tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332886432024-03-19T07:56:47.197-04:00RockyCatrockygracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14457010488015617811noreply@blogger.comBlogger2963125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33288643.post-90854715066702042142019-12-30T19:39:00.003-05:002019-12-30T19:39:28.709-05:00Recently Read<br />
Hi everybody! Long time no see! I thought I'd pop by with a Recently Read. As usual, read 'em if you wanna.<br />
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1. <u>Nomads of a Desert City</u> by Barbara Seyda - Nonfiction; vignettes of homeless people in Tuscon. Told in their own words, these stories are striking. A quick read that will stay in your mind afterward.<br />
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2. <u>Winds of Skilak</u> by Bonnie Rose Ward - Memoir of homesteading in Alaska in the 1980s. Lots of details and very interesting. <br />
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3. <u>Southern Discomfort</u> by Tena Clark - Memoir of a young woman growing up in the South in the 60s. Really good. I grew up in the 60s, too, and this book really brought home just how entrenched racism was in the South back then. But the book's not "just" about racism - it's about dealing with family nutcases, and trying to find your footing when you're different from those around you. <br />
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4. <u>The Once and Future King</u> by T.H. White - Described as a "fantasy classic" in the vein of The Hobbit, etc., I was plugging along on this one until a scene describing the brutal death of a cat and then I noped noped noped right out. Did not finish.<br />
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5. <u>City of Girls</u> by Elizabeth Gilbert - I didn't realize who the author was until I took it home from the library. Unfortunately, I find the author of "Eat, Pray, Love" to be absolutely insufferable, so I only got far enough in this one to see that she was basically working from a genre checklist, and put it aside. Did not finish.<br />
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6. <u>The Boy Kings of Texas</u> by Domingo Martinez - Memoir of growing up poor in a Texas border town in the 70s and 80s. Good.<br />
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7. <u>Finding Dorothy<i> </i></u>by Elizabeth Letts - Novel about the writing of the Wizard and Oz and, years later, the making of the movie. Very good - I really enjoyed it.<br />
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8. <u>The Paper Wasp</u> by Lauren Acampora - Novel about two high school friends, one famous and one unbalanced, and what happens when they meet again in adulthood. This got good reviews so I gave it a shot. An okay read.<br />
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9. <u>City of Flickering Light</u> by Juliette Fay. This was a historical novel about Hollywood in the 1920s by the author of <u>The Tumbling Turner Sisters.</u> I enjoyed it a lot; a fast-paced, light read.<br />
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10. <u>The Able McLaughlins</u> - Pulitzer-prize winning novel from the 20s about early settlers in the midwest. Right up my alley, but it just seemed awfully dated. Did not finish.<br />
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11. <u>Freeman</u> by Leonard Pitts, Jr. - Novel by the noted columnist about the aftereffects of the Civil War on former slaves and an abolitionist. Involving and good.<br />
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12. <u>All the Forgivenesses</u> by Elizabeth Hardinger - Novel about growing up extremely poor in Kentucky. Very good.<br />
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13. <u>Orphan Train</u> by Christina Baker Kline - Historical novel about the childhood of a little girl placed on an orphan train in the late 1800s. Good.<br />
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14. <u>Once Upon a River</u> by Bonnie Jo Campbell - Novel about a teen traveling on a river after events break up her family. Started out strong, but became more improbable and less interesting as it went along. Did not finish.<br />
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15. <u>Where the Crawdads Sing</u>, by Delia Owens. The first half of this novel was fabulous, detailing a young woman growing up wild in North Carolina marshland. But then it turned into a poorly-dialogued murder mystery, and I lost interest. Did not finish.<br />
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16. <u>One Day</u> by Gene Weingarten - Nonfiction consisting of short vignettes about defining moments in people's lives. I LOVED <u>I Thought My Father Was God</u> by Paul Auster, which had a similar premise, but unfortunately <u>One Day</u> had a very strong Paul-Harvey-The-Rest-of-the-Story vibe to it, unlike Paul Auster's book, which just let people tell their stories, so while <u>One Day</u> was an okay read, it was just that - okay. And one of the vignettes, about spousal abuse, was frankly so horrifying that I put the book down and walked away. Did not finish.<br />
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17. <u>The Speed Queen</u> by Stewart O'Nan - A previous book of his, <u>Last Night at the Lobster</u>, showed that O'Nan has a real talent for writing about marginalized people, and I really enjoyed <u>The Speed Queen</u>, a novel about a young woman sitting on death row for crimes she was party to. Very good - I really liked this one.<br />
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So there you go! A long-delayed Recently Read. What have you been reading lately? <br />
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<br />rockygracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14457010488015617811noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33288643.post-83272158523265832042019-08-24T20:19:00.002-04:002019-08-24T20:19:54.477-04:00Are you ready for the Fair?!<div style="text-align: center;">
Yep - it's that time of year again - the great New York State Fair! I took a day off work and went up with a friend.</div>
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We watched some of the 4H judging: </div>
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and some of the horse-jumping competition:</div>
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We fed the giraffes:</div>
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We saw the Birds of Prey exhibit:</div>
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Lunch was pulled pork and sausage sandwiches:</div>
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We gawked at birds and they gawked back:</div>
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We saw lambs with coats on:</div>
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And we wrapped up the day with an aerial tram ride that took us up and over the midway:</div>
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According to Patti's fitbit, we walked just over seven miles, and it was worth every step. Another perfect day at the Fair. :) </div>
rockygracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14457010488015617811noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33288643.post-44923765541224554662019-08-02T20:15:00.001-04:002019-08-02T20:15:24.955-04:00Foster Camp Update!Let's see, I think I made a brief reference in an earlier post to the new Foster Campers. I think it's time for an update.<br />
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The campers I had been fostering for the rescue for which I had been volunteering (lots of past tense, there), went to my friend Sarah's house so that I could put Good Boy in the foster room while I worked on smoothing his integration into the Permacats.<br />
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Once THAT was accomplished, I realized it was time to look for a new rescue to devote my volunteering efforts toward. While the rescue I had been volunteering for certainly accomplishes lots of good things, their colossal failure of the Good Boy situation left a bad taste in my mouth. The founder of the rescue never apologized for what happened to Good Boy, instead throwing one of the other volunteers, a good friend of hers, under the bus, blame-wise, and when I called her out on THAT, she resorted to bullying tactics to try to keep me in line. Oh, hi, have you ever MET me?! The one thing that will NEVER work on me is bullying. :) <br />
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So I went to another local rescue and filled out the volunteer foster paperwork, and within a day they called me, which is how I got Toby Thomas, a scared-to-death feral kitten who needed LOTS of forced handling to tame. He was 12 weeks old when I got him, which is old to try to tame a feral, but with time and work he came around.<br />
