today....

Whoops! I had actually posted this here so Cary, who videotapes our cats, could see the ring. I was unable to send her the photo via Yahoo IM, so I put it up here and planned to take it down...and forgot. :) And now there are comments, it seems rude to remove it. So I'm putting it back up.

I needed a ring. It was important to me at that moment, to have one. The budget was not really there for one, but I figured no harm in looking, anyway.

The art stores were mostly stocked in "beautiful but modern." I could have ordered one I liked for around $130, but I don't know...ordering a ring just doesn't seem right. I don't want to see one in a catalog. If a ring is supposed to be personal, a catalog seems far too remote.

The jewelry stores were either barren, unimaginative, or depressing. Depressing how? The estate-type rings were numerous but dusty and unshined in one place (if you are a jewelry store, why would you let your wares gets dingy?) and all you could think of were the people who came in to sell them because they were broke, or their loved one had left them or died. The karma was bad.

So I wandered into 3-D Light (the local fantasy/head shop), although I specifically did not want another cheap silver ring that I would soon tire of. I wanted a wide band, and I wanted stones. I looked at the many rings he had available, in the wall cabinet stuffed full of earrings and D&D figurines. This was another place where the jewelry was all tarnished, but it fit with the place. It was part of the mystique that if you found something here, it would be because you could envision it untarnished.

Well, I couldn't "envision."

The store owner wandered over and asked me if I were looking for something. Normally I say "Just looking!" (i.e. "leave me alone, thanks!"). But these past few weeks I've discovered that if people want to help you, a wise person says "thank you."

I told him I wanted a ring. He steered me over to a cabinet that I had already checked out, and I mentally prepared myself to be polite while I said "No, thanks."

But then he opened it up, and started taking them out, and making me look at them, and telling their stories.

And that's when I realized I'd been saying "no thanks" to people for far too long. He finally pulled out this ring...one I never would have even looked at twice if it hadn't been handed to me, and I realized that it not only fit physically, it met my criteria. It was silver. It was wide, although not in the manner I had envisioned. It had gemstones (citron), and it was handmade.

It looked like music. And in fact, that is the first thing Mark's mom said to me when she saw it. "It looks like music" (meaning, musical notes).

And it was under forty bucks. Since everything financial is measured in terms of spays or cat food, we were talking 3.5 bags of cat food here.

I bought it. And I'm happy with it.

The store owner told me it had been around for over 25 years. There had been a jeweler/artist living in Ithaca back then who used to sell him prototype rings that never went into production. This was one of them. That was back when I was walking around Ithaca as a college student. The future was open then, and it's open now.

Stories and people. I need to remember to value them more.

Sent to me today by a friend...

A recent study found the average American walks about 900 miles per year. Another study found Americans drink, on average, 22 gallons of wine a year. That means, on average, Americans get about 41 miles to the gallon.

Kind of makes me proud to be an American.

Ben settles in

Not much time to blog this morning, but I wanted to get this photo up of Ben in his new home. It sounds like he's making the place his own!

Beautiful Ben gets a home...again

Ben has found a new home! At age four, after being adopted as a kitten (and returned a year later by the owner--who had failed to neuter him, prompting our current "neutered before adoption" policy) and adopted again (and returned because the family's Jack Russell wanted to eat him despite their conscientious attempts at introduction), he has charmed his way into new hearts, and left here today.

Thank you for everyone who has helped with Ben...Donna and Tim, Alden, and Cary who made his video. It worked, and hopefully he's off to his forever home.

A Bark Heard Around the World, May 17

By AMANDA FOLTS / Finger Lakes Times

PENN YAN - Puppy Mill Rescue Inc. is sponsoring an event called "Bark Heard Around the World" May 17 to educate people about the treatment of dogs raised in puppy mills.

Eileen Franco, a Puppy Mill Rescue Inc. board member and foster mom,defined a "puppy mill" as a large-scale facility that produces more than one breed of dog. She said some dogs are sold right out of the mills, with a majority going to pet stores and a growing number sold over the Internet, which makes the mills harder to track and regulate.

