Foley Tries to Find the Kitties a New Home

Sometimes we angels can only watch as those we left behind make foolish decisions that complicate their lives. Furthering our misery is knowing how different the outcome would be if we were still mortal. 

This week Pocket contacted me and asked that I be the angel for the cats that were living under the house.  She told me that she had warned them that the animal control officer was arriving so they didn't get trapped.  Now the kitties were in the breeze, and she was worried. 

I know Pocket has a big heart, but I wish they had not whittled away at so much of her brain to make room.  If I were still on the mortal side, I would have gone under the house and flushed those kitties weeks ago. We are ratters for heaven's sakes.  It's in our blood. But, for all Pocket's barking, she does not want to bite, but to get hugs from everything she sees. I told her if you hug a kitty, you get claws in the back. 

As for River Song, she is more interested in developing schemes to get the cats out then getting dirty in the crawl space.  That girl has forgotten she is a dog. 
I promised Pocket when I went to the Bridge that I would never refuse one of her prayer requests.  I hadn't imagined I would be shepherding five kitties and their mom through our village at night looking for a new home. 

"The key to finding a safe place is locating one with a new car in the driveway signaling that the person living there has money to support you, evidence that the owner loves animals, perhaps a birdbath or feeder, and that they have an unsecured bottom,"  I told them as we searched for their new home.  

“We had that!" The mama cat said, "then the humans put down traps. What a betrayal."
"You shouldn't have picked a house where they already had dogs!" I said emphatically.
"Dogs? I thought it was a ferret with a thyroid problem and a stuffed squirrel."

I stifled a laugh. "We have to find somewhere nice for the kitties," I said.  'Hopefully, the human living there will find the little ones adorable, bring them inside and adopt them." 

"My babes are not becoming domesticated," the mom said.  "My father was a feral. His father before him was feral. His father before him was feral. That is four years of my family being feral.  That's an eternity. Live free or die is our motto."  

"Did you ever wonder why life expectancy in your family is about three years?"  I asked. "I know Pocket thought she did the right thing when she warned you about the traps, but the kitties would be better off in the shelter than on the street." 

"You mean in the system?" the mama said.  "No, thanks. we'd rather take our chances out on the street."  I couldn't say I blamed her. Those shelters are terrible places. Some animals are never the same after they come out. But it's better than getting ripped apart by a crazed coyote. 

We found a lovely house with a beautiful lawn. There were statues of little dogs outside signaling that the owner once had pets. There was a nice hole in the skirt and a 2018 Fiat in the driveway. I told them they found their new home. 

"We'll  try it,'" mama said, "but if the amenities under this house aren't as good as the other house we are going back."  I couldn't blame them. My parents are kind people with big hearts. The cats would probably be safer under their house than anywhere else. And I think my parents are out of the "working with the authorities" business. 

The house was 50 yards from mine. I'm sure they'll be visiting my parents soon enough.  And seeing how my sisters the ferret and the toy squirrel are treated maybe, they'll learn that being inside the house is the best of all. 

I checked out my parents' house before I l left. All was well.   I know I'll be back soon. My family needs all the angel help they can get.

We Have Kitties!

Like a biblical plague of locusts for the past two years, we have been beset by cats.  Their main point of entry is by the HVAC unit. There was a hole between the skirt and the unit perfectly sized for a cat.  A tiny kitty could also squeeze between the gaps in the skirt that surrounds the crawl space under the house.  

From the first kitty sighting, River has been adamant that we needed to build a wall on our southern border to quell the cat invasion.  I, along with my parents, took a more measured approach. I told River just because we build a wall doesn't mean the kitties won't find a way in.  

In March the kitties, in an effort to keep warm, ripped off the heat duct that had connected the outside furnace to the floor grates. After a cold late winter weekend without heat, and a big old bill, my parents sided with River and built a brick wall along the gap where the unit meets the house.  They were all mutually satisfied that they had solved the problem.  

Eight weeks ago, my Dad and I saw a fat female cat trying to squeeze under the HVAC unit.  We chased it off. There were small oval cutouts on the unit's base. It didn't look like there was room enough to invade, but life finds a way.  Daddy shoved bricks into the oval cutouts and congratulated himself on a job well done.  

