on and ADORE animals --hate humans
I
have first hand acquaintance with the "Blondii Syndrome." Blondi
was Hitler's beloved German shepherd bitch who lay her last litter in the
bunker. He so loved her that A) for that last year he threw her in the
hole with himself and his Gang, and b.) he had the whole group cyanided
when he had to leave this plane, not trusting any pal to raise the pooch
without Daddy along. (!) I knew this kind of person as my beloved father
had all these traits. He adored his animals SO MUCH. He never in all the
years that I observed him ever spoke a single word to any of us kids except
to yell 'go to bed!' I knew him fifty years. NOT ONE WORD. Well, when he
got near his 90's,'come over and cook for me.' But in his 80's when he
came to my house and I cooked, he'd just sit watching TV eating. He was
not stupid. He was a big star composer arranger at MGM. JOhnny Green, MIkos
Rozsa, Franz Waxman, Tony Martin, Cyd Charisse, Greer Garson, Mario
Lanza would come to our house. Mario would tear apart the fridge. Greer
would sit at the piano with him planning her nightclub act. Daddy was hired
by them all for their night club acts outside of MGM. He worked for Marlene
Dietrich but she didn't come over. He worked for Charlie Chaplin, played
tennis at Charlie's though. So Daddy made house calls.
He was used to being leonized, even by film stars, So imagine how cordial
and witty he was at home when he conversed with Mommy at dinner and we
were allowed to listen to his wit and brilliance, his Oscar Wilde act --performed
at the dinner table. But WE didn't exist for him. He could not feature
that one day we would need some grounding from basic social interacting,
maybe some advice, some personal vignettes to know him better. Or that
we'd need his counsel. WE GOT NONE OF THAT. His poodles got it. Same with
his parents who were
careerists too. All from Germany by the way. Only emotion I EVER
saw from my father was that he wept when his dog Christy died. Once I went
to his new house to reclaim my stereo (400$ from my first acting job had
bought it.) He'd taken it after my Mother divorced him for philandering.
Well as I started to walk out with it, he beat me up. Fists to face. I
persisted and got out of the house with my stereo shocked that he should
interpret my
REPO as something that demanded fists! So, I'm getting to something
here, a man who bonded with animals and was tender and loving with them
and was miserable to every other relative.
So here's the Blondi THEOREM. Animal lovers having a choice, prefer pets to humans and do not feel ANY OF THE FEELINGS their family or friends have! They are numb to feelings. They will split their time fifty fifty with friends and family, but they're nimble at getting away from anything real, tedious with them..
Hard Core animal activists don't have any use for humans. You want to prove a theorem, exaggerate it. Extrapolate to the end of spectrum. Animal activists --- they really LOATHE DESPISE AND HATE HUMANS! They maintain cordial, crisp modalities to hide the reptilian center but they'd as soon shoot you as talk to you. Like Adolph, pictured above. I know it's true, too as I met some activists recently.
I have never been put thru a Hell like the one I entered when I met the crone. It was 11 years ago, when I first moved into the Valley and began feeding my cats outside in fenced front garden. Other cats smelled the boiled chicken meat with green vegies added last four minutes & those freeloaders would come, so I'd feed them too. And it got to be a squadron of 14 hungry mouths.
Sadly, Neighbors could see them in the front yard, their little heads bent over bowls of boiled chicken. The 'cat action' attracted the attention of this warped cat-fascinated crone, four houses down. Suddenly Our Dog Java (chained on long chain on tree during the day, got reported to the Pound. "No chain on any tree, madame, ' pound employee said.. Dog must be in a fenced back yard, no chain." "But My son gets off work early at 4pm, then they are together. "Sorry. Not for one minute. Put him in the Back yard." So I did. A big big shepherd who didn't bother the cats, got the yard. 8 foot high honeysuckle hedges on cyclone fences. The very first day, Java climbed the ivy and leapt out. My son and I both went driving around that day looking for him and my son found the smashed body, wept like a child for hours, said he hated me and would never talk to me again. Ever. And soon he moved out.
A few days after Java died, I noticed 3 metal cat traps around my house, not so much NOTICING as they appeared at night, but hearing cats trapped in them howling. Three of my pets. Intuitively, I knew who it was. The crone down the street -- a woman with many cats, an animal lover and the same woman who had probably reported Java on a very long chain in the shade of a tree.