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But Toby was lonely, and still not fond of human contact. What to do? Why, go to the rescue and bring home a kitten to show him the ropes, of course! Which is where Nani came into the picture:<br />
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And then I started trapping for TNR in a neighborhood, and I noticed a tiny little kitten running around in the street. I asked the people I was trapping for to try and catch him, because I thought he was young enough to successfully socialize, and he was so terribly thin I was worried about him. On Wednesday night, I had to go out to trap, and we managed to get the kitten into a carrier. I took him home, kept him separated from the other cats because due to his poor condition I was worried about feline leukemia, and took him to the vet the next morning.<br />
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He tested negative for leukemia (yaaaay!), but was crawling with fleas and ear mites and loaded with worms. Several medications and a bath later, he's here at Foster Camp to gain some weight and get used to human attention. And I've named him Two Miles, after the location where he was trapped.<br />
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So there you have it! Foster Campers, Summer 2019 Session: Toby Thomas, Nani, and Two Miles. :) <br />
rockygracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14457010488015617811noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33288643.post-82509145166449525922019-07-22T17:22:00.000-04:002019-07-22T17:22:12.541-04:00Where does the money go<br />
First off, thank you to Ginny! For sending me a gift card to commemorate the arrival of Good Boy, which I promptly spent on this:<br />
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I mean, COME ON!! How cute is THAT?!<br />
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Since my sister left me money, the vast majority of it has been reinvested. But I've been able to spend some of it in a "why not?" kind of way, like,<br />
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I sponsored a matching fundraiser for a local animal rescue, which raised almost three grand!</div>
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When an acquaintance of mine's mom passed away very unexpectedly, leaving my acquaintance to ponder the realities of, among other things, going from a three cat household to a six cat household, I placed a massive Chewy order and had it delivered to her, so at least she didn't have to worry about buying cat food and litter for a while.</div>
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I saw a facebook post in which a local wildlife rehabilitation outfit had trapped a small feral kitten for TNR, only to discover that the kitten had a prolapsed rectum and would need three hundred dollars' worth of surgery to correct the problem. The comments on that post were pretty dismaying, along the lines of "why bother? It's just a feral," and "do you KNOW how many spays and neuters three hundred dollars will pay for?", neither of which, as far as I was concerned, addressed the problem at hand, which was a little kitten with a correctable problem, so I contacted the outfit and paid the bill. Take THAT, haters. Haha. </div>
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I finally, FINALLY got t-shirts printed up for the little TNR group I run, and I'll be handing them out to the volunteers, i.e., my friends that I've sucked into helping, the next time we trap, which is coming up in a couple of weeks.</div>
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And finally, most of you know that I love summer. I REALLY love summer. And I love hot weather, as evidenced by the fact that yesterday it was approximately a thousand degrees here with one billion percent humidity, and I went and paddled a local river for three hours.</div>
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But! What I DON'T love about summer is the nights when the temp doesn't leave the seventies and it's still one billion percent humidity, and all the fans in the world won't stop me from lying in my bed sweating.</div>
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So this morning I contacted my furnace guy, who also does plumbing and AC, to see about getting central air installed. BECAUSE I CAN. </div>
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And THAT's where the money goes. :) </div>
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rockygracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14457010488015617811noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33288643.post-9560599475388836522019-07-14T21:38:00.000-04:002019-07-14T21:38:10.216-04:00Vacation, all I ever dreamed of I've been on vacation for the last week and a half, and it's been awesome! Beautiful weather. God, I love summertime.<br />
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I dressed Good Boy up for the Fourth, because there's nothing better than a cat who will let you outfit him ridiculously:<br />
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Went to the Cornell Botanical Gardens for a day that was hot and humid and almost melted me:<br />
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Thank you Ginny for the new lawn art!:</div>
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The turk's cap lilies in my own garden aren't blooming yet, but I was lucky enough to find some wild ones to photograph:</div>
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Here I am at the Rockwell Museum in Corning, posing in front of a picture I absolutely painted myself using a Bob Ross video:<br />
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I walked a lot of waterfalls:</div>
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What's this? Looks like Foster Camp is back in session! </div>
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That is a potato chip in his carrier. Because people are dipshits.</div>
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And then there were two:</div>
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You'd better believe there was lots of paddling:</div>
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and snakes! </div>
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What a great time. And the State Fair is just around the corner! Summer is the best.</div>
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rockygracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14457010488015617811noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33288643.post-8695000563980920902019-06-30T10:38:00.000-04:002019-06-30T10:38:02.607-04:00Gonna take you down to ... Dino Towwwwwwwn<div style="text-align: center;">
About a week ago, I saw this in a store and could not resist:</div>
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This? Is gonna take a while:</div>
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It's Alive!:</div>
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How cool is THIS?!:</div>
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""Look what the cat dragged in," my butt!", Pony says. "*I* didn't bring this thing home!":</div>
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"He DOES make lots of shade, though,":</div>
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"Say hello to my little friend":</div>
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Sodapop is decidedly unimpressed. "Outta my way, buddy, coming through."</div>
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2019: Summer of the Dino. :) </div>
rockygracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14457010488015617811noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33288643.post-12235140005784306832019-06-21T08:10:00.000-04:002019-06-21T08:10:24.508-04:00The Good Boy Chronicles: Step By StepFirst off, I'd like to thank everyone for your relocation ideas - very helpful! You've definitely given me a lot to think about. Feel free to keep adding suggestions!<br />
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I realized today that I haven't posted about Good Boy since his dramatic rescue, so let's get caught up, shall we?<br />
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One of the first things I did was take Good Boy to my own vet. Seeing as the rescue does not follow as stringent a vaccination schedule as my own vet does, I wanted to take him in for a get-acquainted visit and to see what the vet recommended as far as further vaccinations. I know that opinions vary widely on this topic, but it makes me feel better to err on the side of caution. Are cats over-vaccinated? Possibly. Do I still follow my vet's recommendations? Yes.<br />