When we went outside I would stop and sniff the skirt. "I think there is something down there," I told River.

“Don't be silly." She said.  "They have no way to get in."  

Last Thursday, while Daddy was working, Mommy leashed us so we could go outside.  She was ready to go out the porch door when she saw five kittens and their mom lying in a sun puddle. The kitties looked like they were having grand fun playing.  "They couldn't have come from under the house," River said. Just like that, the kitties went behind the chair, pushed back the skirt, and slipped under the house.  

River was incensed that the wall she touted would work 100 percent of the time had failed.  I was happy that a more nuanced response to the kitty problem had proven to be wiser. Mommy loved seeing the kitties, but she knew they could not stay.  She called Daddy at work, and he called the Animal Control Officer.  

The officer said he could not come out until Tuesday.  When he did arrive, he would put out a couple of traps. This upset me.  I hate to think of an animal in a cage. The next day when we went out, the kitties were playing under the chair, and the cat was lying in Foley’s garden.  My Mommy prepared to take us out the front door. I stopped and barked at the kitties. “Run for your lives. They are coming to trap you.” The mama cat sat up and nodded her thanks. 

For the next three days, there was no sign of the kitties.  I hoped they had listened to me and had found safer ground. I barked one final warning when the man arrived with the traps.  He put them by the hole where the cats had disappeared. 

On Wednesday morning, the trap was empty, and I gave thanks that no one was caught.  On Thursday I saw something moving in the cage. I looked out the storm door and saw a big possum imprisoned inside.   “You my lawyer?” he asked. I told him I wasn’t. “Can you at least give me some cigs..I need something to trade-in here.” 
Daddy called Animal Control.  A short while later the man arrived, freed the possum and took the trap.  The kitties were safe! 

I contacted Foley who reluctantly agreed to watch over the cats,  and the poor possum too.  

I hope my parents have learned their lesson and won't try to trap kitties because when you do, you often end up with an ugly possum.    Daddy said he had sealed the skirt, but we expect to have more kitties next summer. 


Nature and life always find a way to spoil human plans.  I hope the persistent pussies proved this to my parents. 

Wordless Wednesday

Beat This Caption

You only have one baby in there?  My mom gave birth to six.  It doesn't seem to be very time efficient to give birth on only one 

Monday Question

What are some of the wild animals you have seen?

We have seen possums, squirrels, chipmunks, groundhogs, eagles, owls, vultures, deer, coyotes, turkeys, and rabbits.

Darby the Shark Fighter Is the August 25, 2019

Earlier this week I was taxed with speaking to sharks and trying to dissuade them from getting close to Cape Cod beaches.  I went as a ghost. I knew if I took corporal form, I was at a high risk of being eaten up. I don't know any land creature that is brave enough to approach a shark. 

That was before I knew of Darby a 1-year old pit-bull who confronted a shark and lived to wag the tail.  This is Darby's story. 

Darby's dad, James White, was fishing from the shore at Bodega Bay in Sonoma County, California.  Darby stayed in the car overlooking the bay and wondered why he didn't just stay home and relax. Sometimes when we ask questions, we get answers we did not expect.  

James hooked something big.  He fought to bring it to shore.  It took him ten minutes to land what turned out to be a sevengill shark.  It wasn't just his fishing skills that helped him land the beast.  The shark was swimming to shore as fast as he was being reeled in.  Perhaps it was looking for lunch.  

At this point, Mr. White's experience as a fisherman nearly led to his undoing.  An inexperienced fisherman would have cut his line and thrown the shark in the sea.  Mr. Brown thought he had the skill to save his line. He reached down to remove the hook from his prey's mouth; the fish mounted a counter-attack. 

The shark twisted and bit down on Mr. Brown's ankle. It severed an artery.  Blood began pumping out of his body covering the shore.  To make a bad situation worse, the shark would not relinquish the hold.  White jerked and turned, hit and kicked hoping the shark retreated.  It was acting more like a fish who had caught a human than a fish caught by a human. 

