A soft heart deals with an old stray cat.

As in all rural areas, Oregon is no different than anywhere else in the world. For the mistaken belief  all cats and kittens are assumed to be naturally self-sufficient.   When they are dumped in the country surely someone will take them in or they will learn to live on mice they can catch. It is almost always the very old or the very young who are dumped. It breaks our hearts and tears our souls to find dead kittens in the wood pile and dead old cats behind the barn.

This is my cousin's adventure.  She has the softest heart in central Oregon.  As she told her story.... 

I am only allowed to have one cat and one cat only.  This means I can't feed any strays that pass through the property. Sorry, I can't help myself.  I try to find homes for those that are not good candidates for adoption and the others are taken to the humane society at least well fed and groomed.

 It was very cold and the temperature wasn't making it above freezing during the days.  I came home from work and peeking out from the bushes were four green eyes.  One pair belonged to a black healthy female.  The other pair belonged to an ancient wide black male,  his width created by heavy mats of hair draping his sides.  The mats will slowly peel away thru shedding cycles, but this poor creature's  mats were infiltrated with cheat grass seeds that were poking holes in his skin creating abscesses.

There had to be a way to remove these mats.  I called Mom and she found a couple of hair clippers for us to try.  This  is the most amazing old cat I've seen in awhile.  As I hold him and Mom welds the clippers all we hear from him is a little 'eep'.  Weirdest sound I've ever heard from a cat.  We can't get them all off.

I have found a groomer that will work on cats and has taken off many mats.  So I make an appointment.

It's only 15 minutes from home.  Cat carrier at the ready, I get the old boy out of his bed and off we go.  We are about 5 minutes away from the groomer when an odd smell waifs over to me.  I'm driving but I glance over to watch him peeing in the carrier.  I hold by breath as I watch the urine slosh side to side, I pray I don't have to stop suddenly.  I can see the groomer's office, the odor is worse. I look again, he is now pooping in front of the cage door. This can't be happening, it couldn't get any worse.  Wrong.  He looks at me, he was woken up, placed in a cage, his look says I'm sorry, but but you are the one who  changed my morning routine. He has no idea what to do now, he's tired and decides to just lay down. It just got worse..

The groomer understood and said to bring him on in.  The old man stood like a statue and all that came out of him were little peeps that  sounded like baby birds.  It was over in a jiff and we headed home. 

I let him out of the cage, sorry old man, but I have to work.  I shower, head to work where I tried  to figure out the safest way to bathe a poopy, stinky, cat.
  
I stopped by my cousin's on the way home.  We finally came up a dip and rinse method with  tubs of water. If he was a wild man, the first dip would let me know and at least he'd be rinsed.  He loved his bath.  From tub to tub  his life only got better.  He spent the rest of the day following me,begging for more attention.  I didn't get much done this afternoon.

I am now looking for a permanent home for a strange looking cat with no hair on his sides, but loves baths.