Please Help Bring Them Home!
Please, can you help me. Some people have been spreading nasty rumors and lies about me and now the police have taken my cats based on those false accusations. I don't know who else to go to. You've helped me with these cats before, please can you help me again. I love my cats so much. They've been gone 2 days and I miss them terribly. I don't know where they took them or what they did with them. No one is telling me anything. Please can you help me.
Here's what happened:
There are some feral cats, that have been living in my yard for well over a decade, I've been feeding them and taking care of them.
As I was able to catch them, I took them to the Kennebunk Animal Shelter to have them fixed, had all their shots and stuff, and then brought them back. They've lived in my backyard for their whole lives.
Some of them are almost tame and let people pick them up, others are very skittish and a couple don't like anyone near them, but all of them come for me and I can pick them up.
Because they are nearly impossible to get into a cage or carrier, they've not have vet check up since the time they were fixed. (3 males are not yet fixed.)
Well, I have a motorhome, and because it got really cold this winter, I caught them all and put them in the motorhome so they could be warm and out of the snow. The winter was terrible this year and we had over 5 feet of snow in our yard. And most of January and February was below zero. They would not have survived outside, so I put them in the motorhome to keep them safe.
Well, now that it's warmed up again, I had started leaving the door open and they come out during the day and go back in at night. I lock the door at night and when I'm gone to do errands, because there are coyotes in the woods behind us and I don't want the cats to get hurt.
Well on April 8th a neighbor saw me put the cats in the motorhome before leaving to go to the store, and he called the police and said I was abusing them by keeping them locked up in there.
I didn't know about the complaint until 2 days later, when once again I put the cats inside so they'd be safe while I was gone to go pick up my mother. She had some errands to do and her car isn't running and asked me to pick her up.
Well, I come home a few hours later and find police cars all over the place, in the driveway, up the street, across the road. I think there were 7 of them, And they had torn the back door and wall off of the motorhome and, had these long poles with hooks on then, dragging my cats around and putting them in cages!
They are charging me with abuse and neglect. They say the "camper" was "abandoned on an abandoned lot" and that the cats were starving to death and eating each other because no one was taking care of them.
(It is NOT a camper, this is a fully equipped, self contained motorhome outfitted for Yukon off grid boondocking; she has all tanks on board and requires no outside hook-ups; there is a BIG difference between a camper and a motorhome: No Hurry is fully winterized and her previous owner had customized her for full time off grid winter boondocking in sub-zero regions of Canada - even at temps of -20F outside, the temps inside No Hurry without any heaters stays between 40F to 50F, because of the way she is insulated. This motorhome was built with the intention of living in the Yukon territory full-time, year round, unfortunately, she never made it to Alaska as her previous owner began ill. He died only a few months after selling her to me. Campers are not insulated, require outside hookups to city water and sewer and can not be lived in. NO HURRY IS NOT A CAMPER! SHE IS A FULLY EQUIPPED, FULLY WINTERIZED, HOUSE ON WHEELS - she is better insulated and better winterized then most of the houses in this town. She is so well insulated that she doesn't even require a heater in the winter.)
And they had some bones and was saying it was dead cat skeleton! Last week was Easter! I made the cats a turkey and a ham and bought them some rotisserie chickens from the deli. That's what the bones were. They were still there because they had not finished eating the meat off them yet.
They say that the cat litter boxes hadn't been change. Well, yeah, I had left a few hours before to do errands, so they had had time to do some pooping before I got back.
They said they could smell a strong smell of feces. We live on a farm. The motorhome is parked beside a vegetable garden. In that garden, right beside No Hurry, is a great, big, pile of manure and compost waiting to be tilled into the garden as soon as the snow melts. THAT was what they were smelling!
They said the windows were "blacked out and covered". Blacked out? What the hell are they talking about? No Hurry is a fully equipped HOUSE. Houses have windows. You put curtains on windows. No hurry has curtains on her windows. Let me ask you something? how many windows in YOUR house, DO NOT have curtains on them?
Across the windshield is one of the silver sun deflector screens (on which I wrote the words "NO TRESPASS" because trespassers won't stop stealing our No Trespassing signs off our trees and out of our driveway.) It gets too hot inside, if the windshield screen is not there.