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Long story short: Sorry, bud, you're getting the needle.<br />
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At home, I kept him in the foster room full time at first. Given his iffy past history with permacat Tinks, I knew I was going to have to take things slow as far as introducing him to the other cats. But I would be lying if I said I wasn't VERY happy to finally have a cat who would let me dress him up in ridiculous costumes:<br />
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Time to explore:</div>
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We did site-swapping ala Jackson Galaxy at first. I would only let Good Boy into a room when the permacats were elsewhere. That way he could get the lay of the land without having to deal with cat drama.</div>
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"Well, there's the birdfeeder, but where's the birds, lady?"</div>
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Blind date time. "Do you eat here often?"</div>
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I started introducing the cats at mealtimes, one at a time, at first placing the bowls on opposite sides of the kitchen, and gradually moving them closer and closer. I doubt they'll ever be eating the same strand of spaghetti like Lady and the Tramp, but they can peacefully eat side by side.<br />
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The only glitch so far is that Good Boy is so eager to hang out with the other cats, and he's so big and, well, clumsy, that he tends to galumph toward them at full speed, and they get scared and vamoose. <br />
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Long story short: It's going fine, if slowly. I'm so determined to do this right, as opposed to my usual modus operandi, which is slapdash and half-assed, that so far all is well. Nobody is overly stressed, there has been no major cat drama, and I'm hoping that soon, it'll be like Good Boy has been here all along. <br />
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What's one more, anyway? :) <br />
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<br />rockygracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14457010488015617811noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33288643.post-44263698201511445272019-06-08T19:57:00.000-04:002019-06-08T19:57:58.351-04:00Sell me on your city!As some of you know, I'm planning on relocating within the next few years. Upstate New York is absolutely beautiful in the summertime, but the winters? No way. The older I get, the more tired I am of dealing with cold and snow and terrible, icy roads several months of the year.<br />
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So! To where should I move? Definitely south, probably quite a BIT south. And here's where I could use your opinions. Where do YOU live? Do you like it, and why? Is the climate temperate? How about the cost of living? Crime rate?<br />
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My current neighborhood is in a semi-rural area not far from a small-ish city, and that's kind of what I'm looking for, but without the ice and snow. But if you live someplace completely DIFFERENT from that and absolutely love it, I wanna hear about that, too!<br />
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Sell me on your city! your county! your state! What do you love about where you live?rockygracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14457010488015617811noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33288643.post-91615094679256846462019-06-02T18:05:00.002-04:002019-06-02T18:05:58.004-04:00Soggy Sunday at Salt Springs<br />
It was raining pretty good this morning, but I decided to go for a hike anyway. Around here, if I waited for the rain to stop before I went outside, I'd never leave the house. So I grabbed a raincoat and off I went.<br />
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In a steady rain, I pulled into the parking lot at Salt Springs State Park to discover it ... empty. Good! More park for me. :)<br />
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Due to recent severe storms and flash flooding, the main picnic area was no more:<br />
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And the creek bridge which leads to most of the trails had been washed away and replaced with ... a rope handrail. I crossed over on the rocks. Onward! <br />
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All the rain has made things green green green:</div>
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And I swear the rain makes bright things look even brighter:</div>
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An old favorite, Penny Rock:</div>
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I thought the orange part of this fungus would be slimy, but it was firm and smooth instead:</div>
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This big ol' tree had grown across a bigger rock:</div>
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In bloom:</div>
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Heart rock, in the midst of all the flood damage:</div>
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and raindrops on the flowers:</div>
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By the time I was done hiking, my boots and socks were soaked and my jeans were wet up to my knees, but that's okay. It still was a good walk.rockygracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14457010488015617811noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33288643.post-74264995578939117652019-05-24T18:21:00.000-04:002019-05-24T18:21:32.865-04:00Well, if that don't beat all<br />
Some of you may recall that I was hired for my current job in a provisional capacity, meaning that the next time the civil service exam for my position was offered in my area, I would need to take the test and <a href="https://rockygrace.blogspot.com/2019/03/so-you-know-no-pressure-or-anything.html" target="_blank">finish in the top three positions</a> in order to become a permanent hire.<br />
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Back in early March I took the exam. Then, last month, still without knowing the results, I had to take a typing test, which is a requirement for the position. I was surprised to find out that the passing requirement was only 45 words per minute, and even MORE surprised to find out that only nine of the original 20 applicants for the position passed the typing portion (which is graded immediately upon completion of the test). Whoa. But at least now I knew that I was one of only nine.<br />
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And then I waited. And waited some more. And then, yesterday, the results were in.<br />
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Not only did I pass the exam, and not only did I finish in the top three positions,<br />
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I ACED THE TEST.<br />
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A perfect score. The ONLY ONE. The next closest applicants were ten points behind.<br />
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WHEW.<br />
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Now, I'll be honest here, the stakes for me were not as high as they once would have been, but still, this had become a matter of pride for me. I really, really wanted to do well on the test, just to prove to myself that I COULD. It had, after all, been many, many years since I had had to sit for an exam.<br />
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But I did it! and I ACED it.<br />
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DAMN I'M GOOD. :) <br />
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<br />rockygracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14457010488015617811noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33288643.post-9036497077255899682019-05-20T17:30:00.000-04:002019-05-20T20:42:38.894-04:00It's just all so ... strange (edited because I realized I forgot some very important stuff)<br />
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First of all, Good Boy continues to do well! He's been to see my vet and did fine, and I think I'm probably going to try introducing him into Gen Pop this coming weekend. We'll see how it goes!<br />
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And thank you so much to Ginny for the gift card so that I can pick out something special for him and let him know that it's from Aunt Ginny. :)<br />
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Thank you also to those who donated to the matching Facebook fundraiser I did for the rescue! Together we raised almost $3,000.00 in memory of Arline! I am currently looking for some smaller, up-and-coming local rescues who could use a wee bit of financial assistance. All in my sister's name, of course. <br />
