Trap Neuter Release (TNR)

If you watch My Cat From Hell, you've probably seen Jackson Galaxy rave about the local programs that will trap feral cats, neuter them, and then release them.  It's a great idea, and more communities should participate to help control the feral cat population.

Because if a cat is truly feral, it has little chance of ever becoming someone's pet.  Let me say that again - these cats cannot be socialized and adopted out to loving families.  Instead, they end up in a shelter like The Marshmallow Foundation, and after giving it our best try, are euthanized.  Before you express your shock and horror that we are not a "no-kill" shelter, but instead a "low-kill" shelter, let me give you some facts.

There is no sponsored TNR program in the Detroit Lakes area.  There are no Veterinary practices willing to donate their time, and no organization that has set up the funds to make a TNR program viable.  And yet, citizens, thinking that they are acting in the best interest of the cat, will trap them and bring them to us with a self-satisfied look on their face that says, "I did my part".  Well sorry buddy, but all you did was make it our problem now.

So if you spot a feral cat in your neighborhood, what should you do?  Well, that depends.  Can you afford to have that animal neutered and brought up to date on their shots?  Yes?  Whoo hoo!  Then do it - trap them, neuter them, and release them, and bang, you've got your own TNR program.  If you can't afford to do it yourself, please don't think that your local shelter can either; we're busting at the seams already with cats we can't find homes for.

If you want middle ground, set up a recurring monthly donation to the shelter of your choice.  It doesn't have to be much, but it sure will help.

 

Lifetime Commitment

Before you adopt that adorable, fuzzy, little ball of energy from the shelter, you need to ask yourself one question first.

Are you willing to take care of this living creature for the rest of their life?

If not, please, please, don't adopt.  Get a fish.  Or better yet, buy a plant.  Preferable an artificial one.

Volunteering at The Marshmallow Foundation, I get to witness first hand so many wonderful success stories of our animals going to loving homes.  And I also experience the heartbreak of an owner surrender.

Yes, there are those elderly folks that get moved into nursing homes and their family is unwilling to take care of Fido or Fluffy.  I'm not talking about those; I'm talking about the ones that bring an animal back they adopted 24, 48, or 72 hours before from us.  In the last couple of months, here's what I've experienced:

• I'm bringing this cat back after having her less than 24 hours because she wanted to sleep with me and I couldn't sleep all night.  She was too affectionate.  And I want my money back.


• This cat fights with my other cat too much.  Did I separate them for up to two weeks to ensure a successful acclimation?  No, why would I?  Yes, I know you told me to.  Come get her.  I live two hours away and I'm too lazy to bring her back myself.


• This dog that you just spayed that I adopted yesterday has a break in her stitches.  You didn't tell me that I'd have to pay for medical care.  You can have her back, but when you fix her all up and can guarantee that she's healthy and won't ever have an issue again, I'd like to re-adopt her.  Oh, and I want my money back.


• I found this dog, and really like her and want to keep her, but she has some sort of skin issue, so you can have her.  (It was mange, and very cheap to treat).

A kitten can live more than 20 years.  And a dog more than 15.  Are you prepared to spend thousands of dollars for an unexpected injury or illness?  Can you afford the healthy food that will extend the animal's life?  Are you ready for old age, when incontinence can become an issue?  And finally, will you be prepared to hold that animal in your arms as they take their last breath on this earth?  If you answer no to any of these questions, please don't adopt.  My fellow volunteers and shelter workers thank you.

Getting Your Facts From Facebook Memes

I think I finally get it.  The otherwise lovely, sane, reasonable people who rabidly follow Trump get their facts straight from Facebook.  It's really the only explanation.  I see the memes - the ones that claim that President Obama is a Muslim, was born in Kenya, compared to a monkey.  Or the "news" stories on sites that claim to be reporting real news, but instead are slanted one way or the other.

When I posted something from FactCheck.org once (a legimate, non-biased site), my FB friend sent me an article claiming something different.  Rather than just accepting it, I checked it out.  Turns out the site was a DATING SITE!

So this is where you're getting your news from?  I get it; if you have certain beliefs, you're not going to alter those beliefs.  I'm not going to try and change your mind, even when I disagree with you.  But for Pete's sake, do some research on the candidates, one of which will be the leader of the free world.

Trump finally admitted today that Obama was born in the USA.  No apology for dragging the entire nation through the mud with him for the last 5 years; instead he tried to take credit for finishing what Hillary Clinton started.  If he says that often enough, people believe it.  The fact is that Clinton never said such a thing.  Ever.

So go ahead and believe in conservative principles.  But don't try and explain away the fact that you support this clown.

Religion in a Job Interview

I'm a bit of a political junkie these days, watching both the Republican and Democratic races intently.  My own values, which center around treating all humans well and preserving the earth for future generations, make me a liberal in most circles.  But I want to understand both sides of the issues, and here's something I just don't get.

What does religion have to do with running the country?  Why are most of the speeches laced with "In Jesus' name", or "God Bless"?  The Republican VP nominee starts every speech by saying that he's a Christian, a conservative, and a Republican, in that order.  How exactly does that qualify you for the job, and don't the Republicans (and some Democrats) realize that this language alienates half of their constituency?

Imagine if the presidential race was instead an interview for an IT company and the applicant stated on his resume that he's a Christian, conservative, and Republican, in that order.  That's nice to know, but what exactly are your qualifications for the job?

And now imagine if the interview panel (the American people) was composed of Jews, Muslims, Hindus, Christians, and Wiccans?  What's your guess on whether the applicant lands the job?