Also EVERY SINGLE WINDOW (8 of them, including both of the side picture windows) was OPEN.
The passenger side picture window, is in line with the full morning sun, and by noon time the temp inside No Hurry reaches about 60/70 in winter and 70/80 in summer. That window has an extra thick insulating curtain (an antique tapestry, made for the purpose over covering a window to keep cold out and heat in, and vise versa), which is dark navy blue (and I assume what they meant when they said "blacked out"?) that prevents the inside temperatures from getting too hot. It also holds the heat in on colder days.
No Hurry is 40 years old and thus has the "side vents" that were standard on cars in those days. No Hurry was a very high end, costume built, (one of a kind) luxury motorhome when she was new, (think about it - she has a FULL SIZE standard house BATH TUB in her. In 1975 you were hard pressed to find a motorhome that included a toilet, let alone a shower; a bathtub was unheard of; this was a top of the line motorhome when she was built) and has "limosine glass" (I'm not sure what it's called. It's a dark smoky colored "shaded" glass, but it's not really the glass thats coloured, it's got some kind of coating over clear glass, because most of it has cracked and flaked off. There are only 2 windows left with any of it still on them, and on those, it's only around the edges. It's nearly entirely gone) in all of the non-opening windows, and the side vents on the front doors. Perhaps that is what they meant when they said "blacked out" windows? I don't know, they did not explain what they meant. But they are not blacked out, because, like I said there are only a few dime sized spots of it around the edges. I don't know, I can't figure out what they mean by "blacked out windows"
When they couldn't think of anything else to say, they said: there is a cage covering one of the vents.
Yes. there are three chicken carriers (wire cages) on the roof. We have pet chickens. if one of the chickens needs to go to the vet, those are the cages they are transported it. They are sitting on the roof of No Hurry, to keep them out of the way. During the Blizzard Juno they kept blowing off. I put them over the vent, because beside the vent is a tie down hook. The cages are tied down to keep them from blowing off and going into the neighbors yard (which is what had happened.) The door of the cage is tied open and face down over the vent, and the vent opens and closes unobstructed as a result. It does not block the vent in any way. I made sure of that when I put it there.
They next complained about the "wooden tables" over the vents.
The "tables" attach to the roof of No Hurry, over the vents, during storms to prevent rain and snow from going in. When parked, I leave them up. They remove and fold come apart to be put in the closet while driving.
These charges are absolutely ridiculous! I've been taken care of these cats like they were my children. I really want to get these cats back. I love these cats, I've been taking care of them for 14 years now.
I'm very upset that they took them, and that they completely destroyed my motorhome, they completely stipped the inside, slashed up EVERYTHING ripped up my bedding and tossed it out into the mud, they tore the back right off of it and I don't have any place to live now. That was my house.
They are all healthy cats (they might have worms, though, they are feral cats and feral cats usually have worms) and well taken care of I don't understand why they are putting abuse charges. I'm very upset about these accusations. I've taken care of these cats for 14 years.
They say I was abusing them because they were in the motorhome. I brought them in so they wouldn't freeze to death. You know how cold this winter was. How is that abuse? I was trying to protect them so they wouldn't get hurt.
Please is there anything you can do to help us get them back?
There are 10 cats, from oldest to youngest:
Georgie, Emily, Mittens, Bela, Cleo, and Fizzgig were all the kittens of Kit-Kit.
Kit-Kit was the original feral cat to show up in my woodshed, she was hit by a car about 4 or 5 years ago - she was 23 years old. 23 years old and she died from being hit by a car, not fro being sick or old. 23 years old, that's how well I take care of these cats. They live to be twice as old as the average life span.
When her kittens were born, I had caught them before they had time to "get wild", Cleo and Fizzgig were both pregnant when I caught them. Kewpie is Fizzgig's kitten and Pippi, Blackie, and Sprout are Cleo's kittens. Technically NONE of these cats were ever truly feral, but rather the kittens of the first feral cat I had caught, which is why they are domesticated. Dog was not a feral cat, his owners moved and left him behind.
