Land O' Ice

How many people book a trip to Iceland during the Canadian winter?  Answer:  Canadians that thought it was a good idea in August.  Good Grief.  What were we thinking?  We forgot all about this  trip until two days ago when David got a reminder on his phone.  I've been moving full  speed ahead  with rescue and have had very busy days - no time for a holiday right now.  

Looks like I'm going to Iceland next week.  *sigh*  

We've had 90+ adoptions again this month, and we've been doing a lot of rescuing just to keep up with the numbers.  Does this sound like I'm complaining?  Noooo....not at  all.  But I'm certainly not prepared to take a break and go to Iceland.  

I need to file the tax return for the Charity.  It's due now and I'm behind on bookkeeping, bank deposits and and the usual administration.  I am *never* this far behind.  It's obvious that I need to take several administration days or set my alarm to get up before the phones start ringing.  

Yesterday, I  worked the ENTIRE  afternoon entering Paypal donations in our bookkeeping software.   Believe me - there weren't that many!  But with the text messages, phones and emails interrupting me, I found myself making data entry errors and was completely distracted.  I really need to lock myself in somewhere and finish all this stuff.  

Tomorrow night, we move from one Petsmart store to another.  Packing up, moving out and moving the cats with us.  It's all such a hassle, but I think it's nice for some of the volunteers to get a monthly break.  Those of who are more hardcore in the rescue...business as usual.  

Tomorrow is another rescue day for us.  I'm tired and am beginning to wonder if  my socks are clean or if I'm putting the dirty ones back in the drawer.  That's how I lost my wedding ring a few months ago!  It just completely disappeared on an evening I was 100% exhausted.  At the end of the day, I took off my earrings and my wedding ring and put them in the drawer.  I  woke up the next morning - they were gone. *Poof*  For all I know, I'll find them in the refrigerator when I  (finally) have time to clean that.  

Nope.  I'm not ready for a vacation.  But I'm getting one anyway.  The universe has a way of slowing us down when we need it the most.  I suppose I should be glad I'm getting a trip to Iceland and not an appendectomy!  Tomorrow, I'm  setting my alarm for 5 a.m. and will try to power through some of this tax shit.  stuff.   The glamour of running a rescue...tell the masses :)

Busy February!

Whenever there is a larger gap between posts, I always wonder where I should begin.  For once, there hasn't been anything super newsworthy!  At least nothing that I want to discuss publicly.   Those of you who have been reading my blog for the past 6 years might be surprised that there are actually things that I don't want to talk about.  :)

A few weeks ago, we rescued this pathetic little guy from the "high kill" shelter:

He was declared to be really old and very sickly.  You never know what you're going to get when you rescue a cat like this.  He might need to be euthanized right away, or the costs could be in $$$$'s in order to make him well.

Rarely, are there PLEASANT surprises in rescue...but this guy was  a REALLY pleasant surprise:

Turns out our "sickly old man" was really a  "starving kitten!"   How cute is this picture????  PLUS, this guy LOVES the other cats and the dog in his foster home.  BONUS!!!

Our adoptions are really strong again this month.  I'm certain it will be 90+ adoptions for the month of February again.  But with 200 adoptions in two months come a lot of rescues.  We've been swamped keeping up with rescuing, vetting, placing, Petsmart, adoptions, etc etc.  It's a good kind of busy.  No complaints from me yet.

I wish it could be this way every month.  Even the black cats are being adopted fast.  It's funny how there's always a certain colour that seems more popular than others every year.  Some years it was the orange cats.  Other years it was the calicos.  This year?  It's the tabby's.  EVERYBODY wants a tabby.  :)  I'll have to start paying more attention to the Temptation Treats and toilet paper commercials.  They seem to dictate the Cat Du Jour.

I've posted on Facebook some pictures of our new dog "Jeffrey".  He's so homely that he's cute:

Honestly.  I can't be the only one that will admit that Jeffrey is a bit... u-g-l-y, can I?  David gets very sensitive when I say that Jeff is homely.  But Sadie likes him, and that's important too:

I'll try to write more this week.  I'm really holding back on some thoughts and  issues happening in my life.    I'm hoping that they'll correct themselves - but if not...I'll need a place to talk.
Vent.
Piss & Moan.
Whatever.

Hodge Podge of Emotional Writing

I really haven't felt like myself since Doug left us.   I know it sounds crazy, because pets come and go and  as a veteran rescuer, you'd think I would've hardened up a bit more.  But his unfair departure from our lives have left me feeling empty and sad.   Maybe it's just seasonal and the dark days are getting to me.  I've been thinking about my life in Southern California quite a bit lately which is very uncharacteristic of me.

We named our frozen orange and white guy "Wallace".  (William Wallace the warrior!)  It seemed to suit him after he had been through so much.  I think his picture from our vet clinic speaks volumes to how Wallace feels  about square meals and warmth:

"Wallace"

A Rant:

We recently rescued a cat from a fellow rescuer who reached out for help.  This rescuer has been *no* friend of mine over the years and has been part of that "Crazy Protester" group.  She's  really a pathetic little woman that has said some pretty nasty things about me and our rescue over the years.  She's called me an "enabler for kill shelters", etc.   I find it incredible that when she needs help for one of her OWN CATS, she asked us.  I didn't take the cat for her, I took the cat because she was desperate and I was worried about him.

The cat arrived to us in horrible shape.  According to his veterinary records, he had lost almost 2 pounds in the past 9 months.  He had  hardened weeks and weeks old diarrhea down his legs and so much caked to his back side that it completely covered his rectum.   The vet felt she had to shave and bathe this poor cat before he could go into a foster home.  The vet also indicated that his feet were caked with mounds of litter - all of which meant he was either living in filth or this pathetic excuse for a human being kept this sweet cat caged.

