Satsu Issues an Apology

satsuGood Morning Everyone! My name is Satsu and I’m temping here at The Little Bookstore until March 11. Then I’m moving to DC to pick up some more admin work there.

I’ve arrived in the nick of time here. They sure needed help. The fuzzy guy who runs the bookstore has been dealing with the loss of a personal friend, poor brave soul, plus he’s working three jobs – trying to get a class together for the College for Older Adults, run the bookshop, and renovate a room in Hazel House. (That’s the house he helps run for rescue cats, sweet boy.)

They tell me there’s a lady who works here with the fuzzy guy, but I’ve not seen her – unless she’s that flash of cotton fabrics and hair that whirls through the place about once a week. Someone came in the other day, dropped a suitcase, picked up a suitcase, and left again. That may have been her.

I’m told she just turned in a manuscript for her third book, which is about foster care and adoption. Naturally I assumed it was about cats, but no, it’s human children and social workers and foster care parents, all talking about their experiences. Whatever it was, getting it done on time kept her from putting up any other blogs this week. She left a phone message asking if I could write something, and I’m happy to earn my keep here.

There are just a few temps like me here right now. Four of us started together, but two of the younger girls went out the door a few days later, adopted to forever families. It’s always the cute young ones who go first.

But no worries. Me and this plump older tabby named Nancy Drew, we’re headed out next week, gonna go live in the Big City. I don’t know about Nancy – her goals in life seem to be “Move as little as possible, eat as much as possible” – but me I’m looking forward to life in the fast lane. Papers to pee on, files to eat, online documents to destroy with keyboard crossing – oh, I can’t wait to get started!

So if you were expecting to hear from Fuzzy Guy or Whirling Lady, please be assured they’ll get back in touch next week. I think. He’s up to his ears in faucets and pipes and she’s off someplace doing something for her parents. She’ll be back. Fuzzy Guy is expecting her to help him hold some pipes in place.

Hasta la vista, babes!

Peace, Love, Cat Videos

I’m working on my book about cat rescue, and one of the recurring themes is “Why do people rescue cats?” (Or dogs, but the undercurrent is, why do people “bother” to help animals at all?)15134332_1371938282817232_41046199_n-copy

And I guess there’s a cynical answer, and a real answer – I’m just not sure which is which.

On the one hand, Gandhi said, “The greatness of a nation and its moral progress can be judged by the way its animals are treated.” For those who reject Eastern wisdom, from the Bible it sounds like “What you do for the least of these my brethren you do for me” except some people will tell you Jesus was only talking about humans. You can also quote Martin Luther King, Jr: “Never, never be afraid to do what’s right, especially if the well-being of a person or animal is at stake. Society’s punishments are small compared to the wounds we inflict on our soul when we look the other way.” In other words, do it because the powerless need defending, and because in defending the powerless we become blessed/empowered/alive/real.

That’s one answer. The other is, when everything around you is sliding out of control, if you only have something small in front of you that you can do to alleviate suffering, you should do it. Whatever it is. I can call DC and register my concerns, but I can’t single-handedly stop anything. Most of any “social justice activism” lifestyle comes down to adding our voices to a larger pot, not being a soloist hero.

When a cat is in front of you, and it’s sick or pregnant or cold, you can pick it up and take it to the vet. (Yeah yeah, nobody has any money; there’s more than one way to pay for a cat.) And it won’t suffer needlessly.

The world is going crazy. Kids have cancer. People hate each other. So I’m rescuing cats while Rome burns. Yeah. Okay. I’ll take it. It’s what’s in front of me, and I know how to do it. It makes a difference to the cat and the cat’s new family; if that’s all the good that comes of this action, fair enough.

That said, petting a cat lowers your blood pressure (assuming you are not allergic, of course) so it’s not all about giving. Watching cats play is better than watching TV. Especially these days.

I’m not an ostrich with my head in the sand; nor am I numb. I’m making those phone calls and keeping up with relevant news. But the biggest small changes I can effect these days are fur-bearing. I’m downy with that.