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Ponyboy about gave me a heart attack the other day - I was petting him and felt an odd, hard LUMP in his belly. Given his medical history, I took him to the vet right away, and it turned out that he had somehow managed to bruise his "xiphoid process". Go ahead, google it, I'll wait ...<br />
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Leave it to PB to damage something I didn't even know EXISTED. But he's doing great and will make a full recovery.<br />
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Now to the strange part ... well, first off, not being able to talk to my sister, of course. I really, really miss just being able to pick up the phone and ... you know. Anyone who has ever lost a loved one knows how tough that is. <br />
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The other strange thing? The money. It just seems so WEIRD to have All. This. Money., and not to be able to talk about it. I mean, talking about money is just kind of ... gauche, isn't it? Not done? Especially since I did absolutely nothing to actually EARN this money?<br />
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But, I mean, every month I open up the statements from my investment accounts and I just want to do a happy dance. I understand, of course, that investments go up and go down, but right now, well ... my investment accounts earned more money in the first four months of 2019 than I will earn all YEAR at my job.<br />
<br />
Whoa.<br />
<br />
(And yes, these are solid investments - mutual funds and such - with an established firm with a proven track record of many decades. No, I am not investing in oil wells in Texas or Nigerian princes. It's all on the level.)<br />
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So I've got this money, and it's making MORE money, and it's all just such a KICK, and I ...can't really talk about it. Except to YOU, of course. I'm so glad I have you guys!<br />
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Don't hate me because I have money, okay? :)<br />
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<br />rockygracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14457010488015617811noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33288643.post-49529094010070407472019-05-12T18:42:00.001-04:002019-05-12T18:42:56.292-04:00Easter Sunday, Taughannock FallsFirst off, for all who are wondering, Good Boy is doing great! He is chilling in the foster room, because I want to take introductions to the other cats very slooooowly. But he is happy as a clam and purring it up. :) <br />
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Easter Sunday dawned cold and rainy, as so much of this spring has been. So I decided a little road trip was in order. Because why not? Time to do some hiking.<br />
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Well, THIS looks promising! :)</div>
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Stairs. Why does it always have to be stairs?: </div>
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Before you can see the falls, you can hear them:</div>
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These guys brought their shovels:</div>
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Past the main falls are the upper falls:</div>
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And the main event:</div>
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I headed across the street to the marina, empty this time of year:</div>
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and the lake:</div>
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and something totally unexpected: Loons!</div>
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But soon enough it was time to head home, with a stop for Easter dinner:</div>
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A fine Easter Sunday, indeed.</div>
rockygracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14457010488015617811noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33288643.post-37651521652367507102019-05-05T16:42:00.001-04:002019-05-05T16:42:37.193-04:00Good Boy Chronicles: Extraction!<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Okay, again: Good Boy is FINE. And also, this is the last part of a multi-part story, so if you want to start from the beginning, scroll down until you hit the "Good Boy Chronicles: Disappeared" post, and read up from there. Now settle in for a long read.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Here we go!</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">When I left off, Good Boy had been located. He was alive and under the floor of the adopter's house. Now we just had to get him out.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">The firefighter knelt down by the hole under the sink, because he thought that one would be easiest to enlarge, and stuck his hand in the hole, feeling around to see how much material would have to be removed to allow access. "He's headbutting my hand!," he called. "His head is right here!" </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">We all crowded around the hole, with the vet tech aiming a flashlight. There ... he ... was ... just the top of his head, visible between the piping and the floorboards.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">"There's not enough room," the firefighter said. "He's right here, but he can't get out of this hole unless we get some of this flooring up."</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">The firefighter and the contractor started taking turns pulling on the floorboards and unscrewing the metal clamps that held the sink piping in place. They didn't want to use power tools in order to avoid scaring Good Boy further back into the space, so just a prybar and manual tools were used.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Every time one of them would stick a hand in, Good Boy would rub it with his head. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">After several minutes, the hole was big enough to pull Good Boy through. Except now he was scared, and every time the firefighter would try to pull him out, he would brace against the underflooring so that he couldn't be moved.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">"Let me try," said the vet tech. "I deal with stubborn cats every day. I'll scruff him and pull him out."</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">She knelt into the cupboard, stuck her hand in, and scruffed Good Boy. And then started to slowly pull. Slowly ... slowly ... and all of a sudden, she leaned back out of the cupboard and onto the kitchen floor with Good Boy in her arms!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjngdHJRX1DnC9JeR1-SW7QsSbkfTy_6bYuBqA8qz617EmX9NRq0tadxZOszi0FrF4XCOVc57kUDR7zK6jADgUGyugAUdBt2OpNvN7IJ0kiolbsColvPFIEoX0MV52MtPnpR2GL/s1600/DSCN0903.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjngdHJRX1DnC9JeR1-SW7QsSbkfTy_6bYuBqA8qz617EmX9NRq0tadxZOszi0FrF4XCOVc57kUDR7zK6jADgUGyugAUdBt2OpNvN7IJ0kiolbsColvPFIEoX0MV52MtPnpR2GL/s320/DSCN0903.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;">Good Boy was out of the hole! Covered in sheetrock and dirt, but alive! And purring! And making biscuits in the vet tech's arms! She quickly looked him over and then popped him in a carrier and she, her boyfriend, and GB were off to the vet. I told her I'd finish up in the house and then come there.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">The adopter kept saying, "I'm going to get him back, right?" Ummm ... sure. SURE(LY NOT). This woman farted around for almost TWO WEEKS, making no substantive effort to find Good Boy, while the rescue and I scrambled desperately to try and find him. While the rescue volunteers canvassed the neighborhood and printed up flyers, she did nothing. She claimed she didn't have five dollars to have flyers printed up on her own ... How on earth was she planning on paying vet bills? Buying him food? This loving cat had been so traumatized by her family that he lived in the FLOOR rather than come out. She had falsified her application (by putting down that she had three children when in fact she had five (and another on the way), for one thing. I'm not really at liberty to discuss all the details, but trust me, that application stunk like a three-day-old fish.) She had breached the adoption contract, and voided the agreement. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">The contractor repaired the hole in the wall and the hole under sink, all the while saying things like, "Gee, Good Boy will never get back in there now!" Heh. The contractor and I left together, I told him to email me a bill, and I headed for the vet. I stopped on the way and texted the woman who runs the rescue to let her know that we had Good Boy, and she needed to immediately contact the adopter and tell her that since the application had been falsified, the cat would not be returned. I told her to tell the adopter that I would mail the $500 reward to her (as soon as I knew that she had been informed that the cat would not be returned). I figured that if the adopter was planning to make a fuss, accepting the reward money would negate any possible claim she would have.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">I got to the vet's office and they took me to where the vet was examining him. There he was, on the table, purring and kneading and rolling on to his back for belly rubs. He was dehydrated and somewhat thinner and filthy dirty, but otherwise fine! The vet thinks he may have been eating rodents that wandered into the crawlspace (shudder), and he had either found a dripping pipe in the wall or was able to sneak out at night to drink out of a leaking faucet. (Remember, even though I had advised the adopter to leave out food and water in the house just in case, she did not do it.) The vet gave him some some sub-q fluids, and kept him overnight for observation. Tired and dirty but happy, I headed home.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">As soon as I got home, the rescue texted me and let me know that the adopter had been informed. And right after THAT, the ADOPTER texted me. She wanted to come pick up the reward money. NOW.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Jesus Christ.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">I let her know that we could meet someplace (I didn't want her and the skeevy people hanging around her place to come to my house) (Aside: Two days later, someone was STABBED IN THE STREET in front of her house. I'm not even kidding). She said the local WalMart. I said fine. (You don't get much more public of a place than the entrance to WalMart.) She said it had to be RIGHT NOW.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Just like I figured it would when I offered to give her the reward, it had all come down to money. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">She didn't ask about Good Boy or how he was. She wanted to know how fast she could get the money. I advised that I did not have that much cash on hand, but I would write her a check.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">I texted the rescue and let them know what was going down. "Get a release!," they said. "You have to have them sign off on the cat in order to get the reward." I typed something up real quick, made a copy, and messaged my friend Sarah to let her know what was going on. "I'm on my way," she said. The adopter texted me; it would be her husband meeting me, not her. Inside the entrance, by the pharmacy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">I got to WalMart at the same time as Sarah. We walked inside, and there was the husband. Standing there with a cart full of crap he had picked out while waiting. Now keep in mind, this is the same family who claimed they did not have five dollars on Monday to print up some flyers and had no way of getting money until Friday. And there he was, on Wednesday night, with a cartful. They had money, all right. They just weren't about to spend it on Good Boy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">I handed the husband a clipboard with the releases. "Just sign the releases, please, and I'll give you the check," I said. He looked surprised, but signed both copies. I took back the clipboard, kept one release, and gave him the other. Then I pulled the reward check out of my pocket and handed it over. And he went back into the store (never once asking how the cat was), and Sarah and I walked out and headed directly to the nearest bar for a beverage, now that the extortion, er, REWARD money was paid. As we walked out of the store, Sarah pulled her phone out of her t-shirt pocket. "I recorded the whole thing!," she said. "Just in case."</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Spies like us, man. We get the job done. We had a signed release and a recording of the whole thing. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">And the following night, Good Boy went to his new home. His true FOREVER home this time.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">My home.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Sarah took my foster kittens to stay at her house so that I could put Good Boy in the foster room. I plan on working on building up his confidence, and then working with him and Tinks to get him integrated into the family. I think that now that Good Boy is actually INSIDE the house, and soon will SMELL like the house, and Tinks will be able to see that Good Boy is welcome to BE in the house, things will go more smoothly. And if not, we'll just keep working on it. And working on it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br />Because THIS is Good Boy's home now.</span></div>
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rockygracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14457010488015617811noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33288643.post-79501132611039935552019-05-04T16:56:00.000-04:002019-05-04T16:56:36.274-04:00Good Boy Chronicles, in which a contractor and the fire department get involved<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Okay, first off, again: Good Boy is FINE. And also, this is Part 2 of a multi-part story, so if you want to start from the beginning, scroll down to the entry titled "Good Boy: Disappeared" and read that first.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">Ready?</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">So! When I left off, it was apparent that SOMETHING, very possibly Good Boy, was in the floor of his adopter's house, was possibly unable to get out, and had potentially been trapped for ten days at this point.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">OH NO </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">I called the rescue. I told them I needed a contractor (in order to rip up floors or walls if necessary) and someone with a thermal imaging system to meet me at the adopter's house as soon as possible. Within an hour, the rescue had the people and the equipment rounded up, and we made arrangements to meet at the house at 3. The thermal imaging system was being loaned by the one of the rescue's vet tech volunteer's boyfriend, who volunteers for a local fire company. (Most professional fire companies will no longer assist in animal rescues, claiming their liability insurance does not allow it. Volunteer fire companies, however, tend to be more flexible, especially if the offer of a hefty donation is made.) The vet tech was coming along, too, to rush Good Boy to the vet as soon as he was extracted.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Waiting for 3:00 to come, I felt sick. As far as I knew, Good Boy had been without food or water for ten days. A cat can go without food for a long, long time, but water? No way. Kidney damage would begin to occur after just a few days. Even if he was still alive, which would seem to be indicated by the food disappearing, would he be able to be saved? Would his kidneys still be functioning? </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">At 3, I met everybody across the street from the house. I briefly explained the situation, including that while the adopter THOUGHT she was getting the cat back, she was, in fact, absolutely NOT getting the cat back.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">(An aside: Once I knew the cat was most likely trapped in the house, I had to get access to the house in order to rescue the cat. I was afraid that if I told the adopter that she was not getting the animal back, she would deny me access, and all would be lost. So I made up a cover story that once the cat was found, it would have to be taken to the rescue's veterinarian and checked over, and once it was given a clean bill of health, it would be returned to her.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">At this point it was me, the contractor, the vet tech, and the vet tech's firefighter boyfriend with the thermal camera. We went in. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">The firefighter started by aiming the camera at the ceiling of the first floor. He moved slowly through the house, concentrating on the area underneath the sink on the second level. Nothing. We went upstairs to the second floor kitchen, where the adopter showed us a second hole she had found, in the wall behind a microwave stand. The firefighter started imaging underneath the sink. Nothing. Then he moved over to the wall where the second hole was.