I'd love to post pictures of this cat, but will keep her identity anonymous.  She doesn't really deserve it, but I need to protect myself too.

How?  How on earth can she call herself a "rescuer"?  How can she sit there on a Facebook page and advocate for animals at a high kill shelter when her own situation is such a horrific mess?  I read her posts about how "disgusting"  this shelter is and that the staff is void of conscience...yada yada  yada...God, I can't imagine what the rest of her cats look like. This poor cat is going to need medical care and lots of it.   I hope the vet files a cruelty charge against her.  I really do.

End Rant

Wasn't this a hodge podge of emotional writing tonight?  I've had a few people mention that I need more before/after happy stories in my blog.  I try to remind readers that this isn't our rescue's blog.  I wouldn't be writing stories like I have over the past 6 years if I was representing our rescue in these posts.  These  are my own personal thoughts and I really think it needs to remain that way.  I'd consider a "Disneyland Rainbow Rescue Blog", but I don't think I could write it.  That isn't really rescue. But after seeing that poor cat that we took from a (supposed to be) fellow rescuer, I'm not sure I really understand it all anyway.

We Did It!

Remember this sad little soul?  (if you missed the post, you can read about him HERE or HERE.

My rescue partner, Shelley and I were knee deep in a hoarder's house rescuing a bunch of unwilling cats when my cell phone rang.  I didn't want to answer the phone, I was busy but didn't recognize the number. Maybe it was a Petsmart volunteer who needed help.

"Beth?  This is E*** the people who have the orange and white cat that was freezing to death in our back yard?"

My  heart skipped a beat.

He was there.  He was in their back yard.  But this time, he was dragging his back leg and he appeared to be severely injured.   I don't think I've ever seen Shelley move so fast!   She jumped in her car and left to pick up the mysterious frozen orange and white cat and I stayed behind to take a 9 hoarder's cats to the vet.

He was there when she arrived.  His hip looked bad - maybe he had been hit by a car.   He must've known he was going to be safe.  He never struggled and this gentle soul allowed the vet to examine him and trim his nails.  X-rays, possible hip surgery, neutering and vaccinations - all on the list for this sweet abandoned cat. He bears a few war wounds across his nose that tom cats often have.   But those will heal.  

 We did it.  He's safe.  He will never have to be cold or hungry again.

A Lucky Update

My days have been starting earlier and earlier lately.  I think the severe cold in our area have put my head into hibernation mode.  The rescue's voicemail is filled with anxious people that have been feeding strays and needing help for them in these frigid temperatures.  The voicemail always starts with "I've been feeding this stray kitten for the past 6 months and now it's so cold, he needs to come inside."  So frustrating that people wait so long.

A few weeks ago we rescued a pathetic little girl from the "high kill" shelter named "Lucky".

Her mouth was so infected and abscessed from bad teeth that she just laid in her litterbox and drooled.  She couldn't eat.  Looking into her mouth would make you want to cry!  Lucky is cross-eyed and has a severely broken tail.  She was anything but Lucky until we rescued her:

After more than $1000.00 worth of dental surgery you can see the relief in her face.  All she needs is a little princess crown on top of her head.

Recovery Will Be Slow

First, I want to thank everybody for their outpouring of love and support over the loss of our dog "Doug" after the rescue we were volunteering with "Homeward Bound Rescue of Clarington" adopted him to another family despite our vehement objections.  The tragedy goes far deeper than just the loss of Doug.  I've always wondered how couples who have lost a child could turn on each other.  Now I understand.  David and I are blaming each other for the loss of Doug and Homeward Bound just gets to walk away from the mess with an adoption fee in hand.  I haven't slept well since he left and we're all very depressed.

Although I haven't felt much like it, we've still been rescuing.  "Carrying on" hasn't done much for me emotionally, but it's kept me out of the house and away from thinking about my little guy that loved us so much.

We rescued 13 cats the other day from a woman who was trying to be her own rescue and found herself unable to care for the cats properly.  She meant well and the cats were cared for, but having your own rescue isn't just about rescuing a shitload of cats.

Some faces of our more recent rescue:

The fluffy guy above was found with a missing leg and ear.  I can't even imagine what happened to him.  He had to be sedated to shave the matts out. You need money for that kind of rescuing.

Ah...those dear little faces that rely on us to do the right things for them.  I feel like I'm so close to crying all the time and wish it would go away.  I think the best thing I can do now is just to keep moving forward every single day.  I'm sure Homeward Bound Rescue is happy that I'm off their back....at least for now.

I'll continue to rescue, do adoptions and smile.  But I'll be thinking about my "Doug the Pug".  I hope he's ok.

First Come. First Served.

They took him from me.

David offered to pay the adopter's adoption fee for another dog, plus a donation to the rescue. That wasn't good enough.  A volunteer driver called him and David left a moment ago with Doug.  It's strange, Doug has never turned down a ride in the car.  But when David called  'C'mon Doug!", he ran upstairs to me and jumped into my lap.

I'm devastated.  Heartbroken and my eyes red and puffy from crying.

To add insult to injury, I received the following email from a board member of the rescue pertaining to the blog post I wrote about yesterday.  Again, I'm not verifying the name of the rescue, nor the writer:

Beth I have to say that I am totally disgusted with your behaviour.  How dare you manipulate the situation to make yourself look like a victim. I know that you are a very passionate and opinionated woman, but your selfishness in trying to make yourself look good is just hurting rescue in general. What you are doing is slander and you know it.  You do not have any proof of your intention to adopt and are twisting the situation around.