Franco hopes the event at the Yates County Fairgrounds will convince more people to take a stand against mills and pressure state legislators to pass tougher laws against them.

"People need to do more than just be horrified - they need to start speaking out," she said. "We need people to be a voice for the voiceless."

Among the speakers May 17 will be Dr. Franklin McMillan of Best Friends Sanctuary in Utah, who has been working on a 15-year study of the emotional impact of dogs raised in puppy mills.

Dr. Carl Darby, a veterinarian at the Seneca Falls Veterinary Hospital who helps care for rescued dogs, plans to speak about the physical issues they have after leaving puppy mills.

"I'm hoping that people realize that when they buy a puppy from a puppy mill that they're supporting an organization that treats animals in an inhumane way," he said.

This is the first year A Bark Heard Around the World is being held in the area, but Franco said she has attended a similar event in Pennsylvania, where the puppy mill population is booming in Lancaster County. She said the number of mills in the Finger Lakes region - and especially in Yates County - is rising to a similar level.

The full article can be found at the Finger Lakes Times. It will ask you to register.

For more information about A Bark Heard Around the World or Puppy
Mill Rescue Inc., visit puppymillrescue.com

Thanks, Nancy, for sending this!

Rescue Ink will be there!

I do plan to go, if anyone wants to go from Spencer.

Jasper and Zuzu, blogcats of the day

Thanks, Stephanie! How sweet. I'll bet they aren't always that quiet.

Back in black

The place looked great upon my return, once again due to the wonderful care by Donna and Tim. It was 32 degrees when I got back to NY last night, but Donna had turned the heat back on, and I plugged in the heat lamp in the cat room, so everyone was snug and warm.

Today the sun is once again shining full with spring and it looks like it's going to be a gorgeous day.

Perci and KittyCorn were happy to have the window opened again.

The power of video...

At the end of the conference today, I sat down for the closing session, and a young woman from International Animal Rescue U.S. pulled out the chair next to me. She eventually asked if I had been the person who spoke at The Whole Cat workshop--had I mentioned using video to help find homes for homeless cats?

Yes, I say, that had been me. I had asked at that time for people to please let me know if video did indeed help place their cats in homes faster than photos alone.

Well, she took me at her word, and posted a video of her sweet foster cat Sandy. Sandy loves dogs. Her video proves it. And within days she had three inquiries on Sandy, who is now in a great home.

Check this out! A world full dog-and-cat lovers would likely stand in line to adopt Sandy. (When you get to Sandy's pet note, click on the video icon above her photo).

I didn't get a chance to actually view the video until just now, sitting on the floor by the only electrical outlet in this wing of Terminal F, behind the podium for Gate F11. I'm not sure if I'm allowed to be here, but at the moment I don't really care. What a great video!

It worked! Sandy has a home.

Isn't it a pity it will be dark when I land...

...so I won't be able to see how far they've gotten on this.

Still ground bound in Vermont

Burlington in the only airport I've encountered that has specifically put in power strips in the waiting area for internet scavengers like myself. After all, why settle in to read a good book ("Water Witches", which I got so I could send it to Cary once I'm done)when you can blog...or work?

As you all know, there are moments throughout your life when you step back, lift your head to take a hard look at the world, and realize you've lost the glasses you've worn for the past 20 years..or you've had them taken from you. You can walk around without them, and accept the soft, fuzzy, and less distinct view of the world you are now stuck with, or you can go get new glasses, which will make the world's outline perhaps sharper and harsher than before. And your new frames won't be anything like your old frames, no matter how hard to look for your old friendly design. You will look different in the mirror, regardless. You may not really like that stranger in the mirror. But you know that sooner or later, you'll get used to her.

But you do have to decide.

Blogging my way home on the the last of my battery

...in more ways than one.