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">"I've got something!" he said. "There's something alive and moving in there!" </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Could it be?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">And then the moving image disappeared. The firefighter did some more scanning and discovered that there was an area several feet long and a few inches tall, in between the flooring and the subflooring of the kitchen. Wall partitioning meant that whatever was in there could move for those several feet, but no further.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">We all stepped back to discuss which hole we were going to enlarge first, to gain more access to the area. As we talked, all of a sudden the contractor said, "I hear something." "I hear it too," said the firefighter. "It sounded like a meow!"</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">I felt like I was going to faint. I rushed over to the hole in the wall, put my head next to the hole, and starting softly calling. "Good Boy! Good Boy! Hey, buddy, remember me?" The firefighter put the camera above and behind me, to see if he could pick up an image.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">And then we all heard it. Meowing. Again. and again. Every time I called to him we would hear it. Meowing!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">To Be Continued ...</span></div>
rockygracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14457010488015617811noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33288643.post-24159887590790898822019-05-03T18:17:00.001-04:002019-05-03T18:17:46.836-04:00Good Boy Chronicles: Disappeared<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">First off, I want to reassure everyone: Good Boy is fine. REPEAT: GOOD BOY IS FINE. But we've had a pretty harrowing couple of weeks, here. I am going to break this into several posts over the next couple of days, because it's a loooooong story, so if you want to read it all at once, best wait until Monday or so. But now, we'll get started, and remember: Good Boy is fine.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #222222; display: inline !important; float: none; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">Let's see, where were we? Good Boy had been adopted to a suitable family and was off to start his new life.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />Except.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Turns out a clerical error was made by one of the rescue volunteers. The application that was "approved" for Good Boy was actually supposed to be "denied", for several reasons. I don't review applications, so I never saw it. The error wasn't uncovered until, 9 days after he was adopted, a post about Good Boy appeared on the local "Lost and Found Pets" facebook page.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Good Boy was missing.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">As soon as I found out, I contacted the adopter, whom I had not spoken with or met before. She said that when they first took Good Boy home, he spent most of his time hiding in quiet places, which is to be expected seeing as he is a timid cat and this family had FIVE CHILDREN UNDER THE AGE OF TEN (one of the many, many reasons the box that was checked was SUPPOSED to be the "denied" box, not the "approved" box. Good Boy was not supposed to go to a family with young children due to his fear of loud noises and sudden movements.) After four days in the home, he disappeared. They searched the house for five days before putting an ad in the lost and found. Meaning that as of April 25, when the ad was posted, he had been adopted for nine days, and no one had seen the cat for the last five days. He could be anywhere by now.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I asked her if anyone had actually SEEN Good Boy leave the house. No, she said, but the kids were in and out constantly and so were several other people, so he could have gotten out. Had he been hovering near a door, I asked. No, she said, but they had "torn the house apart" and could not find him.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">oh shit oh shit oh shit.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I felt terrible. I had failed Good Boy. I had trusted the rescue to find him a good home, and due to a snafu, he went to a BAD home. I had LIED to him. I had visited him at the center, week after week, and told him not to worry, the rescue would find him a good home. And they DIDN'T. Poor Good Boy! I had to save him!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I went over to the neighborhood and started talking to the neighbors. I advised the adopter to have some one-page "missing" flyers made up, and said that she could get a bunch of copies printed up for five bucks at Staples. The following day, I took over feeding stations, food and water, and game cams and set them up in various backyards throughout the neighborhood. The woman who runs the rescue was also out looking for him. I gave the owner a 30 lb. bag of cat food and told her to monitor the stations daily, call me if food was going missing from the bowls, and refill the bowls as necessary. I told her to call me if she ran out of cat food and I would bring her more. (The family was, how do I put this? Very low income.) I told her to set up some food and water bowls INSIDE the house as well, in secluded areas, just in case he was still inside, and to monitor those levels as well. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">God DAMN it.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> The following day, Monday, I had to work, but I had some new ideas on where to look in the neighborhood for Good Boy, so I texted the adopter. I shared my ideas, and asked if she had had the flyers made up yet. No, she said, she didn't have five dollars to spend, and wouldn't have the money until Friday.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">MotherF*CKER.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I called the rescue and asked them to get some flyers made up. I told them to put MY phone number, and the RESCUE's phone number on the flyer, but NOT the adopter's phone number. By this time the application had been pulled from records and the grievous error had been discovered. There was NO WAY this family was getting this cat back, especially since to date, the only people putting any effort at all into recovering Good Boy were rescue volunteers. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">By Monday night the flyers had been prepared and were off to the printer to be ready on Tuesday. I put a new ad in the lost and found, now offering a $500 reward for his safe return, and excluding the adopter's contact info. Possible sightings started trickling in, but none that closely enough matched Good Boy's appearance to warrant further investigation. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">On Wednesday morning, at which point Good Boy had been missing for ten days, the adopter contacted me. She said that when she had gone to the upstairs kitchen the previous evening (the house was a former two-family loosely converted to a one-family, and still had a kitchen on each level), she opened up the cupboards under the sink and smelled cat pee. She looked under the sink and found a hole next to the drain pipe. She angled a bowl of food into the hole (which only dropped a few inches before it hit the subfloor system) and when she checked it Wednesday morning, the food was gone.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Oh. My. God.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">He was in the floor. Good Boy was in the FLOOR! </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">To be continued ...</span></span></div>
rockygracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14457010488015617811noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33288643.post-319818281838265562019-04-19T21:04:00.001-04:002019-04-19T21:04:25.031-04:00And people wonder why I'm crankySo, I had to take my car to the dealership the other day for a problem that was covered by a recall. As usual, I dropped my car off in the morning and took the dealership shuttle service to work. As the guy dropped me off, he asked me if I wanted to be picked back up at the same spot in the afternoon.<br />
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"Yes, right here," I said.<br />