Perhaps you should mention in your post that you don't have the proof existence of such email exists so it is a more accurate portrayal of the situation.  You seem to have every other email about Doug except the one we have asked for.

I did warn T*** and K***  that you would be a high maintenance foster home, but I never dreamed that it would result in this.  Perhaps I should have realized that you publicly bash everybody and everything when you do not get your own way and should have expected something like this from you.

****************************************

It's absolutely true.  There is an email "out there" that I no longer have and they said they never received that casually stated our intent to adopt Doug.  They knew I wanted him.  Why didn't they call me to find out for sure?   They're ALL (or were) "friends" with me on  Facebook.  They knew how I felt about him.  

This isn't a sale at Wal-Mart.  The well-being of the animal shouldn't be first come first serve.  

No, I'm not a victim at all.  Doug is the victim.  I can still feel his slobber drying on my cheek as I type this.  

What About Doug?

I've decided that all dog rescuers are completely insane.  How's THAT for a ridiculous generalization?

The dog rescue that we've been with wants to take Doug away from us.  Apparently, they have an adopter interested in him.  I told them a month ago that we wanted to adopt Doug, but since the Foster Coordinator didn't acknowledge the email, they went ahead and put 10+ year old Doug on their website as 6 year old Doug and they don't care about anything but their reputation with the adoption applicant.

The Facebook messaging went something like this:  (Edited for length and to keep the privacy of the moron who I'm messaging.)

Hi Beth,

Hope you are well, I need to have your contact info as we now have a completed application, home visit for Doug.

thank you

Beth Turner

I told K*** that we were hoping to adopt him ourselves. He loves us I never heard back from her, and figured we were good.

Uh oh!!! I'm so sorry. What happened to K****? I haven't heard from her in ages. As an administrator of an animal rescue, I drives me crazy when foster parents wait until there's an adopter interested before declaring they want to adopt the pet themselves. I'm so sorry!

K*** is still around. I will be proceeding with the application Beth, I am sorry! What information would you like me to provide to them so they can contact you to set up the meet and greet?

Beth Turner

Why is that, T***? Doug is very happy with us and our other dog Sadie.

Beth is looks very bad on us that we have completed the application, home visit etc and then turn around and waste the time and say.. Oh the foster is going to adopt. This is something you would not tolerate from your own rescue. So please let me have your information so I can provide it to the family that is over the moon excited about Doug.

Beth Turner

T***y, in our foster home based rescue, our foster parents DO get first pick to adopt. I would NEVER pry a cat away - who is settled and wanted in their foster home. Furthermore, I told K*** quite a while ago via email (right before the dental) that we wanted to adopt.

Well that is your policy. Like I said I am going through with this application, so I can come and pick doug up and do the meet and greet or you can?

(More bullshit messages back and forth - by this time, I'm hysterically sobbing at the computer)

Beth TurnerIn other words, you're willing to pry Doug from a home he loves with people who love him? He sleeps between me and my husband every night. You're more worried about what your potential adopters think of HBR than what's best for the dog? Seriously?
Beth....you are not adopting Doug, I make the decision. And he will be going to another family

Beth Turner

Are we unsuitable adopters?

Beth i am really not wishing to argue with you, if you are not going to cooperate with me then I will have no choice then to come and get him and move him asap. We do not expect this kind of behaviour from our foster homes and will not tolerate it.

(Note: At this point, I offer to DOUBLE the adoption fee, she asks for correspondence that I no longer have and calls me a liar.)

***********************************

Sure, I understand what a pain in the ass it is when a foster parent waits to adopt until an adopter is interested. It happened to me last week! You call the adopter and say sheepishly, "Oops...let me help you choose another cat." The bottom line is, "What is best for the dog?" How many times does Doug have to start over????

At this point, I have no idea what's going to happen. David and I aren't speaking over this, because he always defaults to contractual agreements and I think with my heart. He wants to keep Doug and loves Doug, but he's too Canadian to fight for him.

I, however, am not Canadian and have called a lawyer.

A Difficult Rant

(Profanity Alert)
If you're reading this post, it's because I've had the balls to push "Send".   This is a rant about a situation at the "high kill" shelter where we often rescue.  The "high kill"  Pound shares a building with the non-profit SPCA.  It's been this way for years and the SPCA will often come over and pull cats from the pound for their shelter.

I've been rescuing from this city pound for 10 years now.  For 10 years, the  SPCA has been able to come next door and take "first pick" of any cat in the shelter.  For years, they've cherry-picked litters of kittens and left the black ones to die.   The SPCA is no friend of mine.

Two days ago, a litter of 8 kittens were left at a bus stop in a box.  My rescue was  alerted and we went to the city pound and put the kittens "on hold" so that they could finish their stray time, as mandated by the city. A big sign was put on each of their cages that said, "RESCUE CONFIRMED"  with FHCR's name on it.  While we were there, we took a cat that needed more than a $1000.00 worth of dental and two others that nobody else wanted.

My rescue partner and I spent hours sorting through the recent rescue of 17 cats and now incoming 8 unsocialized kittens.  We put out volunteer driver requests to help with moving cats to their proper foster homes and booked vet appointments.  Because these kittens were  "spitty/hissy/cuties", we wanted to insure that they would go to an experienced home who has the time to work with them.