I am luxuriating in my last "world weary traveler" moment for many months. A glass of wine, a seat by the window, free internet access, and only about ten minutes left on my laptop battery. The conference is over. While my own batteries are worn out, rather than recharged, I was able to meet with so many people who reminded me why I originally became involved in the field of animal welfare. It's been a long time since I've sat and had a long, intense conversation with just one person at a time (rather than fleeting conversations with friends with whom you'd love to spend more time, or presentations to colleagues or strangers). It was heart-mending, in some ways.

(Saving, in case the battery dies in mid post....)

My long absence from blogging has been due in part to general busy-ness, and most recently due to changes in priorities.

I will be in touch with the friends of Wildrun soon, as there will be some changes, I believe, in our little cat rescue on Owl Creek. It's time to reassess and recreate.

Ah, there is the low battery warning. Adios, and hug the nearest cat!

More catching up. Nick, the cat who sleeps anywhere.

I was potting a plant, and walked away. I came back, and, well....

Blogging from Vermont.

I am at the New England Federation of Humane Societies conference in Burlington Vermont. The flight on the Gnat...oh, I'm sorry, the Dash-8 (scroll down. Way down. No...WAY down) was quite beautiful, since they fly so low. Coming into LaGuardia--which I had not done before--was rather like skating in on the roofs of row houses.

Coming down from the second leg into Burlington was like landing in, well, Vermont. Which is about the most peaceful and beautiful thing you can say about a flight. I found myself wondering if I could move up here? Quiet, beautiful.

(Just so you know, it ain't happening. Anything under $100,000 up here is a camp or a mobile home).

Last time I came to Burlington in April, Mark and I ended up fleeing in the face of a huge snowstorm in my little S-10.

Luckily, I'll be spirited safely out on Wednesday night on another little Gnat...sorry, "Dash-8."

Catching up

I have been neglecting the blog so long, that when I went back through my photos I discovered I had to go back to the New York ice age. But a beautiful ice age.



From the "birdhouse"...our old unused barn on the farm here.

Hey,

I'm sorry to have been MIA for so long. I haven't even been taking photos. But I've gotten a bunch of email messages and some phone calls saying Hey, what's up! so I will hoist myself out of my dark hole of non-communication. Thanks for letting me know you care, and sorry to worry you all!

Dear Readers

No, I am not dead yet. Thank you for the emails and calls. I will post today. I promise.

Cats and Engineers

Thanks, Donna, for forwarding this laugh. Especially the cat yodeling.

This makes you think.

Elephant painting.

I'm a bit concerned

Because I used to skateboard in the funeral home parking lot. I wonder what sign they might choose to post?

1daybanner.com really is One Day Banner

I love living in small towns.



I ordered the banners above on Tuesday evening, online, at 1daybanner.com

They sent a tracking number. They called the next day to make sure I'd gotten my proofs. I had not. They sent them again while I was on the phone with them. By the day's end, the banners were complete, and had left California. Amazing!

I checked usps.com the next day, and the package was in Elmira (2 hours from me). I called my Spencer post office, and they told me they would be going to Newfield first, and Newfield would deliver them to me. I called the Newfield post office, but there was no answer.

By 3:30 pm I was getting antsy, and called Newfield back. This time someone answered. I said, "Hi, my name is Susan Greene, and I live in Spencer..." and before I can say much more he says "It's leaning against the chair on your front porch."

I ran down with my portable phone, and there it was. A package with my banners.

Magic. In less than 48 hours, banners from my imagination, from CA, to NY, to my house.

Okay, now answer me this. Can you believe they had clip-art of a woman in a purple mumu feeding cats?

I'm not quite at purple mumu level yet, but Mark has winced at what I've walked out the door wearing, a few times.

Thanks, 1daybanner.com! And the US Post Office, especially the staff and postmasters in tiny towns. (Yes, our postmasters answer their own phone when on duty, and even hand-deliver express mail--I've had my postmaster pull up, hand me my express mail and say "So this is where you live!")