 

Then They Came for Me

Today I went to the German labor camp Sachsenhausen, less than an hour outside of Berlin.  Many times moved, at times disgusted, always sad, there were a couple of things today that struck a nerve.

Before entering the gates, our guide talked about the liberation, when the Red Army rolled in.  Countries hurried to come collect their countrymen; sending buses and trains to bring their people home.  After all, this camp was full of everyone from Norwegians, to French resistance fighters, to Dutch POWs.  Probably the biggest population at the time were Soviet prisoners of war.  Stalin didn't rush to get his men; he considered them cowardly allowing themselves to be taken prisoner instead of dying bravely for the cause.  Does that remind of you of anyone?  Trump has said almost the same thing about John McCain, who was captured during the Vietnam war and held prisoner.

When we reached the "special prisoners" prison, we learned that some famous men had been housed there, including Georg Elser, the man who tried in vain to assassinate Hitler with a bomb.  People leave gifts and flowers in the outline of his barack to this day.  Another famous prisoner there is someone you've probably never heard of, but is remembered for something he once said.

First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Socialist.

Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Trade Unionist.

Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.

Martin Niemoller was a prominent Protestant pastor who was jailed the last 7 years of WWII because he spoke out against Hitler and the Nazi rule.  Again, his saying reminded me of the dangerous situation in our country today, where some people are okay with what Donald Trump says because they're not Mexican, Muslim, or a woman.  He's not targeting them.  Yet.

 

Things My Mother Taught Me (Or I Wish She Did)

1. A little cream cheese makes mashed potatoes creamy and even more delicious


2. If your sunny side up eggs are burning around the edges but slimy around the yolk, add a few drops of water to the pan and stick a cover on it to steam.


3. There's an easier way to put on a duvet cover.


4. The best scrambled eggs don't start in a hot fry pan.  Start in a cold sauce pan with a good dash of pepper.  Put on medium heat whisking constantly until the curds start to form.  Take it off the heat for a few seconds, still stirring.  Put it back on the heat, take it off, and repeat until you start to hear a sizzle.  Immediately remove from heat, add salt and crumbled goat cheese (optional).  Garnish with fresh chives.  The sizzle part is important; eggs continue to cook after they're removed from the heat, and overcooked eggs are awful.  I give Gordon Ramsay credit for this one!


5. Unless you have very thin fine hair, there is no reason to wash your hair every day.  It strips the natural oil from your scalp.  My hair always looks better the day after I washed it.  I aim for twice a week max unless I'm desperate to wash the campfire smoke out of my hair.


6. Stay interested in everything!  When I see people my age that refuse to text, Facebook, or do anything remotely technology related, they appear old before their time.


7. You're never too old to learn something new.  I recently taught myself to sew, and have completed a quilted table runner and a baby quilt.


8. Try it even if you think you don't like it.  Tastes change.  What you hated as a child/teenager/20 year old might be your favorite now.  I thought I hated blue cheese as a kid (never actually tried it; the thought of moldy cheese was just too much).  As a 50 something, I was served a salad in a dark room and exclaimed with delight to my neighbor, "what is this?"  You guessed it - blue cheese dressing.


9. Instead of wasting time whining about something being broken, learn to fix it yourself.  YouTube is great for quick fixes for everything from a broken coffee machine to rusty door hinges.  I get tired of being on hold for help with computer issues, so I've gotten pretty good at troubleshooting myself.


10. The past isn't real, and neither is the future.  So live in the present moment, be grateful for what you have, and love without expectations.

Gratitude Isn't Always Easy

I'm big on gratitude; I think that taking a little time every day or several times a day to be thankful does a lot of things, including relaxing your body, making you more present, and keeping you in a more positive state of mind.

Some days it's hard to feel grateful; yesterday was one of those days.  Delilah, my one year old cat, had to be put to sleep.  Her kidneys failed her, and although we spent a week on intensive treatment, we couldn't help her.

Delilah spent almost a year at the animal shelter in a cage, let out only once a day for a few minutes.  I had adopted her sister Maggie, and her other siblings had been adopted many months before.  When I volunteered there and let her out, she would cling to me with all her might and rub her face frantically on my cheek.  I coined the term "aggressively affectionate" for her, since I'd walk out with marks on my shoulders from her claws digging in to me.  But I couldn't adopt her because I had a terminally ill kitten (Meep) at home.

When Meep died in March, I brought Delilah home.  She fit right in with the rest of the kittens, and after a couple of weeks didn't cling to desperately to me.  Last week her health declined rapidly, and after 2 days hospitalized, a week of me giving her subcutaneous fluids and meds, and praying, she didn't get any better, but instead got worse.  So I had to make the decision to end her suffering.

I had also injured my back Saturday, so I was in physical pain as well as emotional pain.  So I had to think hard about what to grateful for.  Saturday I received a card at the shelter that had sat on someone's desk since March.  A lady in Minneapolis had read this blog about Meep's death and wanted to express her sadness.  I was grateful.  Last week a friend in Minneapolis read my frantic Facebook posts about Delilah and sent me a check for $100 (which will be donated to The Marshmallow Foundation.  Their antique washing machine has finally quit working, and there's a used washing machine on Craigslist that we're trying to buy, for, you guessed it - $100.

Maggie, Leo, and Fancy are all healthy and happy.  I am grateful.  And I am grateful for Delilah, who taught me that loves sometimes means saying goodbye.