I received a beautiful letter from Peter and Lee Lyford, which is definitely worth sharing with you:

Dear Charley’s Strays,

It has been one year since we adopted Amos from your shelter, and we wanted to let you know that he’s doing very well. Amos is a big, lovable goofball who is an expert at making us laugh. Because he is so full of energy, he could at times be a challenge when walking him on a leash. But we recently took ourselves to a trainer (Amos came along, too) and learned what we needed to do to communicate that we like him to keep the leash loose for us. Amos is very smart and he caught on right away.

Thank you so much for saving Amos. On the first day we met him in Clinton, Amos leaned up against us and then melted for a belly rub. As we drove away that day we knew he was meant for us, and he has been a wonderful addition to our lives.

Amos is a handsome dog (and he seems to know it). Many people stop us on our walks to admire him, and we always tell them about Charley’s Strays. We hope that the enclosed donation will help you to help the other dogs at Charley’s . . .

Letters like this give me back some hope for the human race.

We also received a very sad letter from Susan Culver, who had adopted our black Lab, Sadie, four years ago. Sadie, who was already up in age, I believe she was somewhere around eight years old or so, when Susan adopted her. Unfortunately Sadie died of cancer, and within one week of being diagnosed with this horrible illness. I am so sorry for your loss, Susan.

Cat Report – September & October 2008

I’m delighted with the load of goodies Gabriele brought home from the fund-raiser for our cats. Haven’t had time to sort things yet – Gabriele left them at the kennel and I picked them up yesterday – but I see canned and dry food, a variety of beds, and toys, including lots of balls that will keep cats amused for hours. There was only one label on a bag, and that blew off on the way home in the back of my pick-up, so I can’t thank individuals. I’ll just say many, many thanks to all of you who were thoughtful enough to shop.

And thanks also to the coupon-clippers – Suzanne Belisle, Jennie Bering, Teresa Parent, Irma Simon, Judy Smith, Jean Tillson – I hope I didn’t forget anyone. Those 50-centses and one-dollars really help, especially with prices going up all the time. The 20-pound bags of conventional Tidy Cats, my preferred litter, went up 20 cents this week at the store where they’re least expensive. I’ve been expecting an increase, given the cost of fuel to transport the stuff, and the last time there was a sale stocked up to the point where I had over 1,000 pounds in the back of the garage earlier this month. But it won’t last forever.

The big news from this month is that the fall house call is over! I’m extremely grateful to my vets for making house calls and saving me the hours it would take to lug all the cats in by threes and fours. But it makes an exhausting day (and an expensive one). Before the vet and tech arrive I chase down Peter and Pooh and get them into carriers, as they’d be totally uncatchable with strangers in the room.

I also try to anticipate where there’ll be wild chases and do preparatory things like moving water bowls out of the flight paths.  Heather (the vet) and Bobbi (the tech) did a super job this time; they caught everybody who needed to be vaccinated, including Shy High and Emery. It took all three of us to corner Shy under a chair where Heather could throw a towel over his head (so he thought he was hidden, she explained) and pull him out.  Heather and Bobbi got Emery quite easily, to my surprise (and his); he’s a big, strong cat who’s either evaded capture or broken free for the last several years.

Kennebec let me hold him while Heather looked at him, but she didn’t try to stick a needle in him. Kennebec, for those of you new to this cat family, is named after the river on whose bank he was conceived. A woman who adopted a dog from us had been feeding feral cats; when she was taken ill, Charley’s took back the dog, of course, and I recklessly asked if there weren’t some cats, too. The very nice animal control officer for the city brought me Emery and Kennebec’s pregnant mother, Evita.  She delivered only three kittens, and only Kenn lived to grow up.  He barely made it – several crises when he was a baby, and when he was a young adult he had a heart attack when I treated his ears to kill mites. Hence the care with which I and everyone else handle him.  Evita died fairly young, but Kenn, as I wrote in August, is finally thriving. He has big round eyes that make him still look like a kitten; Heather, looking at his eyes and his rather flat face, deduced a Persian somewhere in his ancestry.

Heather found no unexpected problems with any of the cats, and there’s no follow-up care needed. The only other one who’s seen the doctor these last two months is Mr. Tom.  Like Purina/Meg in July, he turned out to have cut down on eating because he had some bad teeth; he had a couple pulled and the rest cleaned and is back to normal. 

 I hope all of you are looking forward to the November and December holidays. Thank you for keeping us in your minds and hearts.