Up and down hills and along narrow roads with grass growing in the middle... past tiny cottages...roses round their doors...tiny reed bordered Loughs...solitary fishermen sheltering under huge green umbrellas...crazy Collies risking life and limb biting at our car wheels...going through the Best Kept Village In All Ireland Counties...2009...past the Organic Gardens... cabbages drowning in a sea of mud.
Through the village of Arigna...signs everywhere for footpaths to follow in the steps of the Coal miners who walked over the mountain to work long hours in the coal mine...back home to their cottages five miles away...
The cat lady's place is as isolated and as remote as can be. At one point the actual road simply disappeared into a heap of scrambled tarmac that'd fallen into the ditch...
And she has ponies and dogs... as well as so many...too many, cats. And kittens...and half-grown cats.
It is awful difficult when trying to run a rescue place not to become over-whelmed...I've often heard my friend Maureen saying some animals need to be rescued from their rescuers...it's what came to mind this afternoon actually.
Not enough money to employ anyone...having to rely on volunteers when living in such a remote location and with so many people already out every day working in full time jobs...any volunteers tend to be older women who aren't as fast on their feet anymore for the sheer hard work of cleaning out...never mind exercising all those dogs and feeding the ponies.
Himself wandered off and talked to today's helper...she was young and wearing an exceedingly low cut skimpy top...
I stood in front of cages bewildered and befuddled...it was all a bit stinky and even with oxygen nodules stuffed in my nostrils I really found it hard.
Then I saw a little Tabby...with stripes...and a speckled tummy...he'd arrived with his young mother yesterday from Dublin...he's had his first injection against all the nasties cats can catch...he's supposed to be ten weeks old, but he's awful small.
The cat lady put him in the carrier and I gave her a generous donation...Himself was still outside, so he didn't see, 'cos he'd have quite forgotten how grateful we used to be when someone adopted a dog from us and handed over decent cash in return...
Now he's sitting on my lap after eating a sachet of Whiskas kitten food...I think it was the one with chicken.
He spat at the dogs and frightened Bobby witless...poor Bobby... who does tend to be a big girls blouse... shot straight into the bedroom and hid under the bed...ignored Millie who ignored him...and decided Eilis is going to be his worst enemy. I whacked her with the fly swatter when she thought stretching the kitten might be good for a laugh...she's sulking now.
Home O2 concentrator.
lung volume reduction through value insertion
Home test kits dust mites/pet dander
