Feral Follies

It’s safe to say I live in a cat house though which of us three women here is the quintessential “crazy cat lady” it’s difficult to pinpoint. We are all over 40. We are all essentially homebodies. We all talk to our cats as if they were toddlers. I’ve two of my own, indoor only. They’ve been with me for 8 and 11 years respectively and I would move mountains for them. Each of my three housemates has one indoor-outdoor as their own. And then we have the ferals. Mama, Bobby, TJ, Mango. Mama is the mother of three of our cats – 2 tuxes and a calico. The others, 2 are truly feral and one we discovered was abandoned because when we took her to get her spayed, the vet discovered she already had an unregistered microchip from the next county down.

Bobby in “his” chair.

Well, the orange ferals, Mango and Bobby, have decided they are moving in. Mango was first when he wandered in for breakfast one morning because he wanted the “good food” and just never left. He quickly learned to love the lap and now thinks he’s looking of the castle. Bobby, a real tomcat until he got snipped, he’s slowly getting better with people. He loves the head rubs but don’t dare touch him anywhere past the shoulders. He has a biting habit he needs to break.

TJ the Scaredy Cat.

TJ, the abandoned female, she’s a lover when she wants to be but only outside and only if you’re sitting down with your hair back. She’s afraid of long hair for some reason so I always have to have mine up in a bun. She could be sweet if she wasn’t so paranoid.

La menagerie, minus a few.

9 cats. 1 house. And truth be told, every hairball, every “accident,” every item knocked out a shelf or table or counter, it’s all worth it for those cuddles. Hopefully though we are not on our way to becoming another Hemingway house.

Daily Prompt – Money for Nothing?

In response to: Daily Prompt – Money for Nothing

Dream jobs… we all want one. For some, that dream job just means sitting back and collecting on a winning Powerball ticket.  The most joy, I think, comes from the satisfaction of doing work that you love that also pays the bills.  My dream job is not going to be found in any newspaper or on Monster.  It will have to be crafted with hard work and a hefty sum of funds to start – where they would come from is unknown but… prayer does bring miracles, especially when it’s for a good cause.

This is something I’ve been half-heartedly plotting for years – half-heartedly due to not knowing where or how to acquire the funds to start and run it all.  I started by listing three of my main interests that I would love to make my life’s work: animal rescue, social work and a bed and breakfast.  In combining these things, I came up with an idea: An unwanted horse rescue which would be run on a ranch. As part of a ranch, there would be housing. That housing could be used as a battered women’s shelter.  The name: Renewal Ranch.  The organization’s “icon” would be a simple sunrise, signifying each day bringing new light. Something like…

…Without the green screen of course 🙂

Horses are taken in to be cared for. Women are taken in to be cared for. In return for their shelter, the women would get to connect with nature and the horses by helping to care for them.  Both the women and the horses would be safe, sheltered, fed and helped to recover from abuse, neglect and un-want. The joy to me would be in helping everyone involved, give the women a purpose and the horses a second chance. The positive energy would come full circle as the women rehabilitate the horses and the horses help rehabilitate the women. I’m giving myself 9 years to find a way to acquire the funds for this project because I would like to “retire” from the corporate world at 50 and spend the last half of my life (yes, I plan on being around until at least 100!) doing good for some of those most in need.  My dream job – a labour of love.