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This Speaks to Me!

No Time to Post!

But I have so much to say. . .this covers a lot of it, though:

Buy TFD Stock

Ugh – catching up.

Schools were closed for two days because of snow. Delayed opening for the high school for the next couple of days because of HSPA testing. Badly-needed dentist appointment missed because of snow, hair appointment missed because of lost track of time because of days off because of snow. Gotta reschedule those, have to schedule mammogram because those lumps are probably the same old cysts getting bigger from hormone changes, but it doesn’t pay to take chances. Edit and email minutes, meeting for a different group tonight, gotta type and print stuff for that, still need to hit grocery store and restaurant supply store and get back in time to take kids to music lessons. Desk is overrun with receipts to be recorded and filed, other papers that need calls, letters, or filing, still figuring out the new bluetooth headset as well. Lots of clay to condition and bake, rugs and floors that need vacuuming and washing, laundry in both machines and more in baskets waiting for washing or folding. Two new cats that need intensive socializing and six litterboxes that need cleaning. Did I mention that I don’t work? Heh.

Thank You, Buddy Amato.

What follows is my own opinion and reflects my personal feelings. It is not a statement representing any of the groups involved, and nothing I say should be construed as originating from said groups.

Everything was under control with this rescue, but Mr. Amato, who has no jurisdiction in Ocean County, decided to stick his nose in. The report on News 12 quoted him as saying “All the animals should have been removed. . .then you get them adopted. You don’t just leave them there.” Yes, Mr. Amato, simple as that. You take 44-plus cats, all sick, flea-infested, and emaciated, and easily fit them in a shelter that has only about a dozen cages. The shelter will find a way to fit them all in, even though they’re so antisocial that almost all of them need to be caged separately. The town council will feel so bad that they all need to be spayed and neutered, that the females that are too pregnant to be spayed will give birth to sick kittens that will need veterinary care, and that they’ll need other expensive treatments and individual attention before anyone would want to touch them, much less adopt them, that they’ll give the shelter all the money they need to rehabilitate and house the cats. And, after the shelter miraculously becomes larger and acquires at least ten more cage banks, people will pour in from all corners to adopt them, even though there were already plenty of good-looking, healthy cats being put to sleep after too long a time without being adopted. In fact, the shelter administration will get so much money, so much space, and so many clients, that they will no longer have to decide that a cat is too expensive to treat, or that one cat is more adoptable than another, and opt for euthanasia. Oh, no, every cat that comes in will be taken care of, no matter how much it costs, no matter how difficult it might be as a pet, and live out its days in comfort until it finds a home! Does it work that way in Monmouth County, Mr. Amato? Lucky you!

Unfortunately, it’s not that way in any town or county shelter I’ve ever heard of, and not that way in Toms River. That’s why the cats were going to be removed in stages by the rescue group. Tails With Happy Endings took out as many cats as they could house, and began getting them the veterinary care they needed, paying for it with its own funds, swallowing the costs for food, litter, bedding, additional cages. The idea was that since the town shelter would have had to put them all down, the rescue would take them in stages and get them adopted when they were healthy and well socialized, and the town would monitor the whole situation. Yes, it meant that some would be left in their same situation for a while longer, but they’d have a chance for a better life.

I doubt that Mr. Amato bothered to find this out before issuing his judgment. In fact, I doubt he bothered to find it out at all, because he apparently exerted his influence on certain officials of Toms River to have
Animal Control go back into the house and remove every single remaining animal.

In Buddy Amato Fantasy World, he’s a hero to these animals. Here where the rest of us live, their last memories before they die will be of having been captured ungently in a place of fear and filth. The shelter is already full of cats that have all their fur, that come forward in the cages to be petted rather than cowering and hissing, that are pretty and healthy and adoptable. None of them will be displaced by the “rescued” cats. Perhaps being dead is a better alternative to living the way they did, but it’s not a better alternative to the way the first batch will end up – the way they, too, would have ended up if Mr. Amato hadn’t swooped in to save the day. Bravo, sir.

