Horsey teen daughter works at a small, local sawmill. It would seem that this mill not only functions as a place to purchase quality cedar products, but as a place to dump your unwanted cats. The mill is crawling with cats at any given time, which is good since there is a serious mouse population. But cats, moving equipment and rolling machinery do not mix well and the vast majority of dumped cats live a very short life at the mill.
Teen wakes me at the end of her last shift, which was about 4:20 in the morning. "Mom, get up, we have to rescue a cat."
It should be understood that I am not a cat person. I don't like cats and am wildly allergic. I do not go near cats let alone rescue them. So off we go to the mill with a milk crate with a slab of cardboard fixed to the open top with two pipe cleaners (all purpose attachment devices). I have made my involvement perfectly clear; I am sitting in the truck. Period. Not going near stupid cat. Stupid teen can catch stupid cat. I should be in bed and was stupid to get out!
We park and teen dashes towards the mill and all the lit up moving equipment while other mill workers wonder what's going on. Because of the dark and the lights it's hard to tell what she's doing and it looks like she is having some sort of mental breakdown as she dashes all over the place, bent over at the waist, in a senseless pattern. What no one can see is the cat is running for its life with teen in hot pursuit. I am rooting for the cat, run kitty, run! Damn, she's got it and brings it, hissing, spitting and clawing to the truck where I hold the cardboard flap open while she inserts cat into crate.
Have you ever tried to stuff a mad cat into a crate at 5 in the morning? Injuries were acquired. Not to the cat.
Who knew that a starved, half grown cat could rip a slab of cardboard off a milk crate? I am leaning on the crate and cat is yowling menacingly from within. What is that horrible smell? "Oh, it's the cat. He's not neutered and he sprays on things, mostly himself. BUt there is something wrong with his ears too and they stink and he's a little sick so he's not cleaning himself normally." Great. A sick, un-neutered, stinky, dirty cat. Just what I want at home.
At home we uncrate the angry puss and...good lord! Horsey teen, you've brought home a cat with rabies! The pathetic creature is foaming at the mouth, literally, drool and goop hanging down in great St. Bernard type swoops. He is hunched, his breath sounds like blowing bubbles into a milkshake. His eyes are crusted and he staggers a little when he moves. I've never seen a rabid animal but am pretty sure this one is and we're all doomed now! Horsey teen gives him a scratch on the ear. He ignores her, turns his hunched back and scuttles under the tack shed.
"Mom, can we bring him in the house?"
"When #ell freezes over! I have to go make appointments for us all to have rabies shots."
Not being a cat person, I did not know that giving a pill to a resistant cat makes riding bucking bulls look like a walk in the park? After more injuries to self and damage to property, cat ran away UN-medicated, to wheeze what I was sure would be its last breaths under the tack shed. Perfect. Die under the tack shed. Now we'll be hiring and excavator to hoist the tack shed in the air to yank out the stinking cat carcass. This just keeps getting better.
Cat will not eat. Gave it milk and tuna. It will not touch either. Pet store lady told me a cat that cannot smell properly will not eat. I do not know if this is true. It won't eat the offered fish, but chews on hay. Rabies. She said to clear the congestion we had to confine the cat and steam it. Steam it? As in iron out the wrinkles? How the heck do you steam an angry, mostly wild, rabid cat?
Oh...almost forgot the point of this post. Is anyone looking for a lovely family pet? Call me. I've got one I'm anxious to get rid of. Just so we're clear I'm talking about the teen, the cat can stay huddled under the tack shed for all I care.
Teen wakes me at the end of her last shift, which was about 4:20 in the morning. "Mom, get up, we have to rescue a cat."
It should be understood that I am not a cat person. I don't like cats and am wildly allergic. I do not go near cats let alone rescue them. So off we go to the mill with a milk crate with a slab of cardboard fixed to the open top with two pipe cleaners (all purpose attachment devices). I have made my involvement perfectly clear; I am sitting in the truck. Period. Not going near stupid cat. Stupid teen can catch stupid cat. I should be in bed and was stupid to get out!
We park and teen dashes towards the mill and all the lit up moving equipment while other mill workers wonder what's going on. Because of the dark and the lights it's hard to tell what she's doing and it looks like she is having some sort of mental breakdown as she dashes all over the place, bent over at the waist, in a senseless pattern. What no one can see is the cat is running for its life with teen in hot pursuit. I am rooting for the cat, run kitty, run! Damn, she's got it and brings it, hissing, spitting and clawing to the truck where I hold the cardboard flap open while she inserts cat into crate.
Have you ever tried to stuff a mad cat into a crate at 5 in the morning? Injuries were acquired. Not to the cat.
Who knew that a starved, half grown cat could rip a slab of cardboard off a milk crate? I am leaning on the crate and cat is yowling menacingly from within. What is that horrible smell? "Oh, it's the cat. He's not neutered and he sprays on things, mostly himself. BUt there is something wrong with his ears too and they stink and he's a little sick so he's not cleaning himself normally." Great. A sick, un-neutered, stinky, dirty cat. Just what I want at home.
At home we uncrate the angry puss and...good lord! Horsey teen, you've brought home a cat with rabies! The pathetic creature is foaming at the mouth, literally, drool and goop hanging down in great St. Bernard type swoops. He is hunched, his breath sounds like blowing bubbles into a milkshake. His eyes are crusted and he staggers a little when he moves. I've never seen a rabid animal but am pretty sure this one is and we're all doomed now! Horsey teen gives him a scratch on the ear. He ignores her, turns his hunched back and scuttles under the tack shed.
"Mom, can we bring him in the house?"
"When #ell freezes over! I have to go make appointments for us all to have rabies shots."
Not being a cat person, I did not know that giving a pill to a resistant cat makes riding bucking bulls look like a walk in the park? After more injuries to self and damage to property, cat ran away UN-medicated, to wheeze what I was sure would be its last breaths under the tack shed. Perfect. Die under the tack shed. Now we'll be hiring and excavator to hoist the tack shed in the air to yank out the stinking cat carcass. This just keeps getting better.
Cat will not eat. Gave it milk and tuna. It will not touch either. Pet store lady told me a cat that cannot smell properly will not eat. I do not know if this is true. It won't eat the offered fish, but chews on hay. Rabies. She said to clear the congestion we had to confine the cat and steam it. Steam it? As in iron out the wrinkles? How the heck do you steam an angry, mostly wild, rabid cat?
Oh...almost forgot the point of this post. Is anyone looking for a lovely family pet? Call me. I've got one I'm anxious to get rid of. Just so we're clear I'm talking about the teen, the cat can stay huddled under the tack shed for all I care.
). Beautiful days, CynthiaM.
Looking forward to the next edition of Tales from Uno’s World. 