The police took: 10 of them, from oldest to youngest:
#1: Georgie: age 14 male, grey tabby (nearly deaf)
#2: Emily: age 14 female, grey tabby (very overweight)
#3: Mittens: age 14 male gray/write maine coon
#4: Bela Lugosi: age 13 female Black Bombay (HUGE cat 20lb-ish)
#5: Dog: age 9 UNFIXED male tuxedo
#6: Fizzgig: age 9 female rusty main coon
#7: Kewpie: age 5 female rusty main coon
#8: Pippi (was born with "Munchkinism" she's really tiny, only about 2lbs, I had her taken to a vet years ago to see why she wasn't growing and they told me this was a rare form of Dwarfism in cats and there was nothing wrong other then she was just a miniature cat - they said most age rapidly and only live about 3 years - she's past that) age 4 female, grey tabby
#9: Blackie: age 4 UNFIXED male Black Bombay
#10: Sprout: age 4 UNFIXED male tuxedo
#11: Cleo is still missing. female age 9 grey tabby
CLEO IS STILL MISSING! The police said she ran into the woods, but I have not seen her yet and it's been 7 days. I am becoming very worried about her. She would have come back by now. I didn't see her run into the woods. I don't know if I believe them. How do I know they didn't kill her and are just saying she ran off? There's no sign of her anywhere. There are NO TRACKS IN THE SNOW! It's been 7 days with no sign of her. I'm starting to think they are lying about her running into the woods.
All of these cats were incredible mousers as well. Our land was a full scale egg farm from the 1800s onward, until the barn was torn down in 2001. From 1983 till today, we have raised chickens as pets. Rats and mice get into the grain and rats kill and eat the chickens. These cats, in addition to being my theorapy cats, and companions, were also very good at keeping the rodent population under control. Especially Cleo, Emily and Bela who are exceptional hunters.
Before I had the cats, rats were a HUGE problem. Since having the cats, the rodents dwindled. Rats multiply fast. A farm can get overrun by thousands of them in a matter of weeks. Without these cats, the chickens once again become at risk of rat attacks. So there's that as well.
EelKat holding feral cat Georgie; with No Hurry and the Dazzling Razzberry; March 2015
Feral Cat Bela Lugosi on the Dazzling Razzberry (told you she was huge - she's covers more then half the width of the hood!) March 27, 2015, just 1 week before she was stolen
Feral cat Bela Lugosi - inside No Hurry - look how big she is! She takes up the whole couch! ; notice the white flokati shag carpet
Feral cats: Emily (front) & Georgie (back) inside No Hurry
Feral cats Pippi and George - inside No Hurry - you can see the difference in size between a normal cat and a "Munchkin Cat"; notice the white flokati shag carpet
Feral cats: Dog, Sprout, and Cleo inside No Hurry ; notice the white flokati shag carpet
People keep calling these cats feral cats.
No! NO! NO! NO! NO!
PLEASE LISTEN TO WHAT I AM SAYING!
These are KITTENS of feral cats!
That is DIFFERENT!
ALL of the cats LIVED INDOORS prior to the bombing of the house in 2006, and again at my dad’s apartment from 2007 to 2011.
They moved into a shed in OOB because my dad’s building changed landlords and the new landlord did not allow cats. My dad has a new landlord, who does allow cats and they were about to move BACK to Biddeford when the police stole them!
They moved into No Hurry during Blizzard Juno, January 2015 to protect them from the -48F weather outside.
THESE CATS HAVE NOT LIVED OUTDOORS SINCE THEY WERE 3 or 4 MONTHS OLD!
THEY ONLY GO OUTDOORS WHEN I AM OUTDOORS.
THEY HAVE NEVER BEEN OUTDOORS BY THEMSELVES OR AT NIGHT! EVER! NOT ONCE IN THEIR ENTIRE LIVES!
THEY HAVE NEVER LIVED OUTDOORS - PERIOD.
They started out as kittens of feral cats, but the kittens themselves were never feral. They have been indoor house cats since they were kittens. They ONLY moved outdoors into the tent with me, because I moved outdoors into the tent because the bomb blew up our house.
Me and the cats lived with my dad in Biddeford when he had an apartment that allowed cats. Me and the cats moved back to OOB when his apartment no longer allowed pets. He has a new apartment that allows pets and we were about to move back in with him when the police took them.
These cat ALL use litter boxes. They are all house trained.