Of course, now that the town doesn’t have to spend anything to care for all these animals, maybe they can purchase a vehicle for the same purpose. Outfit it with multiple gas chambers, capture animals in crates that fit right in, cold storage in the back, and they don’t even have to go back to the shelter. It could say in big letters along the sides “Buddy Amato Mobile Euthanasia Truck,” so he could get the recognition he deserves.

Here’s something fun:

See how well you do at putting colors in order of grade from one to another. I scored 16, which is pretty good, weaker in blues and greens than other colors, which I suspected.

http://www.xrite.com/custom_page.aspx?PageID=77

Toy Food!

From Neil Cicierega, whose videos I’ve embedded here before, another work of genius. I think you’ll agree, it’s quite a catchy tune. Heh.

Something about Hacking.

We had what appeared to be an emergency last week, when one of the girls was told by someone she was IMing that he might have transmitted a virus to her that would completely wipe out her computer. There was much scrambling around for blank CDs to copy her files onto, hubby checked every possible way for a virus to get in as well as ran a regular virus scan, and I had to calm down a justifiably upset daughter. She does everything on that machine, and it would have meant losing art, writing, photos, tutorials, correspondence, and homework. Fortunately, it turned out to be a false threat, but it got me thinking.

You see, this young man and his friends enjoy hacking, creating and combating viruses and worms, challenging each other by passing them around (or teaching those less computer savvy a “lesson”). However, they don’t seem to think things through to all their possible outcomes, a typical hazard of, well, being a teenage boy. It brings me back to the early BBS days, when I had to deal with teenage boys who didn’t understand that they couldn’t have everything their own way, and couldn’t do things to people in real life to “teach someone a lesson” for something they didn’t like online. And, just as it was then, this young man simply couldn’t understand why my daughter was upset, why his offer of a rebuilt gaming computer and a half-hearted apology would not have been sufficient had she really lost everything. Then, as now, the ability to understand and empathize isn’t a well-developed trait in this demographic.

The problem I have is that I wish I could get these boys to really understand, not to punish them or work out my anger, or anything like that, but just to get it, because I know several of them, and they’re decent kids. If hubby wasn’t a computer genius, if he didn’t know how to safeguard the computers and fix things in case something went wrong, it could have been a huge-ass deal, indeed. 15 years worth of digital photographs. Downloaded programs, and programs we’d have to search through thousands of discs to find again. All the tutorials and game mods I’ve ever written, handouts for classes I’ve taught. Plus, since hubby works from home, all kinds of confidential information and work for clients could be compromised – the kinds of things a person could lose his job for. Of course, this is why he’s put in all kinds of protection, but there are some people out there with just as much to lose who are vulnerable. Were they to be hit, they would certainly not appreciate a cavalier attitude, nor would they let these kids off because they were just playing around. I don’t think, though, that they’d understand even if the ramifications to others or the consequences to themselves were outlined. It hasn’t happened so far, so it’s not going to, right?

I don’t know. Would they understand it if it were put in a more personal perspective? Say, oh, what if some kids were playing around with a slingshot or BB gun, and that car you’ve been restoring for years got messed up. Would it be OK if they offered to lend you one of their bikes? After all, they were just fooling around. And they’re sorry, geez, chill! What if someone found the case of CDs your band made and played frisbee with them all, leaving them scratched and broken all over the parking lot? Well, they didn’t know how hard you worked on them, and they can’t afford what you paid for the studio time, mixing, art, or production, but what if they feel kind of bad and give you a stack of blanks from Staples? That’d be OK, right?

Nah, that probably wouldn’t work, either. But at least I’ve said it and gotten it out of my system.

Will it Work with Facebook?

I dunno. I’m trying out an app to see if it puts a note on my facebook page when I publish a new blog post. So this is a test. 1, 2, 3. . . You know the drill.

