More About PushPush and Another Kitten, Flash

That wasn’t the first time I’d lost PushPush ( I had made a shaded camp behind a grocery that no one ever gets trespassed from despite the endless dumpster diving there. She went outside only a few days after I had trapped her. I was horrified when I realized she was gone and searched hours or an hour for her but never found her. I went back to the camp and waited for her and she came back playfully walking on top of a wall and I got her back.

Some days or a day later a worker at the grocery store threw rocks at my shelter while we were inside.

Some days later they called the police on me as I was inside ane he trespassed me. So I went inside an empty apartment that a heroine druggie named Justin, maybe 25 years old, led me to and we stayed inside. My neck was in extreme pain as it is sometimes and it was excruciating pain. So I asked him about heroine, if it would help, and he said it would tho days before told me never to use it.

I smoked an extremely small amount and it seemed to help but it made me nauseas and I puked from it not long after after leaving. I went back to that place and met for the second time a young blonde meth druggie named Taylor whom I had met days or months earlier outside at night. She was 17. She came in with her boyfriend “Country”, real name is Matt or Matthew who was maybe 24.

None of these druggies cared about PushPush, I didn’t realize that much. I didn’t know at that time but Taylor and Country were hardened thieves with no conscience.

I had bought a nametag for PushPush and she wore it. But as I’ve hinted before don’t like weighing a kitten’s neck down or if not that get annoyed by the jingling bell I eventually use with them, so take them off or off as a way to quickly unleash them when I have a leash to go with their collar.

When PushPush ran to safety on or the day after Thanksgiving I had unleashed her and lost her nametag. But so before I’d lost her at the Strip, and on to my second day in that apartment, after Taylor and Country left and a new (to me) girl came in named Julia, police came and arrested me but not Justin or Julia.

My warrant was for the lie about selling ONE kitten at the Strip, a lie made up by a cop inspired by a ranting very drunk tourist female claiming to be of an animal rescue organization and first accusing me of my kittens (including Sasha Washa) being dead, then drugged.

I told Justin in a warnful way to take PushPush for me and give her back after I was out of jail. I think I reminded him of the cats the sorority girls stole (which included Sasha Washa, who bore three kittens, one which I sold whom I named Sparta) and that PushPush was my life. I think I even told him “my life” twice. He assured me but from Julia after I was out found out he lost her.

Julia told me where she was and that she even saw her hanging around there, which was a homeless camp (a biggish one, junky, in a large dirt lot). I went there at night calling for her and asked the homeless there if they’d seen her and they said no. But I kept calling and she came out a little and the homeless people there got her back for me.

Some days later after losing PushPush I looked for another kitten and found out somehow those homeless people had a young kitten maybe two months old (who I think I might have learned of when I heard a homeless man at that camp where PushPush was, the same one who came out to find her for me, when he was yelling at him to stop meowing.) I named him Flash at some future time. He was a tabby with dull green eyes and had a common sneering pattern around his nose.

The guy selling him to me was a druggie I think. He sold him to me for cheap. When he got Flash to come out Flash was meowing and ran up to me and tried to get me to play with him and when I took him away after buying him he bit me kinda hard but he quickly fell in love with me.

It’s a somewhat long story about what I went through with him that at about 7pm just now I accidentally deleted after painstakingly typing out for you Jeanine, (and retyped with some differing words and details) had learned one of those homeless people may have been abusing him, as a tourist pointed out to me his whiskers were unusually short and saw they’d been burned short, as if by a lighter. So perhaps I had rescued him.

And not long before Christmas this very loving, very friendly and hyper playful kitten, Flash, was stolen by a teen druggie female I had mentioned to you, a meth addict named Taylor, who is a notorious thief without or next to no conscience. Taylor adored him with envy (though not PushPush!) not caring my first ones hae been stolen or ahout PushPush.

A fat lesbian-looking security guard at Vons helped Taylor to secretly steal him when one night I went into Vons to buy him food and though I called the police the guard lied about everything and had even prevented me by tricking me from using the phone at Vons to call them. One cop even  mocked me who came, saying, “No cat was stolen.”

However after the guard let me waste a ton of time looking admitted the/a group of blondes I’d seen passing Vons had gone near him after I went inside Vons. And a druggie I met by the doors and one named Kevin would admit one of those blondes was Taylor, and had taken it to her mom’s (or grandmom’s) house.

The druggie by Vons was going to take me but changed his mind and used me to try and get back his scooter which Taylor and her boyfriend “Country” stole from him. It turned out he had stolen it from someone else but he didn’t tell me.