I keep saying and no one is listening: they are KITTENS of feral cats.
The Cleo Fund of Portland took the feral cats.
These are KITTENS OF the feral cats that I tamed.
The police trashed the motorhome. They dumped litter and cat poop all over the beds and couches and sink and stove and counter tops and then took pictures of it that way and said it was like that when they got there. THEY ARE LYING!
It wasn't the way they are showing in the pictures. THEY DID THAT TO THE MOTORHOME THEMSELVES TO SET ME UP.
THE MOTORHOME DID NOT LOOK LIKE THAT BEFORE THE POLICE ARRIVED - THE POLICE DID THAT TO THE MOTORHOME THEMSELVES!
I had a white flokati shag carpet on the floor, the police ruined it with cat poop and litter and then said it was already like that when they arrived!
All of the cats which are fixed (only Dog, Blackie, and Sprout -all males- are not yet fixed) were done by the West Kennebunk Animal Shelter at their Spay & Neuter Clinic. They had their shots (rabies, distemper, etc) at the same time, but have not had shots since then. There are 3 local animals hospitals these cats go to when sick or hurt (depending on day & time).
ALL of the cats are now tame domestic cats. Georgie, Emily, Mittens, and Bela were all living in the house with me at the time of the bomb in 2006, and were rescued from the burning house by firemen. I've had these cats a VERY LONG TIME.
Kit-Kit, Cleo and Fizzgigg moved into the tent with me in 2006 and gave birth to their kittens while living there with me. Thus Kewpie, Pippi, Blackie, and Sprout were also never feral, while Dog was never feral at all.
When I sit down, all of the cats immediately pile up on top of me and sit singing. At night they all sleep on top of me. They act as though they think I'm "just another cat" in their clan. They acts very different around me, then they do around everyone else (except my brother, whom they also are tame for). Around most people these cats are very nervous, scared, and or fierce. I think they are tame with me, because they grew up seeing me wander around the woods and I was always buying turkeys to leave out for them, so I think they got to thinking of me as the "hunter" for the clan. (Plus I'm always wearing that big fur coat, which does make me look less "human" and more "animal", that might have something to do with it as well.)
Our land borders the Powderhorn Campground and the RV park allows pets. A lot of people leave cats behind when they leave at the end of summer. The stray cats end up having kittens and the kittens go on to become feral mom cats with their own feral kittens. The result is that by the mid-1990s there was a HUGE pack of feral cats roaming in the 30 acre forest that buffers between our land and the RV park. I started trying to feed them all in the early 1980s. It was only 4 or 5 cats coming back then. Every time I caught one, I'd take it in to be fixed. Dr. Mckenzie did it, but he's dead now the office is gone.
At one point I had counted 84 different cats (or rather I wrote down their names and someone else counted them.) (I think it was about 1987-ish and the herd grew rapidly during the 1990s)
I used to try to catch the kittens while they were small and easier to tame and I found homes for some that way. It was really getting out of control though and was way more then I could do on my own though. They were multiplying way faster then I could catch them. About 3 or 4 years ago the Cleo Fund took most of the cats. They said they were all fixed and re-released in Portland on the docks and are being fed by the fisherman who clean the fish on the docks and leave the fish scraps for the cats. They said there is a huge rat infestation along the waterfront of Portland, near the docks, and that the cats are helping to keep that under control.
My cats were some of the cats from this large herd of cats that used to roam these woods. I have not seen any more new feral cats since the Cleo Fund took that batch they left with. All of these cats I caught when they were young.
I'm not sure what I have to do to get them back. I wanted to get the 3 unfixed males fixed, but, all 3 of them are not very tame and hard to get in a carrier that's why it had not been done yet.
If it's a matter of getting them their shots and meds and stuff, I'm willing to do that.
They've been getting all their CapStar flea pills every 3 months, that's why they never have fleas.
And I mix food grade diatomaceous earth into their canned food once a month for worms, though I'm not sure how well that works. I think a couple of them might have worms, because sometimes they have runny poop, but that could be from the dairy. I know sometimes some of them have runs after eating dairy products.