One of our awesome volunteer drivers took took a vacation day from work in order to make the ONE HOUR drive to pick up the 8  kittens and transport them to the vet and prospective foster homes.  She offered to do this as a great favour to me because I was so pressed for time with all the other incoming cats.  We even had another foster parent that would pick up some on her lunch hour from work too.

This morning, after all the T's are crossed and I's are dotted,   I receive an email from a staff member at the shelter I really like:

Hey ladies,

The SPCA has decided to take some of the 8 kittens.  They have first choice so there is nothing I can doL  I told them you had already made arrangements for them so they left some for you…I think there are 2 left.

So sorryL

You can only imagine how I felt when  I received the email.  How can one rescue organization (aka: the SPCA) come in, yank the signs  off the cages and take the kittens that were to be coming to another rescue? 

Before I receive emails about "principles before personalities"  and "it's all about the cats", and "there are no  shortage of cats"...and other similar bullshit.  This post isn't about the cats/kittens rescued today.  I'm happy that they had a place to go and that TWO organizations wanted them.  I certainly wish it could always be that way.  

It's about our VOLUNTEERS.  I value what our volunteers do.  We had foster parents who left for work this morning with spare bedrooms  set up with litterboxes and food in anticipation of their new arrivals.  We  had  a  volunteer that took a fucking VACATION DAY to do transport because *I*  asked her for help!!!!

The SPCA  has PAID employees who walked next door, took down the "Rescue confirmed" signs, took the kittens that I had planned on rescuing for HOURS and said  "Fuck Beth and her volunteers, we need kittens in our shelter."  

I called the Acting Manager of the City Pound who has known me for 10  years.  She  apologized.  She said her hands were tied and that there was nothing that they could do.  Bullshit.  She said they were making positive changes  and to please be patient.  "HUH????  Tell THAT to the army of volunteers I put into place to rescue 8 kittens this morning."  

I lost credibility with my volunteers this morning and wasted  a lot of people's time.  But no more.  I will not be rescuing from this city pound again until the policy of the "all  mighty SPCA is more important than my rescue." is abolished.

With all the paid staff, a six figure $$ paid CEO, Wiggle Wagon truck, in house veterinarian, vet techs, a millions in donations etc., this almighty, fucking organization had 966 cat adoptions in 2013.

I have NO paid staff, a bunch of awesome rockstar volunteers who pay for gasoline, food and litter out of their own pockets and NO SHELTER....and I had 715 adoptions.  

Come get me when you get your head out of your asses.  I'll still be here rescuing the cats that need me.

Rescue Anxiety

Up until yesterday, I wouldn't have been able to tell you if our orange stray that we so diligently tried to rescue was alive.  But 'lo and behold, I received a picture from the people who are watching for him:

Don't get me started on WHY the hell they haven't called or put this guy in their garage.  These people are afraid of fleas and refuse to touch him.  I'm grateful they are still in contact with me, however.  He looks pretty good in this picture, so somebody is feeding him.

Of course, he finally shows up after Shelley and I rescue 17 cats yesterday and are scrambling on veterinary care and foster space.  We left at 10 am and finally got home at 5 pm.  Needless to say, the cats were not all from one location.  I hadn't rescued like that in a long time!!!  I'm such a conservative rescuer by nature, I desperately tried not to have a panic attack as we took a cat with severe dental issues and another big ol' Tom that had been fighting.  Poor guy had abscesses all over his head and massive infections.

When we arrived at the lady's house to pick up one unneutered cat, we discovered she had four cats that needed help.  One was VERY pregnant and due to deliver any day.  She couldn't figure out how that happened since "the unneutered cats only came inside once in a while."  :)  So we loaded 'em all up.

The vet recommended that we viral test the Tom  cat for Feline Leukemia.  Sure...that's easy for her to say.  I don't believe in viral testing for the most part, but I took one look at this big headed tom cat and knew it was the right thing to do.   IF the test was positive, I would lovingly have him euthanized.  He wouldn't be adoptable and the wounds on his head would never properly heal.  I stood staring at the "Snap" test (similar to a pregnancy test) for 10 minutes.  He was negative and I rejoiced!

It was really quite a day.  We were at the high kill shelter, and a nasty smelly drug house - twice and the home of a kind retired lady who was trying to save a few cats but had no money.   I put on a lot of kilometers on the car and at the end of the day my car was filled with empty coffee cups and a couple of muffin wrappers.

I think we were at the vets dropping off cats three different times.  Bless their hearts, the vet managed to get ALL the surgeries and vaccinations done.  Now it's our job to insure they're all moved out of the clinics and into appropriate foster homes.  Piece of cake, right?

Tomorrow?  I'm back at the "high kill" shelter to rescue 8 kittens that were left in a box at a bus stop.

Let the anxiety begin!

Just One.

It's going to be -35 tonight - again.  With gusts of wind 60 kmh - again.  Two days ago, I received a plea for help regarding a domestic cat that had probably been abandoned and he took refuge on a homeowner's back porch:

My heart dropped while the temperature dropped even further and I posted this picture on Facebook.  I didn't know where these people lived and they wouldn't answer their phone.  I could help him.  I was shocked at the number of fellow rescuers from Facebook who sprang into action to try to find where these  people lived.

I called the family this morning at a rude hour to insure I could actually speak with somebody.  Yes, they had seen the cat but they didn't want to touch him because he "might have fleas".  "Fuck.  Seriously?"  But I got their address and was told that I could come to their home to look around.

I grabbed my rescue partner Shelley and we drove into another area of the city where the roads  were sheets of ice.  Anyone with any common sense wouldn't have gone out this morning.  But I kept picturing that chubby orange and white body.  He was somebody's pet at some point.  He wasn't like the other ferals.