He thought he saw it on the street as it went by, and I chased it on my bike and slid into the street and badly damaged my right shoulder that a stalker detective in Albuquerque unlawfully had already badly damaged when he was arresting me (years ago, in 2010), pretending I was resisting arrest.

That lesbian guard at Vons is so hateful that she had months earlier before helping Taylor and Country steal Flash) that she told me she “hated” everyone (or “people”) and avoided talking to anyone as they were all untrustworthy.

Some weeks after she told me she hated everyone she became sad and bitter over me merely GENTLY DISAGREEING with her that all cats should be sterilized. She hated cats and was envious of me and mine, but wouldn’t admit it and over that told me police would be called on me and “watch” or “you’ll see” FOR MY BELIEFS!

When I learned Taylor stole Flash found out soon her and Taylor expertly lying about not having him, that her mom was a waitress as Rum Runner by Spencer Street. She admitted having him but said shensold him to guy who wanted him for his daughter’s birthday or she said, }Christmas”and asked if I’d break that girl’s heart (it was all lies).

She nervously lied to me and prevented me from getting him back with minor help by annoying me away from/by the Rum R. manager there and a chef or dishwasher and a fellow female waitress telling me to just replace him.

One night her boyfriend druggie thief “Country” (who later became a drug dealer too) was with her and he mocked by saying Flash “misses you”). Many months later I encountered Taylor in that alley where I told you I’d rescued kittens from like PushPush. She showed me Push’s nametag, saying she found it at the bottom of a dumpster.

This is the same Taylor I told you recently flipped me off when I saw her near the Strip and whose car I suspected was stranded as I passed it. I was told by a meth druggie who adamantly said she’d get Flash back being that she knew Taylor and Country were desperately evil that supposedly the grandmom of Taylor had gone to a hospital (or died?) and that Flash and other cats’ fate after that were unknown. I got that news perhaps around April or May or maybe even months before that.

So, do you have a good understanding of what now my life has been like living in Las Vegas, Jeanine? It wasn’t “easy”.





Why does the number of text messages matter? If a school kid told a teacher “that’s too much to read”, wouldn’t she laugh at him?

How do you make it out that you “love” my cats and yours, yet, severely without evidence and only opposite evidence BELIEVE I’m a terrorist about to murder anything in sight (that’s delusional and drama queenery if I ever heard it) and yet then DON’T READ ALL THE MESSAGES?! If I’m such a threat how in the Hell does that =equaldon’t read all the messages?

Either you’re the one being a drama queen and EXTRMELY CALLOUS, and or are delusional. Everyone of of those previous messages of “the 50” as you put it was written respectfully asking you in basic ways to see that you are being RUDE AND CALLOUS and ARROGANTLY DISMISSIVE.

I’ve made it plain as day my emotional health is attached to my cats, hence “may I see pics at least” and have met a million assholes preventing me from enjoying them, YOU DENY THE OBVIOUS AND REVERSE IT ALL like that cops arresting me for “murder” or whatever is as if a benefit to say Mowmow, so she goes hungry.

So how is it you want to convince me you “love cats” but are okay with essentially me suiciding when I care and cared for them? THAT is what is “crazy talk”, when you say against the evidence or my word, “oh the cops just love cats” or “don’t want you at the strip”. The hell? So you think the cops at the strip lying about the kittens being sick trying to convince me they’d get killed by Animal Control = “they love cats/just trying to scare/annoy you away as you’ve said or implied?

Why is you world in reverse to everything obvious and common sense? If animal control killed all your cats violently and a druggie stole your car and another robbed you into homelessness and your landlord accused you of being “a dirty Jew cat hoarder who messed up her apartment and annoys neighbors and stalks them” and lied to cops saying she gave you a three day eviction notice whn it was false, and you said to someone SUPPOSED TO BE A FRIEND, THIS:

“I feel so overwhelmed and sad because of all this, I just wish I was dead” would her/his response be correct if it was: “well fine then i’m blocking you unless you stabilizr and cheer up, you’re worrying me, you might kill me, plesse go away”? That’s good manners and being a friend, polite, helpful?

Jen? Or when your car stolen and you seeing the monkey taking it shout, “I’ll kill you!” would anyone be justified in calling THE COPS ON YOU for saying “she wanted to murder, go on a murder spree, she’s, mentally unstable and needs to cheer up and be positive”?