I don't understand why they took them or why they smashed up my motorhome, nor do I know where I'm gonna live now, I'm still trying to figure that out - it's totally unlivable now, they tore all the fixtures and couch and stuff out. It's horrible what they did. My dad is letting me stay with him for now, and I asked the landlord and he said we could have the cats in his building, so there's no problem moving them indoors if that's what they are wanting me to do. I don't mind staying with my dad. He has plenty of room, he's got a big 3rd floor apartment. There's no reason me and the feral cats can't all move in with him. (His landlord is an animal guy, he won't take a renter unless they have animals. Everyone in the building has dogs and or cats - one woman has 3 dogs.)
I love these cats and I've never hurt them. I don't understand how they are saying that I have abused or neglected these cats.
We've been 2 days without them now and I miss them terribly and my brother misses them to, he was helping me with them and they come for him as well.
They've broken up our family by taking the cats away. We really want them back and willing to do whatever it takes it get them back, I just don't what they want us to do, I'm still confused as to why they even took them.
Could you please contact the animal control officer and see if there is anything you can do to help us with this? He is Will Watson of Old Orchard Beach Police Department 934-4911
I'm very upset with the smash and trash of the inside of the motorhome. They absolutely ruined my house, it's completely unlivable now. I don't know what I'm gonna do for my book signing tours and conventions and car shows now. I have no place to live while on the road now. Why would someone do something like this? You should see what they did to my nice white flokati shag rug, they dumped all the litter boxes out on the floor and threw catfood everywhere, and then poured the water dishes over it. EVERYWHERE: floors, counters, bed, couch. They just threw it every where on top of everything. You should see what the police did to the couch with a pitch fork! It's absolutely ruined - everything is ruined. Normally I'd be really mad about this level of vandalism to my motorhome, but I'm so upset about the cats, I don't have time to even think about the mess they made.
And you want to know what's worse? They are saying it was like that when they found it. Good god! Who breaks into a motorhome, trashes, and then says it was already like that when they got there?
The complaint (which the police gave me a copy of) was made by the two public works men who were removing garbage from my dad's lot next door. Parts of their complaint was the fact that the cats were, as they falsely ASSUMED, locked inside and not allowed out at all. (Never assume for it makes an ASS out of U and ME). They told the police that the cats were left inside all the time and only had food and water brought in to them once a day and thus were "abandoned" and without proper care.
The fact of the matter is, they jumped to a false conclusion about what they thought they saw.
Yes, on that day, I did, as they described, feed and water the cats and then lock the door. And there was a reason, which had they known, what the reason was, they could easily have understood why this had occurred.
Let me tell you how the cats came to be with me in the first place. I had been feeding the cats every since their mother (who died many years ago) first showed up with the first batch of kittens 14 years ago. I tried for many years to catch the old mother cat to get her fixed, so she would stop having kittens, but she was like a wild tiger and I was never able to get close to her and attacked violently. I was however able to one at a time, eventual capture each of the kittens, take them to be fixed, then returned them too her. Thus how all the cats came to be fixed. The old mother cat was hit by a car 4 or 5 years ago, and no new kittens have shown up since her death.
At that time there were more then 40 cats and kittens, most of which I was unable to catch or tame. The Cleo Fund from Portland, came in and captured the cats, taken about 30 cats with them and I kept the ones which had been living in the tent with me. (I did not buy the motorhome until 2012). The Cleo Fund had them all fixed and the released them on the docks in Portland where they are now cared for by the fishermen who feed them the fish cleaning scraps.
Here is how the cats I have today, came to live in the tent with me in February 2007.
On October 18, 2006, someone build a grease fryer bomb, broke into our house, put it in kitchen on the stove and then left. We were asleep through the break in and did not know it had occurred. The bomb went off at 1AM. George, Emily, Mittens, and Bela were living in the house with me at the time. They (and my dog Buddy - a Cocker Spaniel whom I had for 16 years) were rescued by the fire men, shortly after they rescued me and then went back in for the pets. Everyone people and animals survived.
The firemen stayed most of the night and into the morning. Just before they left, one fireman came up to me, carrying a yellow and brown, melted blob of metal and plastic. One side of it was still standing and it looking like a soup pot shape on the side that was not totally melted. He said:
"This is what started the fire. You must have left the grease fryer on and fly tapes fell off the cieling into it and it exploded."
I said: "But we don't own a grease fryer. I've never seen that before."
