Posts Tagged ‘mammalry’

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So I’ve been adopted.

July 25, 2009

So there’s this cat, which I’m calling Godiva due to the fact that she looks exactly like a truffle when she sits in the sun. (Not confirmed that she’s female, but I hate calling her ‘it’ and she hasn’t sprayed anything so she’s definitely not an unfixed male.) I’ve been feeding her, because she’s fur and bones and because I love having things to take care of in return for affection. And affection has been returned! She won’t really tolerate anyone but me, but with me she’s super sweet, lots of purring and rolling around. She’s still quite shy, and our theory is that she was someone’s housecat but got left behind in a move or something.

The thing is… well, there’s two sides. Side one: we live in the woods. Last month, we found the remains of a cat that had been eaten– completely devoured, except for the front legs and a lung– on our front yard. This is not an easy place for cats to live, frankly. Our neighbor has adopted one cat, and feeds her up at his house. This one has been sort of hanging around, and I’m feeding her on the far side so as not to cause a territorial dispute. I’d love to take her in, give her a safe, warm, dry place to sleep and eat, somewhere where I’m not afraid she’ll get messed up by raccoons and other, larger wildlife we’ve got out here.

However, this is a rental. We’re going to be here for one year, <i>maybe</i> two. The owner has let us know that she’s okay if we adopt one of the feral cats, but that doesn’t exactly solve the problem of what to <i>do</i> with the cat when we all graduate or move out. Not only that, but I live with dog people. Raquel is allergic to cats, so my housemates¬† don’t want the cat inside, or if it does come inside, they don’t want it on the furniture or in the common areas. I can’t really bring a cat inside and try to explain to it why it can’t sit on all the soft surfaces in the house, though, and she does have fleas and a couple other probable health issues just from living in the wild for too long. I can’t afford vet bills, though, I can’t afford flea treatment. I can afford the food, but that’s kind of it.

I don’t want to give this cat to the shelter. She’s sweet, but she’s a little beat-up and I’m not completely confident that they’d find a good home for her. I don’t want to give her up to some stranger, either. So, I really need someone that:
1.) I know, or am at least acquainted with,
2.) Lives in Northern California (shipping cats long-distance is kind of awful)
3.) Has a stable home amenable to cats
4.) Can afford to and is willing to take care of this cat’s particular needs, health-wise and trust-issues-wise
5.) (obviously) Wants a cat

If you or someone you know fits all these qualifications, please <i>please</i> contact me, either through this post or through email. I want this cat to have a good home, and since I can’t entirely provide that, I want to find someone that can.

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Schrodinger’s Seal

June 26, 2009

Today, Becca and Raquel went surfing and I tagged along so I’d get to do errands in town afterwards. While they were in the water at Cowell’s in Santa Cruz, I wandered up to the nearby lighthouse (the one with a surf museum in it) to pass the time. On the cliffs there, past the fence and behind the numerous signs about not going on the cliffs or touching the wildlife, there was a baby seal.

Being completely sentimental and a little touristy, I stopped to take a picture. However, I quickly realized that this was not the sort of baby seal that wanted its picture taken. It was clearly sick, listless and visibly emaciated. Its front fins, proportionally huge for its body (like a puppy with huge paws) were all dry and cracked and looked infected. The longer I looked, the more my heart broke. It was very obviously stranded and starving, and I knew perfectly well that it was illegal for me to even get close to it- not that I had any idea what I would do to help it, even if I had gotten closer. It was too young for fish, really too small to be away from its mother at all; I could see, in fact, two distressed seals lingering around and swimming back and forth in the water immediately below the cliff.

The nearby “Don’t you dare mess with the wildlife” signs had a number for the Marine Mammal center. I called that number three times over the course of the next hour, increasingly upset. Passers by stopped, commented, made sad or cynical murmurs at it, and moved on. Two different ladies stopped to hug me, near the end, because I was crying so hard. The thing would adjust, and sigh, showing off all its ribs, then a few minutes later it would look at me, without lifting its head, as if it was too tired. One of the ladies who stopped to comfort me then went to pester the park rangers to pester the Marine center. The third time I called the center, they said that, yes, they’d heard about it and were sending someone out. However, regulars to the paths around the area reported that they’d called in a week ago about the same seal, and that the center had promised they’d send someone out then, too.

Finally, we had to leave to get Raquel to class. While we were on campus, we made a quick loop through the Earth & Marine Sciences building, pestering all the professors in their offices for phone numbers. We were on the phone for about forty minutes solid, bothering people at the Long and Seymour Marine Labs. Finally, we went back down to the beach to check on the seal.

It was gone when we got there, about an hour after we’d left it. I have no idea now if the seal is alive and in the care of a wildlife rescue team, or dead and simply cleared away to where it won’t upset the public.

None of this is really relevant to anything. Except, you know, overfishing is bad and starving baby seals are really depressing.