That’s what you think is an appropriate belief and attitude towards everyday feelings and expressions when someone deliberately wrecks your life or steals your valuables and especially whenur homeless or poor already? What, the, hell? You truly want me to believe that you lack basic understanding of human emotional responses to horrible experiences?

Jen, if it’s true you’re cold-hearted and impatient with HUMANS and so much so you hate hearing them out to not make assumptions, why in the world would my cats be best with you?! What the? It’s as if you short-term memory is shot! You took basically healthy cats from me, saw me sacrifice my financial security, emotional, life by letting you foster them, then at the drop of a hat instantly (figuratively speaking) turn me into a terrorist suicide bomber, and me being baffled and upsetnat you saying you’d block me (in imitation of Madeline’s conniving text replies) when I keep telling you you have my kids = it’s me who is the drama queen? Jen, you’re the one thinking irrational and unreasonable and rude things and not being fully considerate.

If i keep telling you I have to jump around unreliable wifi spots and my phone dying and me not making money because i’m too busy trying to get you to show me or let me pet or hug my cats wouldn’t you think, “damn, he must be upset, especially if he told me his health is shit and people keep wasting his time and stealing from him”? And THEREFORE not avoid me more, or threaten blocking, but say, “dude, i sent you pics I’m not lying, your app must suck, so okay if you’re truly not getting them don’t blame me, I’ll email them then.” Not, “i’m worried you’ll blow yourself up in my apartment.” What the?

Or what if I was a little kid and said “Miss teacher Jen, my parents were abusive and died today, druggies stole my dogs, i’m all alone now and wish i could kill them and die,” are you SERIOUS, SERIOUSLY TELLING ME YOU WOULD THINK, “possible jihadi, might blow up, kill my cats, i’ll tell him to stop being a drama queen, stop talking murder sprees and suicide, tell him he’s a danger to his dogs and give any dogs he has left to me and not give them back till some day who knows when, he’s a poor near worthless kid anyways, who cares if he dies alone, world will be safer if so.” Well, that’s how you have made me feel.

A normal emotionally balanced stable non-worry-wart FAIR person would have pondered what my main concern way, which yes, you did to degrees, though severely distorted it, and i believe did at least send media files to me, BUT OBVIOUSLY I WASN’T GETTING THEM AND YOU ACTING LIKE I’M TEXTING TOO MUCH ALMOST, ALMOST, ALMOST, ALMOST ONLY MADE ME THINK YOU WERE TRYING TO GET RID OF ME TO HOG/STEAL MY CATS at the expense of my life and efforts.

God, damn, how obvious is all the stuff I have repeatedly texted you on? Now however “mean” or unkind you are, WHO CARES, I am obviously stressing over THEEEEEEM, so the logical response from you shouldn’t be, “you’re selfish, stay away from cats, or “you’re talking to much and blowing up my phone, now i’m ignoring you”, but rather the decent, “ok, i’ll email you some”.

And I wanted to be positive, ugh, but you giving me such negative or dismissive waiting-forever-on-a-response replies was pissing me off! I wanted to tell you more about my religion, which duh is on my blog did you not bother to read the story there for you and not notice I’m a harddcore Christian? I wanted you to know, ever since you’ve been acting paranoid of me that I as a “true” Christian (and half-Jew, and no I don’t “care{ what rabbis say is “half jewish”) — that as a true Christian I am FORBIDDEN FROM HATING ANYONE, ESPECIALLY JEWS, ESPECIALLY FELLOW CHRISTIANS, ESPECIALLY FELLOW CHRISTIAN JEWS, ESPECIALLY ONES THAT ARE KIDS. SO, I REALLY HATE THAT YOU IN YOUR MIND AGAINST THE OBVIOUS TURNED A GUY WHO RAISES CATS INTO A SUICIDE BOMBER. It is disgusting you did that! How did you start off so awesome in the begging and now we’re here? Good, great you’re fostering my cats, SORRY FOR ASSUMING YOU HADN’T BEEN KEEPING ME POSTED. AND GOD, PARDON ME DARING TO FEEL NOT HAPPY OVER ALL THIS NONSENSE! It’s as if you believe only YOU are allowed to jump to conclusione and stress out over your cats, not “poor people, cuz, they’re poor!” What the?! Thanks a lot!

And maybe if you had an email or address to give, I’d not have to send 50 messages all amounting to “where’s the pics/cats/how are they God dammit?!” figuratively, and could then you live less stressed out and me too, as I could use modern and old ways to talk, rather than being stuck on your phone and you acting annoyed about it as if it were all my fault.

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