He said: "Well this is what started the fire and it was full of fly tapes."
He points out the bits and pieces of fly tapes also melted into the blob.
They took the grease fryer with them, calling it "evidence."
No investigation was ever done and the grease fryer mysteriously vanished.
The House at 144 Portland Ave; Blown up by a grease fryer bomb on October 18, 2006
Tarp Tent - outside view 2007; my home from 2006 to 2015
Inside Tent Tarp 2010 - the walls, ceiling, and floor are made out of my clothes. The bed is made out of a lawn chair seat cover with hay on top of it. I lived here from 2006 to 2015 The OOB Police say this is better then living in a motorhome. They won't let me live in my motorhome. Here is the inside of that. Which looks better, safer, warmer, drier to you?
After the bomb took out our house, I was living in a tent, at 146, on the back side of the hill, at the location, where the Public Works trucks were working this past week (originally the tent could not be seen from the road, but garbage dumped on our land after that, killed the bushes that use to grow on the front side of the hill. I lived there for several years, and the OOB police were aware of this and it is how we came to know Will Watson as he stopped by to check in on us, stating his concern for my safety, while living in a tent during the winter, but also seeing that it was lined with blankets and furs and stayed about 40F inside even while it was below zero outside and admitting that he knew of no shelters that took homeless people with pets, in the area. Will watson was thus well acquainted with the cats in question, or at least, knew of them and knew they were will taken care of.
When I first built the tarp tent, I had originally used a blue tarp. Will Watson was the one who came and said the town had an ordinance against blue tarps, but not brown tarps and suggested I build it out of a brown tarp instead.
About two weeks after the bomb, a group of men wearing suits, carrying clipboards, and having hard hats on their heads arrived and wandered all over the yard. I was sitting about 30 feet from the tarp tent, newly built and now in a brown tarp as Will Watson had suggested. I was cooking a vegetable stew with Bisquick dumplings on a propane powered single burner camp stove.
My cats (which were still very feral at the time), did not yet live in the tent with me, but were sitting in various places around the yard watching me cook, knowing they'd get some too... The blind albino Siamese cat Utopia, lived on my shoulder, as he had done since 1996... He went everywhere with me, that way, he even went to church with me (Tope died of old age in 2010 at age 15). 'Also with me was a grey cheshire cat, Mowgli and a nearly identical kitten. Skeezicks., ante I miquon (This is important, I'm explain in a minute.) George, Emily, Mittens, and Bela were also in the tent with me, as they had previously lived in the house prior to the bomb. (Mowgli, by the way, was a patent at Cats on Call, he had an inoperable brain tumor, and died February 2012 just one week before I bought the motorhome, at age 13.)
The men are as shocked and confused to see me, as I am to see them.. They ask who I am and why I am here. I tell them. Same intro I tell everyone, complete with, we've been here since 1530, I've lived here since 1975 blah, blah, blah.
They become confused and agitated. They explain that Town manager Jim Thomas and Town Hall employee Kathy smith and local plumber Terry Farmer had meet with them and told them the land was abandoned.
I explain it's obviously not abandoned. I'm right here, I always have been, I still am, I'm never not gonna be here, I refuse to move off my ancestral grounds, and there is my tent and there's the remains of my house that was burned down a couple weeks ago.
They apologize, seem to be frightened and now in a hurry to leave. They explain, That Town Manager Jim Thomas had told them HE owned The land and was putting a condominium here, They said they "We're a planning crew to assess the land", and that they say they had Tree cutters and excavations soon coming in to level the land,. They apologized for disturbing me and left practically running. The excavators and tree cutters never arrived.
I don't know who These men were. I never saw them again. If any one reading This knows who these men were and how to get in touch with them, please forward This information % them. I would like them to Testify in court.
A few days later around November 16, 2006 my cats started dropping like flies.. There were two dead kittens in the driveway. More dead cats in the shed. Skeezick was laying by the camp stove screaming and having seizures.
I grabbed Skeezick, and rushed him to Pine Point Animal Hospital, the only vet in the area open at that time of night. She ran lots of tests, the visit cost over $300. When the results came back she told me this:
"I need to test him again. This can't be right, I must have done something wrong."