I took the 3 traps to her and said 'my dear, you nailed three of my pet cats!' She played a critical Mother Teresa imitiation, said that she just wanted to neuter them and that she did this trap, neuter release thing for ferals and she spent three grand a month on vets. (I later would find she had Baron Munchausen disease.) Now, if you realize you have a lethal landmine buried in your own back yard, what do you do? I chose to build a rosebush around it. and stupidly didn't criticize her, didn't get mad, I tried to make her a friend so she'd stop being an enemy. Hard to do as she never smiled, was grim, extremely critical of me, up tight and in general showed contempt and was no damn fun at all. Face like a rat, by the way.
Only a few days after that triple trap event, the crone saw that I'd gone to market, as my car was not in front. She broke into my back garden via the closed gate and from the tracks later, I realized she had run around all the RAISED vegetable beds, at high speed, knocking down planks, stakes earth and trampling vegies RUNNING after feral mothers and their kittens. When I asked next day, 'what were you doing in my garden, she said 'oh my tom cat is missing.' I wanted to scream, CRONE..you destroyed The Home Depot Mexican Cristobal's WORK of building raised beds, a dozen of them. ALL GONE. Vegies stomped on. But I calmed myself and even believed that emotional story, though footprints and destruction showed me clearly that she was running.
In the next ten years, I let her help me neuter cats, my own and ferals. She wanted the baby kittens for her gal pals who had 'adoption agencies' of some kind. Later I'd discover that one of them, Monika, got 450$ a kitten donation. Monika preened about that, being German but I didn't think anything. There were two other adoption agencies, Belinda's and Elyse's Probably all profiting, too. I slid into role of feeder/ breeder for them and became a KITTY SUPPLIER without my even knowing what was happening.
THEY knew what was happening. To get kitties, they threatened me, browbeat me, insulted me. If I slowed down on handing over kittens, the Crone would tell me 'oh guess what, some of our neighbors want to report you to the Pound' making me instantly sick with dread. "But don't worry, I'll talk them out of it", she assured. The crone was like her rat face, mendacious, tricky, manipulative, Macchiavelian and downright weird but I COULD NOT SEE the VAST PANORAMA behind the bOGUS PERSONA. She manifested that she was Mother Teresa Incarnate so I continued to feed ferals and the crone continued to help me get neutering coupons and harvest the kittens. TWO LITTERS A SUMMER.. She gave me l8 lb kibble bags regularly so kitties would be fabulous. She made me pay her of course, full price. She wanted healthy kittens at all costs. It was so damn GERMANIC and NEW ARYAN MASTER RACE yet I swear, I couldn't see where we were heading.
Hard times hit and the city stopped giving coupons. I asked this actress friend, (known her since junior high so for 58 years) to use her PETA connections to get coupons. She and her very wealthy HUSBAND, raving dog/cat activists both, said they'd help. You have no money for all that cat food, we're connected with PETA. Let us get together some free coupons, we're in with the whole Animal Regulation dept here." So, STUPID here, agreed to let them help me fix my cats, (noting they had city coupons available to them to get a 200$ spay or neuter surgery done for absolutely free and were super connected with the activist community. Even with the top OFFICIALS I was soon to find out!)
What I didn't note was that her wealthy husband accepted my petition
with panting alacrity, glazed eye and AVID
INTEREST. Fool that I was, I did not realize he was in a preorgasmic
paroxysm of sadism. I was now in his control. He was doing me a favor.
My next mistake: I introduced him to my neighbor the cat activist a bible
thumping Crone who fed cats at the airport, trapped, neutered, released
and who'd gladly drive the cats in cages to CATNIPPERS (his freebie vet
choice) and pick 'em up. Then he sent in a third activist, a German woman
who would do the actual trapping of ferals on my street and buckle
my cats into their cages to give to the CRONE activist WHO DROVE. and picked
up. My 28 year old Honda Civic was dead in the water, no tags, no water
pump or I'd have driven.