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Along in the afternoon, I called the dealership to make sure my car would be ready, and to make sure the shuttle service would pick me up at the designated time and place. Everything was all set. At quitting time, I went down to the pickup spot. A little background: I work at what is called the "governmental plaza", with several municipal buildings in the same block on both sides of the street. There is on-street back-in slanted parking (don't get me started), and there are always workers getting picked up/dropped off in front of the buildings in areas designated as "no parking". I had asked to be picked up right in front of one of the buildings, where no parking is allowed and cars can pull in from the street to pick up or drop off.<br />
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So there I was, and ... no shuttle van. And it was FREEZING out. I waited five minutes, then ten, then called the dealership. And got voicemail. Helpful!<br />
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I waited five more minutes, and called again. "Where's the driver?" I asked. "He was supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago."<br />
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"The driver called," the dealership guy said. "He said he's there at your building."<br />
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"WHERE?" I said. "I don't see the van, and there's nobody in the pickup/dropoff area."<br />
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"Oh, the van wasn't available, so he just took a car over."<br />
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"WHAT CAR?" I said. Now I was getting ticked. "There's thirty cars out here, and none of them are at the pickup spot!"<br />
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"It's a black Hyundai," the dealership guy said. "The same guy that dropped you off this morning is driving. He says he parked in one of the back-in spots so he wouldn't get towed."<br />
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"Okay, wait a minute," I said. "(a), If I had known I was gonna have to pick the driver out of a lineup this afternoon, I would have taken a closer look at him this morning, and (b), what am I supposed to do, go car to car knocking on windows to see which one is the dealership's? People get KILLED that way. TELL. THE. DRIVER. TO. GET. OUT. OF. THE. CAR. AND. WAVE."<br />
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"Well," the dealership guy said. "The driver says he's in the black Hyundai next to a brown Tacoma pickup."<br />
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JESUS FREAKING CHRIST I was pissed at this point. I scanned the parked cars for a black Hyundai next to a brown Tacoma, found it, and stormed over to the designated car, which was about fifty feet away from where the guy was supposed to be and where I had been standing, and looked in, and there was the driver, listening to the radio and staring idly into space. He had never looked ONCE at the pickup area to see if I was waiting there (I was).<br />
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Because I needed to get my damn car, I kept my mouth shut and accepted the ride back to the dealership. But THIS IS WHY I'M CRANKY, PEOPLE. Stuff like THIS. SHEESH. <br />
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<br />rockygracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14457010488015617811noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33288643.post-28150970011013389792019-04-13T19:45:00.001-04:002019-04-13T19:45:55.080-04:00Good Boy Chronicles, Next PartI stopped in at the rescue this afternoon to pick up some vaccines for my fosters and visit with Good Boy, only to find out that Good Boy was being adopted tonight!<br />
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The rescue screens potential adopters carefully, so I have no doubt he will have a good home. It's just so amazing that this cat, who was once feral and homeless, will now have a happy, loved life. Instead of taking refuge in sheds and garages, he will have a home!<br />
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I gave him some loving and told him good-bye and went out the door. And I received confirmation a few minutes ago that he is now home with his new family.<br />
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Oh, stop it. I'm not crying; YOU'RE crying. :) <br />
rockygracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14457010488015617811noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33288643.post-89087605609124086262019-04-03T07:02:00.002-04:002019-04-03T07:02:37.252-04:00TenFirst off, it was ten years ago today that the American Civic Association mass-murder happened here in my little town; it's the mass shooting that seemingly <a href="https://www.pressconnects.com/story/news/local/2019/03/27/binghamton-mass-shooting-aca-american-civic-association-forgotten-murders/3222090002/" target="_blank">everybody forgot about. </a><br />
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and it was also ten years ago today that I quit smoking. <br />
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Number of cigarettes I would have smoked between April 3, 2009 and today, had I not stopped smoking on that date: 109,200. (!)<br />
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Amount of money saved: $19,527.50. (approximately. I'm terrible at math.) (Just to clarify: I smoked cheap cigs
I bought on line. Had I been buying name-brand smokes at the 7-11, that
number would have easily been double. And using <i>today</i>'s cost-per-pack,
you could triple that amount). I used a figure of $3.56 a pack,
since that's what my cigs cost at the time I quit.<br />
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When I quit, ten years ago, I surprised myself at the time. I figured I wasn't "ready". I supposed it would be my first attempt, out of many. But I figured, what the heck, and I gave it a shot. And to my surprise, it worked!<br />
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I always said that when I got my mortgage paid off, if I felt like picking up the habit again, I would, seeing as how my primary reason for quitting was financial. But that was based on a couple of, as it turns out, false assumptions: (1) that I would be in my 70s by the time my mortgage was paid off, and (2) that I would have spent the non-smoking years pining away for a smoke.<br />
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As it turns out, both of those assumptions were incorrect. My mortgage will be paid off within the next few months (which I accomplished all by myself, without the help of my sister's estate - I've simply spent the past 10 years making a real effort paying down the mortgage), and I really, really have no desire to smoke again.<br />
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So here I am: Ten years a non-smoker, and glad to be one. :) <br />
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<br />rockygracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14457010488015617811noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33288643.post-57959167974591028472019-03-26T18:26:00.000-04:002019-03-26T18:26:00.351-04:00Thank you, Ginny!When the UPS guy pulled up tonight I thought it was going to be just another boring Chewy order (well, they're boring except when they come with dead mice inside TRUE STORY), but instead it was gifts!<br />
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I love Tinks' expression in that photo. He's all, "don't laugh ... don't laugh ..."<br />
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and look at the cute little buttons!:</div>
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Thank you, Ginny (James P.) for the day-brightener!<br />
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<br />rockygracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14457010488015617811noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33288643.post-37799866695480153752019-03-24T16:02:00.000-04:002019-03-24T16:02:08.963-04:00Sunday StrollWell, the sun was SUPPOSED to come out today, but it declined.<br />
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But I decided to go out walking anyway. But first I had to drop some traps off; it seems to be some unwritten rule lately that I can't go anyplace without taking a car full of traps with me.<br />
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And then I had to stop and get an oil change, because every once in a while I have to adult whether I like it or not. THEN it was time to walk.<br />
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The skunk cabbage is up! Surely Turtle Day can't be too far behind. </div>
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Beavers have been busy:</div>
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A deer bone tableau:</div>
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Hmmm ... an unlocked outbuilding at a deserted summer camp ... Did I go in? NO WAY. I've seen WAY too many scary movies to fall for THAT trap:</div>
