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I am a Rescuer -- Tuesday March 15th, 2022
I am a rescuer.
I am not super-human.
I am far from perfect.
I make mistakes.
I work full-time at my paying job and spend the rest of my time devoted to caring for rescued felines.
My house is a mess, and every room (with the exception of my husband’s bathroom) is devoted to felines. Basic house cares have been neglected as there are only so many hours in a day, and I devote the available ones to rescuing felines.
I have not had a day off from rescue in literally years (unless you count the 36 hours I was gone for my father’s funeral back in 2017). Not one day off. Each early morning consists of feeding the troops; each evening consists of feeding the troops. And many have special needs. Which means I cannot even be gone from the house for more than a few hours as three felines have neurogenic bladders that need to be expressed.
I have had my eyes opened wide to the plight of felines out there with more horror stories than I can put into words. Before rescue, I lived blissfully unaware of the life of suffering for outdoor felines. Rather than presenting just adorable felines ready for adoption, I have devoted the rescue page to the reality of rescue. Yes, this is from my perspective. And, yes, this is from my heart. I do shield some of the horrors from view, focusing on the ones that arrive into our care, focusing on working hard to make a difference in their lives. But there is enough presented here to break hearts.
Over the years we have maintained our rescue’s focus on getting felines off the streets, often taking ones no one else will touch. We want to make a difference in their lives, and hope that the felines themselves will make a difference in the lives of their forever humans. We still, after all these years, adopt out adults for $50 and kittens for $60. Why? Our felines are priceless, and they have hundreds of dollars if not thousands of dollars poured into their care. We have been blessed to survive on donations to cover their costs. And our rescue is about getting felines off the streets into warm, safe, loving homes.
I am exhausted, this year more than others. COVID took a toll on me, and while ill no volunteers could come into our home. So I did everything while ill, waters, litterboxes, feeding routines, bowels/bladders, everything. And I have not gotten fully back on my feet nearly two months later. So I am more likely to say no to new felines than before. As. . .
I am a rescuer.
I am not super-human.
And yes, I am far from perfect. I make mistakes. What I present is my reality rescuing felines off the streets, as broad of picture as I can paint. It is my perspective, my view of things, my little corner of the world. So feel free to follow along the rescue journey with its ups and downs littered with the reality of a broken human in a broken world.
[SOOC]
Note:
Photo is a selfie
taken over 10 years ago
(on my 40th birthday)
with my beloved eyeless,
toothless Gumbo.
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