I feel like a drenched rat today. It started with meeting a woman who had been helping a small colony of cats who were living under a dumpster. She had promised me that they were "Very Friendly" and about "10-12 weeks old".
Truth? They were 5 months old and I couldn't touch them. I drove 40 minutes to get there this morning in dead stop traffic in the rain and pea soup fog. I hate it when people lie. I gave her some advice on trapping and some resources, but I really couldn't help her otherwise. These kittens were on the cusp of adulthood and if she didn't get them in to be fixed within the next week or two, she would end up with hundreds of cats very quickly. It was all very sad. I'll think about their little faces when the weather gets colder later this week.
I received a call from a woman a few days ago who had been helping a cat left alone in an apartment after his owner died. When I arrived to the modest building, she warned me: "It's pretty bad in there." But nothing could've prepared me for the smell. It smelled like someone very very sick had lived there. It smelled like death. I'm not sensitive to smells, but I gagged when I walked in:
Even though I said he needed a name, I decided to call him "Josh". He's being neutered at the vets tomorrow and he needs a foster home. I introduced him to the vet clinic cat named 'Bob', and he was fine with him. (Bonus!)
I really feel like I've been stepping out of my comfort zone with regards to rescue. That's not always a good thing for me, but it's certainly been an education. It's left me feeling really exhausted. I can't really remember the last time I felt well rested. I've been staying up too late while David is away watching reruns of, Hoarders and Intervention - ALL t.v. shows that David hates to watch. He calls Monday night "Despair Night". LOL
Early to bed tonight - it's going to be another early morning....