Paws for a Cause in Albany NY

Wildrun will be boothing it in Albany Friday and Saturday at the Paws for a Cause pet expo in Albany NY. CSEA donated their booth to a rescue, and we'll be there teaching folks about TNR. Petfinder is sending a "Our Pets are on Petfinder" banner. I'm trying to decide whether I should bring Espie along or not. I think much will depend on what the weather is like Friday morning. I know she'd enjoy the trip, but I also know the walk from the parking lot to the venue is a long one (and I wouldn't dare drop her off and leave her at the unloading zone while I parked, of course).

The schedule of events sounds great. I'll be at the booth, but if you live near Albany, stop on out! My booth will be very purple, and very green. Do not bring pets! I understand there will be lots of treats to bring home to your gang.

I ordered new banners, but it remains to be seen if they will make it in time before I leave. Here's one, from 1daybanner.com:

Ow!

I haven't had to make lots of copies in a long, long while. In my previous job incarnation, I had access to a discount printing center where I could get the low, low, price even for my rescue work.

Well, I naively ran off to make copies for a booth I'll be manning Friday and Saturday in Albany and didn't even bother to check the per copy price. I mean, how much could a measly 300 copies be? (Do the math, Susan. It's far more than "300" when one "copy" was two pages, double-sided).

Over $50, that's how much!

I'll be taking darned good care of these copies, you can be sure. If someone wants the two-page double-sided one, I want to see cat fur stuck on their clothing as proof of serious commitment (joking)!

One Ear is off to the vet

Kat, who feeds the Fast Food Ferals on weekdays, noted to me via email that she had seen One Ear, and he was limping badly.

There are only three cats on the north side of Route 13 nowadays: Vannie, One-Ear, and a new long furred brown-and-white guy. This weekend, Mark and I went to Ithaca College, where he handed off his car to me, and then I drove down to where the cats are fed on Route 13 to set two traps.

The lumber yard had only one vehicle in the parking lot, so I was able to pull the car up to where I could watch the traps. The sun was out, and I'd brought my laptop. I spent half my time working, and the other half sitting with my eyes closed, victim to the cold that just won't go away.

Vannie came out as soon as I walked away, sniffed the trap, glared toward the car, and walked away. I wouldn't have minded getting her for a rabies booster, but I was just as glad that she didn't fill up a trap. One Ear showed up about a half-hour later and walked right in.

It looks like his right rear paw is injured, rather than his leg. That's good. A broken leg on a feral cat probably would have meant euthanasia. An injured paw may just mean antibiotics and some cage rest. We'll let a vet (and an radiograph) decide. In the meantime, he has snorfed up a jar of turkey baby food here in his cage at Wildrun. I can't tell yet if he's actually feral-born or just a shy stray. His "missing ear" is just crumpled up due to ear mite scarring or a past hematoma. He has quite a few mats and will benefit from a good combing while under anesthesia.

At least he'll be off to the vet. Thanks, Kat, for letting us know!

Turn your lights off!

Now!

And computers for good measure. Bye!

Arnot Maple Weekend - tomorrow too!

This is the best six bucks you could spend this weekend on "fun":


We laughed at this. Yes, these signs sum up NYS weather. Next week, if the sun keeps shining, this could well be a wildflower trail once again!






There were a lot more people when we were eating. Unfortunately, I didn't think to take a picture until a low-volume moment.



There were lots of children, all well-behaved, and all cute as sin! We aren't particularly "kid" people. We tend to borrow them once they are old enough to go for hikes or ride horses. Nonetheless, we enjoyed smiling at this crop of small humans, as the parents who chose to bring them out here to a true NY outdoor weekend event.




If you need something fast to do this weekend to give yourself a breather, definitely drive on out to the Arnot Forest. There is a link in the post below.

Wear boots! You might want to tuck an extra few dollars in your wallet to bring home some maple syrup, t-shirt, maple candy, or a temporary tattoo for the kids.

Yeah, yeah, for the kids.



It was a nice way to spend an hour on a Saturday morning.

Arnot Forest Maple Weekend

...is today and tomorrow. We are on our way now, while the cats stay home and lounge in front of the fire on this snowy Saturday.