Now, they told me that 7 PM was cage up time. I indicated that I wanted to hand over cats in the morning or daytime as I went to bed at 3 pm being on a graveyard work shift. I reminded my junior high school chums I was a candidate for open heart surgery, had to oxygenate with SLEEP, 8 hrs of it. They were not interested. 7 PM or nothing. I had no time to get off GRAVEYARD SHIFT which takes advancing an hour a day...as we were neutering every weekend. I got on this shift at PSYCHIC HOTLINES and turned it into an exotic second job, being an astrology researcher writer, who wrote web seminars all night long, so as not to be distracted by daylight, gardening and other tempting stimulus. They insisted they had to come at 7 pm. In the middle of my sleep period. I begged for the pick up hour to be changed. SIX AM? 7AM NOON? Anything but during my sleep period! I was agreeable and polite, humble, begged on my knees. Almost. (There I exaggerate. I don't get on my knees for anybody. I guess I should have.) They all said No. Impossible. We need them at 7 PM. We fast them til 7 am when they go to doctor. Yes I said but I can fast them and 7 am is fine. NO. they said. Wouldn't hear it. Well I said, wait til I can change my body clock. I move forward an hour a day so in two weeks... I was mentally calculating when I heard: "No. NOW. TODAY Or we report you to city and they take 'em all to their death." "YOU WHAT?" I couldn't believe it. They were threatening to gas my cats?
I believe all edicts come from God. Somehow on some level, God mandates all. The waking me up after 3 hrs sleep went on every SUNDAY NITE for about five weeks cuz their vet would do 4 someweekends, or 5 or 3 or two at a time. I had to trap and cover cages so cats weren't frantic. I stopped sleeping entirely.
Prolonged sleeplessness makes even a HEALTHY YOUNG person ragged and weeping, depressed, insane and unable to earn a living (typing accurately at least,, which is what I do. I do horoscopes. Am an internet witch, have to type 8 hrs a day. I totally stopped doing my work. Clients piled up, I couldn't pay the rent. My landlord wondered what was up. I didn't know how to tell him it was CAT NAZIS. But it was something more. I am seventy years old, three holes inside my heart, aortic, sistolic and one more...pulmonary, that's it, and docs have been saying that I need open heart surgery to patch those three valves. I didn't tell that to the CAT NAZIS, though the guy's wife, my junior high gal pal, she knew it. They wouldn't hear or have empathy for ME. ONLY CATS and DOGS mattered to them. They were Tyrants for Tomcats: Their way or the highway. And they repeated the threats to send all my babies to the pound which would kill all my darling cats. So I remained stalwartly polite to my torturers. And obeyed orders SEIG HEIL MEIN FUHRER! I saluted!
And the well heeled cat activist man (married to my junior high homeroom
class best gal pal,) wrote
horrid daily e mails to me many times a day insisting that I
was being a prima donna, exact words, a jobless scoundrel, a welfare
Barbara, (referring to 25 years of raising four kids with a Basque non
paying daddy in Mexico city..) and in general KEEPING the best kittens
for myself and dragging my heels, sending me complete raving diatribes
emailed not only to me but CC'd to THE PRESIDENT OF ANIMAL REGULATION (read
DOG POUND) in my city and to groups of his activist friends as if inviting
them to a gang bang, claiming that this stupid woman didn't want to neuter
her ten cats and ferals outside, using phrases like: "I am going to report
you and have them all taken by animal reg. " i.e. gassed. Spoken like a
true Nazi. MASS' EM AND GAS 'EM
I wrote my high school girlfriend, "tell your hubby to lay off!". She's no PC gal, 'goes in her email once a month. So guess what happened. He opened HER email, and he answered me with all the same misspellings he used in his regular mail to me, yet he signed her name. He mimicked her prissy voice exactly even as "she" told me to piss off and stop being a bitch. 'She' had that Mary Poppins tone.
Next horror, the cat Nazis, (that's what I came to call them,) wanted all my young kittens. Seems the German cat nazi had kitties caged at her boutique and sold them like gum drops at her posh shop, got donations, big hefty ones for kitties, I refused, they threatened that they'd sic the cops on me. Dog police, get my animals all killed. I was a wreck. Breaking into tears at all hours. Unable to do my work, just writing letters to them saying I'm here, I'll do it. But the kitty named HENRY whom I loved most -- I wanted to keep. Or give to an astrology client friend. They wouldn't hear of it, said the kitten should NOT go to devilworshippers who did satanic ceremonies and told me all my astrology clients and friends were hippy warlocks, not theatrical agents, actors, dress manufacturers, heirs to iron pipe factories, school teachers, which they are.
So get the picture. These animal-loving activists invaded my life, dictated
cruel hours, criticized me, ran me down to each other and threatened to
murder my clan, all with evil sadistic glee. Each email lambasting ME was
directed to groups of other activists they knew, utter strangers to me!