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Bug heiroglyphics:</div>
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See that thing up on the tree? That white blob?:</div>
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I got out the binocs, then the zoom lens, to get a better look:</div>
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Anybody know what kind of fungus that is?</div>
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Finally, it's not a walk around here without spotting a deer or two:</div>
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Pretty good camouflage.</div>
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rockygracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14457010488015617811noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33288643.post-31609301438431948582019-03-16T17:22:00.000-04:002019-03-16T17:22:37.993-04:00Postcards from Foster CampFirst off, I stepped outside the other day and saw that the daylilies were popping out of the ground, so here comes Spring! THANK GOD.<br />
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The Spring session of Foster Camp brought a mamacat and two four-week-old kittens. A small bunch, but adorable.<br />
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"'Scuse me, can I borrow some toona?":</div>
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"WHAT?! She makes a good pillow!": </div>
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"KIDS these days.": </div>
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What else? I am still trying to get my sister's affairs in order (did you know you have to file a 1040 AFTER YOU DIE?! Is true.), trapping for TNR continues apace (I'm trapping tomorrow, St. Patrick's Day - Erin Go Trap haha), and work is going well. What's up with you?rockygracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14457010488015617811noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33288643.post-20339284003374097002019-03-11T20:15:00.000-04:002019-03-11T20:16:51.192-04:00Good Boy UpdateGood Boy is doing well at the center! He has been moved into one of the community rooms, so he's no longer in a cage by himself. He is slowwwwwwwly interacting with other cats and spends a lot of time in one of the cat condos, but he is more than happy to come out for some loving from the volunteers.<br />
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And speaking of loving, Good Boy's got a girlfriennnnnddddd ...<br />
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I'm calling this "The Contessa and the Longshoreman" haha. He's really working that "drunk-after-a-bar-fight" look, and when you pair that with his squished-in Himalayan nose, well ... I'm just glad he's found someone to love him. :)<br />
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(No, I don't think they are seriously bonded, it's just a case of Good Boy learning to interact with other cats and they with him, but if they are bonded, they will certainly be placed together.)<br />
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He's been vet checked and is in great shape considering he's been homeless for the last few years. He is extremely welcoming of human attention. The rescue will continue working with him, and if at any point he starts to overly stress, the barn home is still an option, although at this point it looks like he'll be able to stay at the rescue until he finds his family.<br />
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I'll keep posting updates. The saga of Good Boy continues ...rockygracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14457010488015617811noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33288643.post-27603003862093498732019-03-09T17:33:00.000-05:002019-03-09T17:33:09.416-05:00Winter Walk<br />
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rockygracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14457010488015617811noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33288643.post-87727682769345688982019-03-03T10:30:00.000-05:002019-03-03T10:30:47.147-05:00So, you know, no pressure or anythingYesterday was the big day - the day of my civil service exam!<br />
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When I was hired for my current position several months ago, it was a "provisional" hire - No one who had already passed the appropriate test had applied for the job, so I was hired on the condition that I pass the civil service exam within six months of hire. <br />
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Well, pass, AND score in the top three among all people who took the test. Seems to me a little DICEY, if you're the employer, to want to spend months training someone who may or may not be able to keep the position, but hey! That's their problem, not mine. :)<br />
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So me and about sixty other people (they were testing for several different positions) schlepped to a local high school yesterday morning for the big test. I'm fairly certain I did well, but did I score in the top three? <br />
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Only time will tell!<br />
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I was more concerned with the fact that the high school, which is attended by several hundred students, was WIDE OPEN on a Saturday. I walked right in the front door, followed the signs halfway through the high school to the cafeteria testing site, visited the restroom, took a peek into the auditorium where a play rehearsal was underway on my way out, etc., etc., with nary a security person in sight. Seemed a little ... odd, in this day and age, but go figure.<br />
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Now the wait for the test results. Somebody cue the Jeopardy music!rockygracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14457010488015617811noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33288643.post-35641904638059706572019-02-23T17:38:00.001-05:002019-02-23T17:38:50.739-05:00Good Boy updateSome of you may remember <a href="https://rockygrace.blogspot.com/2018/02/to-catch-cat.html" target="_blank">Good Boy</a>, the neighborhood feral I TNR'd last year.<br />
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Good Boy kept coming around, off and on, and then, around Christmas time, he started coming around all the time. He'd hang out in my backyard shed during the day and in the my garage at night, and he'd meow loudly and scratch at the kitchen door when he wanted me to bring him some food. (Typical male, ha.) I worried about him being out in the cold and snow.<br />
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But my permacat Tinks was NOT having it. It was okay when Good Boy only came around once in a while, but when it became every day, Tinks became aggressive toward him, and I was afraid somebody was going to get hurt. <br />
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A farmer I TNR for offered to give Good Boy a farm home. And that was the plan, until ... Good Boy started rubbing against my legs when I took his food out. And rolling on the floor, showing me his tummy. And PURRING.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwgVbD1bgiCyvwJXaF813DExGEGJdKlygyyUzVpolEk-NdWRZmauJ3wA-27V3L-v7Y1SRXk4_D4Zog' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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I called the rescue I volunteer for. Would they be willing to work with Good Boy?<br />
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The answer was yes!<br />
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So a couple of weeks ago, when Good Boy meowed for his breakfast, I went out in the garage, scooped him up, popped him in a crate, and took him to the adoption center.<br />
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Why yes, yes I AM a Judas.<br />
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I'm sorry, Good Boy! It's for the best!<br />
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The center volunteers are patiently working with Good Boy. I stop by often, as do my friends, to give him some loving.<br />
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He is fussed over and has a warm, safe place to sleep with no Tinks to attack him. He even entertains guests from time to time at his new place:<br />
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Most importantly, he'll finally have a family to love him, once the perfect people come along. No more living in sheds and garages and having other cats beat up on him. He'll finally be able to have a home. <br />
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Good Boy!<br />
<br />rockygracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14457010488015617811noreply@blogger.com5