The house was a typical cookie cutter with a lovely backyard.  They kept their promise by leaving the gate unlocked for us and we found the chair covered with a quilt and empty.  Apparently, he goes under the fence in the house in the back.  My hands were freezing fast and my ears felt like they  were going to snap off, but Shelley climbed on top of a milk crate and peeped over the fence.

He could be anywhere.

We called "Kitty Kitty" as our lips froze.  The family had bought a live trap, but I was certain that they didn't have the common sense to check the damn thing and I knew our boy would freeze to death tonight.

My heart hurts tonight and this story doesn't have the ending I had hoped.  I hear the wind whistling through our old Victorian house and "my boy" is still out there somewhere.  I won't sleep well and I'm leaving for Seattle tomorrow to visit my parents.  Sure, there are lots of cats that have no homes and are cold tonight. Many won't survive tonight.  But there was something about this one and I wanted to save his life.

I'll be thinking about this poor soul tonight.  I'll be thinking about all of them.

Happy New Year!

I don't think I've ever felt it so cold before.  We're in a deep freeze in the Toronto area and instead of snuggling with my sweetie by the fire I have found myself very depressed thinking about the abandoned domestic animals who are outside and have no escape.  I received a call last night from a woman who went out and rescued a "shivering, skinny cat" who was living under a loading dock.  I guess that was the trigger for me and I felt so helpless for them all.

Yesterday, we moved into our new Petsmart location.  The staff was great and it was sort of  like playing house as we set up in the new store.  This particular store is only about 10 minutes from my house, so that's going to be helpful in the event of emergencies, etc.  The exciting part was we already had TWO adoptions while we were there setting up!   Fingers are crossed that this is a good location for us.

I received some feedback from my last post regarding the "rescuer" who threatened to euthanize cats with ringworm unless she received some help.  As I said in that post, I realize I'm very critical of other rescues mainly due to the fact that I don't want to end up in similar situations.  I take mental notes of other's mistakes and try not to repeat them.  Of course, some things are unavoidable.

 I'm in agreement with several large local Humane Societies that private rescues like mine and others should have some kind of accountability and inspection.  There are people out there calling themselves "rescues" that should never  be running a rescue.  I'm not talking about a single person trapping cats, spay/neuter and releasing them - or finding homes.  I'm talking about people with a rescue "name on the door".  They have no fiscal responsibility to themselves or others.  They rescue cats and hope for the best!  They mean well and are usually very caring people, but many live in horrible conditions with many cats.  It's been my experience that they have a certain local following and supporters, but mainly because they don't turn people down who want to dump or rescue cats.  

 I can tell you that I miscounted our stats for 2013 - we had 715 adoptions - not the 600 that I previously reported.    So much for my mathematical wizardry!   So here we are - 2014.  What will the year bring?   I suppose it will bring the usual life's ups and downs.

But is it too much to ask for more ups than downs?  :)

Adios 2013 - Don't Let the Door Hit You On Your Way Out.....

December 31st.  I guess this is where I'm supposed to remember 2013 and post a bunch of stuff about the past year.  I love statistics.  In fact, I minored in Quantitative Analysis in University many decades ago.  I used to keep stats on lots of things and post them here.  Honestly? It's really just a bunch of numbers that says people STILL aren't getting their pets fixed and over burdened shelters are still killing the ones that nobody wants.

We had a beautifully successful year for the rescue.  As I type this, we are just a few adoptions short of 600 adoptions for 2013.  SIX HUNDRED souls now have homes that are Forever when they had no hope at all.
Just that stat alone is enough to keep me going for 2014.

I acknowledge that I'm often very critical of other rescues.  Maybe it's my own insecurities showing, but mainly it's because I'm terrified of making the same mistakes.  One "rescue" recently publicly threatened to euthanize a bunch of cats in her care unless another rescues helped her.  She didn't have any room for these cats.. Ironically, this woman is an advocate for CHANGE at the high-kill shelter, where they euthanize cats for time and space!   I think the most shocking part of this was that people were rallying to help this woman!  They were sending her money, etc.   Yes, this woman continues to run a local rescue despite (what I believe to be) extorting money from people on Facebook.

Have I been doing it wrong all this time?   I've always felt that being fiscally responsible is the ONLY  way that people will rally to help me and our rescue.  Who wants to give a "rescue" $20.00 for them to squander it away?  I watched in horror as the Facebook people were offering hundred's of $$'s to this woman who said she was going to kill her rescued cats in her care and it was going to "kill her to do so".  Did they realize they might be giving her hundred's of $$'s to kill the cats she promised to help?

I've banged my head against the wall a number of times over this and still can't figure it out.  

Regardless, I'm a happy and grateful rescuer that is blessed to have some of the best volunteers around.  We have a drama-free rescue with people who all like each other and support one another.  Even if we don't always agree,  or have moments of frustration, we are assured that we're all doing the very best we can for the cats.

I'll be happy to say goodbye to 2013 and welcome a new year with new hope and energy.

Yes....energy.  Emphasis on energy...please.




 

June Cleaver With Cats

Am I the only one that is relieved when Christmas is over?  I found myself mildly sick the week before Christmas and only when it became "Christmas Crunch Time" did I recognize how really crappy I  felt.  By that time, I was expected to be June Cleaver with things baking, presents wrapped and the house smelling like gingerbread.   I had a low-grade fever and was feeling resentful with a pasted smile on my face.  

No wonder I'm so relieved when Christmas is over!!