Many working at ANIMAL REGULATION! WHo
seemed to share some fever of hatred against folks who didn't neuter,
which I WAS DOING which I HAD ASKED THEM TO DO. But they didn't have any
Jews to kick around that week so they had to make do with me. I became
THAT "BAD CAT LADY" WHO WOULDN'T COOPERATE ---when I'd approached
THEM! They depicted me to others as their favorite type of sluggard, the
cat hoarder, even used that word!. With a mere TEN CATS (I fed ferals religiously
but they weren't MINE. ) THE CAT NAZI CRONE NEIGHBOR
OF MINE HAD THIRTY cats in neat cages, locked in bare rooms like a
concentration camp! Stacked like FIREWOOD. They never got out of these
small rooms, 8 x 8. I was able to look in and see them when we went thru
her garden. (I wanted to landscape it to pay her back). Every weekend,
a few cats got neutered. Week after week, I got 3 hrs sleep on weekends.
I was a mess. I've been on my doc's list for open heart surgery to replace
valves, so I oxygenate with sleep. BUT NOT WITH THIS GANG. Months on end
without sleep on weekends. And to boot, all week long, the MALE SUPER
RICH ACTIVIST guy was sending me emails saying "give me kittens, do this
do that or I call the pound" and they will kill all your animals, and he
actually cc'd that email to three or four big pound officials. !!! He has
no human sensations. Could not imagine a.) that I was cooperating, he had
no need to take out heavy artillery, and B) that kind of thing cuts to
the heart! A heart that already needed various parts replaced.
FINALLY, One eve at 7 pm, the Crisp German Lady activist, from Bremen
actually-- real close to MUNICH where HITLER got his start --said "Can't
we open the garage, for the ferals for when it rains." NO NEED. my back
door is open, cats use it when they need it. 24/7. I have my son's guns
in the garage, I can't unlock it. What if these guns got stolen? Thieves
around here with a shotgun and pistol?
She went right to the rich sadist and told him. Anita is armed. She
could kill us all if we push her too hard. At that point the RICH GUY went
bezerk; feeling in his total guilt of being a sadist this paranoid feeling
that I'd shoot him! That he had pushed my buttons to the Nth degree and
that I was capable of murder. SUCH WAS HIS PARANOIA. Right? Hitler was
a notorious PARANOID. Let nobody near him at public functions. So the RICH
CAT ACTIVIST did some serious sleuth work and tracked down my entire
family. He emailed and phoned
each member of my family, said I was uncooperative, wouldn't allow
animals to be neutered (by then they were all neutered so he lied like
a rug,) and then he asked very obliquely, was it true I had guns in the
house?
IMAGINE you're my mother and sister, my brother, my sons, my daughter and they all hear that? YOUR MOM IS CRAZY AND HAS GUNS. Well, I get these phone calls saying just that. "ARE YOU CRAZY" HAVE YOU TRULY GONE AND LOST IT?" I try to explain the above, get no further than CAT NAZIS and they hung up on me. None would invite me for Thanksgiving or Christmas. I was out crowd wIth my own crowd. Have not seen any of them since, none have talked to me either. SCARY. MY LIFE RUINED in one fell swoop by a Nazi's paranoia. Only he made ME look wacko!
So, I am writing this to explain the misunderstanding to my family. The gun remark by the Male Cat nazi was nothing more than ADOLPH Hitlerish, UTTER raving PARANOIA of getting SHOT BY ME, by my going to the mansion and picking him off from the curb. Paranoia goes with evil as does guilt. Hate/ Paranoia, Murderous feelings, these syndromes are typical of this TYRANT type. They hide it from themselves by having great love bouts for kitties and puppies. Or being PETA donators. They know unconsciously that they're wack jobs, petty tyrants, sadists, people haters. WHich is why guns terrify them as in their mind, all humans are potential killers. All of this is part of the Blondi SYNDROME. I hear it's called the PETA SYNDROME too. They love dumb critters which can't talk back, don't criticize, who need love every time they see you, don't hold anger and have big soulful eyes. They drape animals in anthropomorphic gloriousness. See things in them that aren't really there. That glistening cocker spaniel eye and licking tongue is TOTAL true meaningful LOVE. No matter that it's really advanced STOCKHOLM SYNDROME by the poor trapped animal.