This is Not Rescue.

(Posted on my APP blog page)

So I was talking with someone the other day about a problem he was having with a neighbor. She’s feeding cats outdoors, which in itself is not a bad intention, but she’s creating a big problem for him. More and more keep showing up, and when they’re done eating at her house, they visit his to relieve themselves. He has to clean up the yard every time his kids want to go out and play. Worse, she is apparently going to shelters and rescues, adopting cats, and then “setting them free” – thereby adding to the feral population. He is furious at her lack of regard for the problems she is creating for the neighborhood, and the problem she is creating for the ever-increasing cat population. When he complains to her, she suggests things he could do (all of them involve work and expense on his part) without offering to make any changes of her own.

I said to him that he needs to change his tack and approach her with an appeal based on her viewpoint – the way her behavior is bad for the cats she thinks she’s helping. As long as she believes she’s got a noble cause, nothing’s going to change. So I’m going to share with you what can happen if you simply put out food for the cats outdoors.

Let me start with disease. . .

Many deadly illnesses in cats are spread by close contact, when cats mate, fight, or even share a food bowl. Healthy cats and sick cats who might otherwise not interact will come together at a ready source of food. The healthy cat who then catches a disease can bring it back to its colony, pass it on to its kittens, or bring it home to the other pets it lives with (another reason to keep your pets indoors!) You have not improved the quality of life for the cats you feed if you infect them with Feline Leukemia, FIV, upper respiratory infections, or infectious peritonitis. If the cats are picked up and put into a shelter, you may also be responsible for the euthanization of a number of healthy cats who would otherwise be adopted, because some shelters cannot take chances with infectious diseases. They will pre-emptively destroy groups of cats that share even cages in the same room to avoid the expense of feeding and medicating cats that may not live in the end.

Even if the group you feed doesn’t, somehow, include any cats with these illnesses, it’s equally possible that they might have ringworm, tapeworm, or roundworm. These parasites are spread by fleas, feces, saliva, casual contact, and don’t go away without treatment. They cause the cats quite a bit of misery, and can kill them over a long time. These critters, since they are not diseases, can also be passed to other animals,and even humans. Treatments have to be repeated, and re-infestation is likely unless the entire population is cleared – not something that happens with a group of feral cats who gather over a pile of food.

The bottom line is that if you indiscriminately feed cats, don’t trap/neuter/release, or add cats to the outdoor population, you’re doing more harm than good. If you selectively feed so you can gain the trust of a cat, you can catch it and get it tested for illness or parasites so it doesn’t pass on what it might have. You can spay or neuter so that it won’t catch disease when mating or fighting over mates or territory (or lessen the likelihood) or pass it on to its offspring. Sometimes, sadly, you will have to euthanize, but that is better than a lingering, guaranteed death, and certainly better than allowing the cat to infect other, healthy animals.

If you’re aware of someone who does this, pass this information along, please. If you know people who own cats and let them roam, pass it to them, too. And if you know someone who is repeatedly adopting shelter or rescue animals and letting them out, pass the word on to the local shelter so they can place the person on a “do not adopt” list. Saving animals is a lot more complicated than pouring food into a tray outdoors.

Squeezy Puppy!

Stopped at the dollar store – saw this hideous thing – had to have it. . .

squeezy-puppy.jpg

It’s ugly. It’s filthy. It has an unpleasant texture. It’s a hideously unnatural color. But it gets worse.

squozed-puppy.jpg

It’s filled with little bones. I was laughing so hard it hurt. Then Audrey made it worse – she said, “It’s squeezy. It’s a puppy. What’s not to like?” Anyone who remembers what I used to be like when I heard “This is an unsuccessful encyclopedia salesman. This is two unsuccessful encyclopedia salesmen.” can imagine what I was like at that point. I almost walked into a newspaper machine. My family will torment me by saying “squeezy puppy” to me when I least expect it now. . .