Today was the first somewhat normal rescue day.  We went to the low-kill shelter and rescued 7 or 8 cats.   I think we only rescued 2 older kittens and the rest were really sweet adult cats.  It felt good to be there and rescuing with the least amount of stress.  I didn't really feel like we were leaving behind anyone to die and the staff was happy to see us.

I have two sick kittens in my "kitten room".  Colourful snot and various sounds of snorting and sneezing permeate the walls.  I've been so busy that I haven't been able to spend  as much time with these two cuties as I would've liked, so now when I go into the room they look at me like, "HOLY SHIT!  RUN!  She's going to put stuff in our eyes and squirt gunk down our throats!!! ARGH!!!!"   Poor guys -- I need to lay down with them and read a book or something.

Every year on Boxing Day (December 26th), we meet with David's extended family for some holiday catching up.  They're really a lovely family and I really enjoy them.  But every time we're together the very first question that is asked is, "So Beth.  How many cats do you have now?"  It's like out of a commercial or something - forks drop to the plates, the the usual murmurs of conversations subside. "How many, Beth?"  Seriously - no matter what number I would say, they all exclaim "WHOA!!!!!"   Sometimes I feel like the family freak show that they talk about after we leave.  As we walk down the driveway, I can almost hear them say, "David should've stayed married to Gaylle...they only had 1 dog then!"  Blah blah blah.

Ooo.  My insecurities are showing!  What would June Cleaver say?






 

Hoarding, Divorce, Bad Hair and Sweatpants

("F" Word Alert in this post)

Never was I happier to hear a friend's voice than when my partner in rescue (and friend!) called me on Thursday morning to let me know she was back from her 8 day holiday in Cuba.  When her number showed up on my caller ID, I had a sudden moment of absolute relief.  It was the kind of relief I felt when I was 22 years old and brought home my first newborn daughter from the hospital and my Mom took over and gave her her first bath.  Thank God.

Thursday was insane!  I rescued 10 cats from the low-kill city pound and 1 cat that I had  pledged to rescue form the high-kill shelter.  I made 3 vet visits, delivered cats to two different foster parents and put other kittens into a Petsmart Adoption Centre.  I left that morning at 9 am, and arrived home at 4 pm.  

So...yeah.  I was relieved to hear from Shelley.   Don't get me wrong - we had AWESOME volunteers helping me while she was away.  In fact, things were great - I didn't have to worry about Petsmart at all! Things were smooth running and I was grateful.

There's something so sad about rescuing 10 cats from the low-kill city pound and only rescuing 1 cat from the high kill shelter.  We've been doing a BUNCH of rescuing from the high kill shelter lately and the rescue's bank balance is certainly feeling the pinch.  I really have to juggle and insure that we're making sound financial decisions all the time.

I had a moment of insanity when I read a post on Facebook that some Wannabe Armchair Rescuer said:  "It's not really a rescue unless you take any cat that needs help.  Otherwise, it's just a business."  

"Call me a fucking business, you pinhead."

How on earth can I take EVERY CAT THAT NEEDS HELP?  Does this moron know how many millions of cats there are that need help? Does he know how many calls I get on the average day for cats  needing help?    Would I like to help every cat?  I sure would!  But I'd end up a hoarder, divorced, with bad hair and wearing sweat pants.  You know I'm right.  You've seen those people.  

(*insert deep breath here*)

 

  

I Wanted To...

I think there were cobwebs on the login page of this blog.  It's been almost two months since I've stopped writing and disappeared.  Those who read this blog and know me personally, know that I've been OK and trying to sort some things out.

There's no doubt that I lost my mojo for writing here.  After 5 years of writing, I felt like so many of my posts sounded angry, jaded and genuinely pissed off.  I was certain that people were reading my blog thinking, "What a little whiner!" or  "Same shit, different day. "  I had spent some time rereading my older posts when I was still so excited about rescuing and would leave the shelter with 20+ cats in my car!  It was joyful and I used to look forward to writing about my daily events after I put dinner in the oven and waited for David to come home.  I used to write about funny things and laugh at my own inadequacies.

So how do I begin writing again?  What do I  say that could possibility hold my interest and yours too?  I've always written for myself.

I wanted to... write the day our beloved cat "Pella" unexpectedly died.  I was so angry that day.  She came to me after being thrown out of a car window in a box with her litter of kittens.  I had so much to say about her. She was the best cat we ever had.  Everybody loved that chubby "Bowling ball"  black cat.

I wanted to... write when we started fostering an ancient pug named "Doug".  He has brought so much joy into our home.  I wanted to tell you that he snores and farts.

I wanted to... let you all know how much I  appreciated the amazing outpouring of love and care after I wrote about my son leaving an abusive relationship.  Read about it here.   I wanted you to know that he's living in our spare room and very depressed.  We're trying to get him some help, but he's stubborn.  I wanted you to know that HIS CATS haven't left his side.  They love him.

I wanted to....tell you that  we took on another Petsmart store beginning in January!  It looks like we'll be able to rescue more cats.

I wanted to....tell you that I played with two severely handicapped 8 week old kittens, then had to authorize their euthanasia.  I had to separate the less handicapped baby from his severely handicapped brothers before they were lovingly put to sleep.  The remaining sibling cried for his brothers.  It was a day that I  needed to talk and share.

There has been so much to share and so much I've wanted to write about.  But I've felt frozen and incapable of saying anything that was meaningful to anybody.  How long do people write in blogs?  I've had a lot of emails from people asking me to write again.

I've missed you too.

So You Want Your Own Rescue?