BUT THERE ARE THREE OTHER HORRORS TO GO. Each worse. First, five cages go off to the CatNippers one morning, (four ferals, one my pet Patti Kate.). Four cages return. The crone brings the four to the curb, starts unwrapping groggy cats. Pure white young PATTI KATE is not there. She denies she was ever there. I call the rest of the SS. Cat Team, complain, Dorothy didn't bring my pet home, just the four ferals. She STOLE the pure white cat! Dorothy drives off, angry and brings back Patti a few minutes later from her garage. She'd tried to steal her and I've made her lose face. I just had my baby back, I sort of forgot about it, but she did not.
A few days later, the Bible thumping crone told me that my cat HANNAH needed surgery on a small supperating spot in the ear and she wanted to have Vet see her and she'd be right back. I couldn't drive a car legally, spent all my money on raw chickens for the cats. But she wouldn't hand Hannah over after. Said Vet wanted a surgical date next "WEDNESDAY" I remember it well. I'll keep her til then I said. No, she said. A WARNING BELL SHOULD have gone off in my head. I should have called a COP but all of these people would have reported my other cats to POUND and killed them if I disagreed with anything. And,I couldn't pay for surgery and the RICH MALE NAZI said he'd pay for the surgery. Wednesday came and went, crone told me she had to give medication now. She wouldn't give her back -- after surgery!
Basically the ancient crone added HANNAH FONTANA to the 30 zombi cats she had neatly locked in rooms, in cages. 8 to a meatlocker. My darling fur daughter got the bathroom, all alone, not even the full bath, an icy powder room in October or November. I begged her for my cat back, implored. --DID THIS one day for a solid hour outside at top scream. FOR next two MONTHS I would go over to front yard, talk to Hannah through the window, explaining why this had happened.. I was imagining what Hannah was going thru in the powder room. Having to suck up to Crone the Cat Nazi when she made her appearance with some kibble for a few minutes each day. Stockholm Syndrome -- Hannah who used to love her cat confreres, roam house, garden, doors open 24/7, lie in the sun, come to Momma and get petted, tummy scratched, when SHE WANTED COMPANY, not when I wanted it, get real meat instead of Friskies kibble....that Hannah was now in Aushwitz. I wept and was told by friends, call the cops on her, allege theft.
I am unable to do things like that. Besides, over the last 11 years I know the crone, she's told me that all my neighbors want to report the amount of ferals around here and have them gassed and she's my only HEDGE against genocide. So December, the CRONE phones me. Hannah is dying, maybe a few hours left. Come say goodbye. I went over. Hannah looked 'out of it' but she could walk. I talked to her at length. She purred. I begged the neighbor woman to give her to me for what was left of her life. She refused. It would have taken my grabbing the cat and running. I thought of it. I gauged this woman's scratching me and screaming and calling the POUND and killing all my other cats vs. just accepting. I went home, a few hours later I got a phone call. The horrid woman said that Hannah had just died. Of GRIEF I AM CERTAIN.
This crazy crone who goes daily to one of those churches to join with Jesus (in her own unholy mind at least,) so that she can make the RAPTURE during Appocalypse while the rest of this planet sinks down to Hell managed to out do herself with hellish hurts.
A few weeks after Hannah's death, the crone came into my garden and stole a 4 1/2 month old male kitten named Calvin Gerald Ruggles who was so loving and hand tamed (his Mom was a feral,) and so close to my heart.. Within minutes of my return from market, she phoned me. "I have your kitten" she said. Oh good. That's good. I went to her house, she's at gate, I go past her, went in and started to look around for him. Suddenly I felt a heavy weight fall on me from behind. She had leapt on my back like an octupus, wrapped her arms around me strangling me with right forearm around my neck, smashing my voice box. And screaming HELP at full pitch. I realized she was setting me up for her neighbors to come in on this scene. Her final revenge. A plotted out plan, That was why she told me to come over.
I couldn't get her off no matter what so I walked around the house opening doors with this human riding my back, with a stranglehold on my throat, clawing my neck and arms; (they were bleeding when I got home). I figured, don't talk, don't complain just check the doors, the bedrooms, go get Mr. Ruggles. I found him locked in the bathroom just like Hannah had been. I picked him up and she swung around to hang over my front, hands around the BACK of my neck, trying to crush the kitten against my pelvis. I set him down and backed thru the hall, she's eighty so I didn't try to unwrap her arms. She saw a scowl in my eyes not three inches from hers. I reminded her she'd tried to steal Patti Kate and killed Hannah just to get back at me for busting her in public for the theft and now she'd taken Calvin to really get back at me. She was a devil of revenge, not a christian. Satan she talks about all the time was in her. Astonished, she let go, I picked up the kitten and my shoes which had fallen off and walked out on a real crazy cat lover.