Meanwhile, Darby was just chilling in the car when he heard his dad scream for help.  Sometimes, when our parents are in danger, we dogs let slip just how talented we are.  Darby opened the car door, hoped his father would not notice his ability to do so, and rushed down the hill.  Without a thought of his own safety, Darby attacked the shark's side biting its gills. 

Unfortunately, this only caused the shark to tighten his grip. White tried to call Darby off, but they would not leave his human in danger.  Realizing his first attempt was unsuccessful, Darby adopted a new tactic.

The only creature in nature who can match a shark's bite is a pit bull. Darby sunk his teeth into the shark's tail and locked on. He began to walk backward up the hill, dragging the shark until it relinquished hold of the leg.

When the shark was clear of his Dad, Darby let him go.  Mr. Brown limped up the hill, grabbed the shark, and threw it into the sea.

Mr.  Brown told everyone that Darby had saved his life.  There would be no parades, no testimonial dinners, just the knowledge that his Dad is proud of him. To a dog that is enough. 


And somewhere in the Pacific is a shark with a pit bull bite on its tail and a whale of a tale to tell.

Foley Enters the Shark Tank

I have never been a big fan of sharks. I try to avoid anything that can chew me up like a Liver Snap.  Even the sharks I meet at the Bridge are cold, aloof and impatient, like a starving man waiting for his order to be filled at Subway.  The only sharks I truly like are the little ones who swim around in a fish tank. My friends Max and Baron have one. He's awesome. He is another soul determined to show smaller is better.  

I have received several prayer requests from business' owners on Cape Cod who are seeing their summer season washed away because of the number of times the beaches need to be closed after another shark sighting.  No matter how good your sales are, no one wants to shop Shark City. 

I love fulfilling prayer requests, but this one was tricky.  I decided the best way to approach the sharks was to be a ghost. The ravenous predators were likely to eat the body I borrowed, and I did not want to visit their dreams because they are dark and twisty places. 

I decided to levitate above them as a ghost. If nothing else it would be a cool visual.  7
I spotted two sharks who were lazily swimming off of Nahant Beach.  I perched above their fins. "Excuse me, " I said brightly. "I am a ghost who needs to ask you a few questions." 

The shark leaped out of the water and tried to bite me, only coming up with vapor.  "Who is there?" He asked, excitedly.

I said I had been tasked with asking them to stop hunting close to the beach and scaring the humans so much they stop swimming.

"We only go close to the shore because that's where the seals are," a shark, who identified himself as Fred, said.  "Have you ever had one of those things? Crunchy on the outside, creamy on the inside, with a caramel center. They are delicious."
I told him I did not like seafood. "My brother Tom was like that,” Ed said.  “Hated seafood. Last I heard he was trying his fin at being a land shark. I wonder how that worked out?." 

I asked him if I got the seals to move if they would stay away from the beach.  Bruce, the second shark, shook his massive head. "Truthfully, we want to scare the humans, with their jet skies, their motorboats, paddleboards boards. They are messing up a perfectly quiet sea.  Sometimes we swim up to them and go: "do, do, do, do, do, do, do, do," and watch them freak out." 

"And sometimes we eat them by mistake, " Ed said. "Have you ever had human?  It's mostly fat, it's gamey, it has a horrible aftertaste, and it is hard to digest.  The grain-free is a little better, but we don't have time to read the labels.

I realized this was one of those dreams that would be answered with an affirmative "no."  But, at least I had tried. I thanked them for listening and said I must get back. The Cape Cod Small Business Organization demands to hear bad news immediately. 
They asked if I could go with them to the ocean floor to watch a movie. It was the shark version of "Jaws."   I was intrigued and said I could hang out with them a little longer. 

The movie was great.  At the end instead of Roy Schneider killing the shark with a lucky shot, the shark lifted its head out of the water and snapped old Roy in two then had a Dreyfus Dumpling for dessert.

I found, as would humans if they took a chance, that sharks were utterly delightful creatures with the one drawback that they might eat you.


But what's a lost leg between friends?