Before I write any further, I wanted to thank everyone that commented or sent me private emails pertaining to my concerns and fears for my son.  If you missed it, you can read about it here.  I've read him many of your supportive comments and emails.  Many of you shared some pretty private stuff.  So far, he's doing ok and remains with us and out of contact with his abusive girlfriend.

Can't I just go back to buying Ninja Turtle stuff and Pokemon cards?  I miss those days.

It was a rough day.  Our "Melvin" passed away.  You can read about him here.  I always grieve for every loss of little life.  But it's been a while since I sobbed after authorizing his euthanasia this afternoon.  Losing Melvin really hurt.  I guess I put myself too far out on an emotional limb.  Maybe I've just been too stressed. Who knows?  But if you had met Melvin, you would've loved him too.  His vet bills will be in the thousands of dollars.  Ugh :(

Lately, there's been lots of talk on social media sites about several "rescues" that shouldn't be calling themselves "rescues".  Some people are starting a rescue of their own.  But you need more than just a name to start a rescue.

Let me tell you what you're buying into:

1.  You'll be financially and emotionally responsible for EVERY cat and EVERY volunteer in your organization.

2.  You'll need to be available 7 days per week and 24 hours per day.

3.  Looking for volunteers?  Good luck with that - so is every animal rescue organization.  What makes you think you're so special?

4.  YOU will be the only one that can say, "Yes, I authorize the euthanasia."  and accept the consequences of those actions.  You'll have to deal with your own grief and those of the volunteer that has loved him.

5.  After you've spent THOUSANDS of dollars on a kitten that has died anyway, you'll have to sit and wonder if you made the right decision.  Think of the cats you could've saved with that money!

6.  Then you realize:  He was worth every penny.

7.  People will get angry with you.  They'll adopt a wonderful, healthy cat who will get sick two weeks after adoption and they'll blame you.  They'll want their money back.  They'll want to give back the cat.  They'll threaten to tell all their friends how shitty YOUR rescue is, and it'll be your job to professionally choke back what you REALLY want to say and give them their money back so you can bring back the cat into your rescue and away from those assholes who shouldn't have adopted him anyway.

8.  You'll need money.  LOTS of money.  Money for spays and neuters, vaccinations, deworming, and vet exams.  There will be worried foster parents that will call you at 2 am about a limping kitten and x-rays that will be needed.  There will be "Melvins" that cost thousands of $$'s and you can't say that you don't have the money to treat him.  The cat AND the volunteer that loves him are counting on YOU to make sound financial decisions for the rescue to insure that there is always enough money for emergencies.

9.  Of course, you'll want your adoption fee to include the spay or neuter surgery.  If you're a legitimate rescue and are concerned about cat overpopulation, you'll insist on it.  Who is going to pay the vets?

10.  Ah yes.  Our hardworking veterinarians!  They deserve to get paid on time.  How quickly your bills will add up!!  It's always more than you think it's going to be.  Our rescue has 22 affiliated veterinarians to insure that ALL of our volunteers and adopters have a clinic nearby.

11.   Your family won't be happy because the calls will come in during movies, dinners, and family events.  They'll glare at you as it rings....AGAIN.    You can turn off your cell phone, but you know it'll be ringing and the voicemails will be waiting for you.  Your heart will always be thinking about who might be calling.

12.  Bookkeeping.  Yes, Revenue Canada (Canadian IRS) will want to know what you're doing.  Even if you're not a Registered Canadian Charity, you'll still have to keep track of your accounts.  Don't know the difference between a credit and a debit?  That's a shame.  Find somebody who does.

13.  How will all these cats that you're rescuing get adopted?  Sure, you want to help them all.  People will constantly call you.  You'll have to learn to say "no".  Your heart will hurt when they ask you to rescue a black cat and you already have 20 in your program.  Foster parents will wonder why THEIR foster cat hasn't been adopted.

14.  Think this isn't a business?  Think again.

15.  Just as you think things are organized and you have a moment to breathe, one of your foster parents will need a break and a cat will need to be moved, or an adopted cat is being returned because it's pee'ing on the couch.  Of course, the adopter didn't get the urine tested!  You'll have to pay for that when the cat comes back!

Believe me - I've barely scratched the surface.  I'm sure those who are reading could add to this list - please do!!!  

Negative post tonight?  Maybe.  But don't let it fool you - Cat rescue has been by far the most rewarding thing I've ever done with my life.  I love the people that I work with and I wake up each day wondering who will be adopted and who I can help.  I'm frustrated, frightened and my anxiety is always peaked.  But I wouldn't trade my life for anything.

A Different Blog Post

The urgent calls for abandoned kittens and pregnant Mom cats have now been replaced with calls about young cats (probably born in spring) that are outside for the upcoming winter.  It's a never ending cycle that keeps me constantly on edge.  Each day I look at the weather and am  grateful for the momentary lapse in frigid weather.

I don't really have anything controversial to write about today.  I've started to write about the several local "rescues" who have turned out to be hoarders and one in particular who continues to dodge the authorities.  Sometimes I'm in the mood to argue a point and other times...well...I feel too beaten up to do it.

My 25 year old son fled his apartment where he lived with his girlfriend and 2 cats the other night.   He showed up at our door at 7 am with 2 cats and all of his belongings.  We knew that the girl was abusive and my son was "battered".  But he wouldn't leave her and despite numerous attempts and begging from us he'd go back.  He came home bruised and a bone broken in his foot where she stomped on it.   Apparently, he woke up in the middle of the night with a knife to his throat.  Police were called and she was taken away - ANOTHER 3 day psych watch where she leaves only to return the same pathetic mentally ill human being.