ONE MINUTE LOCKED IN A
ROOM IS HELL. NEVER
LOCK A CAT UP EVER! MY
MOMMY SAVED ME FROM
FOUR MONTHS OF IT AND CERTAIN
DEATH.
I weep for my darling cat Miss Hannah who until death released her was locked in a BUCHENWALD or AUSHWITZ cold tile room full time...with a little Hitler but I'm filled with joy that I got Mr. Ruggles out. He gives me great joy today and every tussle with him, every ball chasing session reminds me that you must beware of PETA types. Stay away from Cat Activists. Kurrent Kulture hasn't as yet identified the full virulence of the PETA SYNDROME so I thrust forward my evidence, the Blondi syndrome -- for your perusal. Basic Blondi THEOREM, i.e. PSYCHO SICK animal lovers who ---having a choice, ---prefer pets to humans.
They do not feel ANY tender emotions for the family or friends that God gave them. They are numb to human-targeted-feelings. They will give some time to friends and family, but they're nimble at getting away from anything real, tedious with them yet will 'goo goo' with kittens and puppies. That makes animal lovers sociopaths, no?? Their reality is that (domestic) animals are most trustworthy/predictable (perhaps even more appreciative?) than humans, have bigger hearts as they are always in the "Now"/moment and loyal to whomever gives them good care. The pet fanatic sees how egoless they seem, always loving, licking them and interprets that brainless kindness as genuine devotion. Humans are a turn off to them. Their own wounded, PARANOID BRAIN and CUT OFF HEART don't allow them to see that Humans are much greater. All pets look up to us lovingly but they're basically in a kind of instinctual Stockholm syndrome. The human is in total control. The pet never confronts the human with his/her weird ugly quirks. There is no judgement cuz there' s limited brain. Copping to the fact that only a brainless critter can adore you, be loyal to you, should warn you that there must be something you are NOT doing with humans like bonding with them, loving them, serving them, being rudimentarily NICE and building tender relationships. Anyway, my take is, that devotion to critters is a very bad sign. Do not buy your children pets, ever!
I kind of wonder what made this Bible thumping crone tick. Why she'd hit bible classes daily reading only appocalypse chapter, calling everyone SATAN who wasn't going into the rapture, forgetting l0 commandments, thou shalt not steal, thou shalt not covet and yet steal the really pretty cats from a neighbor and justify it with 'your cat needed my medicating." She had been raised on a farm a singleton child, her only companion the animals there, parents struggling with depression era hard times, very stressed. The poor demon could only bond with animals. I am filled with compassion for the evil bitch.
EPILOGUE - I didn't see or hear from her for three months, and then the DOG POUND said they'd had an adverse report on me. IT WAS HER TIME OF REVENGE. I didn't answer their letter, was never was awake during the daytime to hear them knocking. At times I did hear pounding on my front door so I began to keep my own cats in all day, feeling like Ann frank hiding from the Nazis.. Then a few months more go by and a police officer came to my door, "She is charging you with trepassing and battery. ME? She beat ME up! I said. I tried to tell the cop what really happened.
Just then, little Mr. Ruggles came to the screen door. This is the very cat, I said. She phoned me that she had him. Ah yes, said the cop who started talking about my avoiding the dog pound. The officer knew all the details proving the Crone had reported me to the pound and to the cop.
I learned that the crone had fallen and broken her hip a few days after our encounter and blamed me for it. Reported me as a criminal. I am awaiting trial as I write this.
Avoid Cat Nazis, cat Activists. Feral trap and release people. Try to get your city officials to give you neutering coupons. If you can't get them, or you hit your limit, get friends to get the coupons. Do most important neuterings, which would be to go for females only, just to stop birth explosion flat. Because a male will travel a mile if he smells a female. Go holistic with the cat diet, less corn/kibble more simmered chicken, green vegies added at last minute. Cats can tolerate much more fat than dogs but I take all broth, skim hard fat off, into tins, give to soap makers via craigs list freebie ads. Feed all your ferals, hope that they handle themselves wisely having the consult of Mother Nature, be there for them. But don't be there for your neighbors. Humans are lousy. Only animals are good. I now have BLONDI SYNDROME.
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