So why am I writing about this?  My sons cats were our cats.   They used to live with us.  They have observed the abuse and I can say that they seem different.  Sure, they're worried about a new environment.  But you can tell that they seem happier in a happier home with peace.  They have stuck to my son like glue - sitting on his bed and running to him when he comes through the door after work.  Since my son was always going back to the crazy girl, I was terrified that she would do something to the cats too.  They were innocent and frightened of the yelling, screaming and throwing things.

Now there are 2 more cats in our house and the games for dominance begins.  I'm already stressed, so the hissing, growling and usual cat-crappiness isn't helping.   We're trying to help our son and once again, begging him to consider counseling and praying he doesn't return to her.  He's  handsome, smart and adores cats....you'd think that the world of women would be his, wouldn't you?  A guy like that should never have to settle for someone like that.  But it appears to be textbook.  Men.  Women.  It doesn't seem to matter.

Writing about this is really helping me today.  If I can't save my son from going back, I'm going to save his cats and make sure they remain with me.  Each day that he doesn't go back is a victory - for him, for us and his two cats.  Maybe this time he can do it.

Catching Up

Whenever I haven't blogged in a week, you can bet that I'm in over my head.  That seems to be the case and I'm not the only one scrambling.  The high kill shelter is full, our foster parents homes are full and the phone is still ringing.

Whenever I publicly post that we had a successful adoption event, my phone suddenly starts ringing with strays, owner surrenders and calls from the shelters.  Last Thursday, we had a "Black Cat and Black Kitten Adoption Event".  That included black and white cats too.  It was only a FIVE hour event and the rescue took quite a loss by allowing these loving, overlooked cats at a $75.00 adoption fee which included surgeries, vaccinations, etc, etc.  

Ironically, 13 were adopted (out of 20 cats there)!  I'll do it again - it was terrific, and no way was I worried about the ridiculous old wives tale about people doing terrible things to black cats and not to adopt them in October.  I'm sure it has happened - but I doubt the satanic folks are going to pay an adoption fee for a black cat.  I think the best part was that EVERY ADOPTER had planned on coming to the event.  Nobody came and tried to adopt on the spur of the moment.  Fabulous!

I was at the "high kill shelter" yesterday and had planned on rescuing 4 cats.  My rescue partner and I walked out with 12.  Not surprised?  :)  This morning is the euthanasia day and the tech walked the cages with us.  It's very sobering and I don't handle it as well as I used to.  I found my shoulders slumping lower and lower as I saw all the little faces and no space for them all.  

We rescued a cat that had come into the shelter with a tail so severely burned that it had to be amputated.  This shelter gets a VERY bad rap from The Crazy Protesters and those that don't understand, but this shelter paid for this guy to have surgery AND neuter him for us:

 We named him "Bob". He REALLY wanted out of the shelter. I've never met such a muscular cat! Loved him!

Every once in a while, I feel like I need to sit down and reconnect with the foster parents.  Not-so-ironically, I feel this way after kitten season slows down.  I think our volunteers understand that there are some days where I wake up, start returning calls from our adoption phones and never stop until 9 pm.  Even then, I'm still answering emails past 9.  Yesterday was one of those days and today will be too.

THEN...there is "Melvin".  Melvin was found in a ravine.  He had 200+ fleas on him, he was blind, and has a huge neurological deficit.  His well-meaning finder had him for 48 hours without money to give him proper care.  He was almost dead by the time I brought him to the vet.

I won't need Halloween to scare me - Our vet bill for this guy will probably do the trick.

 But look how CUTE he is! I'm terrified that the person who has offered to take him will renege. I don't know what I'm going to do with him if she does.

I'm juggling cats today and know that I'm not alone.  There are a lot of us out there juggling cats and doing our best within our means.  Where's a B12 shot when I need one?

Get Hurt Trying

I've been struggling the past week.  We've had kittens die from recalled Iams food.  How can you console a loving foster parent that she inadvertently gave cat food that killed 3 of her kittens?   We can go into the legal ramifications of the company that poisoned the cats...yada....yada...yada.  There were no vet bills to be reimbursed.  The kittens vomited once and died within 20 minutes.  No other symptoms.  I don't want to talk about food recalls in this post.  I'm just too pissed to have an intelligent conversation about it.  

I'm sure I'll hear from lots of caring rescuers asking if it was Distemper....blah blah blah...no, it wasn't.  It was the food...on a recalled cat food list that came out yesterday.

Last night, I offered to help a black kitten that was found in a ravine.  He is about 8 weeks old, starving, dehydrated, etc.  I picked him up this morning (from a friend of the finder) and found that he was almost dead.  The fleas were jumping off his tiny body and his gums were white with anemia and dehydration.  He was  starting to have seizures as I quickly wrapped his tiny body in the towel and jumped in my car.

I don't remember driving to the vets.  I remember being flipped off by another car and almost running over a Mom and child in the crosswalk as I sailed through far too quickly.  The vet wanted to euthanize the little guy, but I really wanted to TRY.  That's all I wanted....just to TRY.  Damnit, he survived in the wild and he deserved for a rescue to try to save his life.  The managed to get an IV into his dehydrated vein, and treated him for hundreds of fleas that were slowly killing him. As I type this blog post, he's still alive.

All we can do is try, right?  Both of the people that I'm talking about - our wonderful foster Mom and the woman that kept the black kitten last night TRIED.  I get sick of hearing people whining about "Ooo, I could never foster, because I'd get too attached."  Well...shit.  Get hurt TRYING.