She doesn't tell me what is wrong but she is in a panic as she draws more blood and checks it again.
She comes back white as a ghost and says these words:
"He's been poisoned. There's more toxins in him than it would take to kill a great dane."
Skeezicks died a few hours later.. She did everything she could to clean the poison out of his system but in the end, there was just too much in him.
This incident was reported to the Old Orchard Beach Police.
THEY NEVER INVESTIGATED It!
Somebody MURDERED my cats and the police DID NOTHING!
Because no officer came to the yard. I drove to the police station. A female officer spoke to me. After I got done explaining what happened, she said:
"Well, cats die, there's nothing I can do about it."
I tell her they were poisoned.
She says: "No, you're making it up."
I show her the vet papers.
She refuses to look at them.
The cats were poisoned. I had a vet that was saying the cats were poisoned. And the Old Orchard Beach Police REFUSED TO INVESTIGATE to find out who had done it!
The following spring. on April 17, 2007 while I was gone to do errands, I returned home that afternoon to find my Liberace records pulverized, Grammy Helen's comic book collection of 10,O00+ platinum age comics from 1920's to 1940's shredded, water poured over them, and mashed into a grey paper-mache-like pulp, Grammy Eva's antique German gold and glass mantel case clock pulverized, my 1920's stamp collection (bound in a red 1920's scrapbook) thousands of stamps collected by Granny Helen when the stamps were new) stolen (This was reported to all the stamp collecting organizations who have it listed as missing and on alert for dealers in case it ever comes up for sale anywhere; however they all said something like this would likely be broken down and sold one stamp at a time - the words "The Twighlight Manor Library" are written in silver rainbow jelly ink on some of it's pages), the garden tiller out of the shed and upside down in the driveway, and all of our pet roosters headless and hanging in the rose bushes - 70+ roosters).
All of this was reported to the police. THAT SAME DAY.
They never came to the lot to see the damage. We called again. Nothing happened.
The next day we went to the station to talk to them in person.
The police said: "Well, wild animals kill chickens"
Do wild animals know how to break a padlock off the barn door and tied knots in the rope that hung them in trees?
THEY NEVER INVESTIGATED!
Whatever happened to start all of this, happened in the summer of 2001, when someone tore a picture of a gun out of a catalog, and hung it on our red front our at 144 Portland Ave.
We called to police and an officer promptly arrived...THIS WAS THE LAST TIME an officer would come to the house when we called 911. Every call after 2001 was ignored and no officer would come to write up a report or investigate ANYTHING.
When he arrived, he looked at the picture of a gun and said: "That's odd, I know this."
He then explained that this was the page out of the supply catalog which the Old Orchard Beach police department used. He called for back up as he said NO CIVILIANS have access to this particular supply catalog. A patrol car and a motorcycle cop arrived moments later. They puzzled over the fact that a gun page from a police department supply catalog was on our door. They said they assumed to be a death threat and asked if we had enemies. No. At the time, we couldn't think of anyone.
They puzzled some more. ONLY a police officer could have done this, they said. But who? And why? They ask if we know any officers that might be mad at us. Nope, good friends with Adam and Chuckie, and my dad it the wrecker driver for you guys, he's the one who tows cars for the OOB police in the summer. My dad had a contract to tow cars for the OOBPD for years and years and years and years. We knew every officer by first name back then, plus my dad was a fireman. We couldn't think of a single officer we didn't get along with.
Then one officer suggested, perhaps the catalog had been left in a patrol car when the car was gone to an auto mechanic.
One officer asked: "Who works on our cars?"
Another said: "Tim Smith has the exclusive contract."
I interrupt to say: "I know Tim Smith, he keeps saying he wants to buy our land. His wife is Kathy Smith, we've been going to the same church for the past 20 years."
The officers write that down on official forms (like they are supposed to do.) They take a statement (something that RARELY happens around here. Usually if I want to make a statement I have to beg an beg and beg and wait in a waiting room, beg yet another officer, wait some more, beg a third officer, and then finally be told, "I'll remember it. I'll write it down later. You can go home now. Ever since 2001 I have a really had time getting an officer to even answer a 911 call, let alone get one to write a statement up, if he does show up at all.)
They puzzle some more and are very clearly upset, not by the fact that there was a gun picture on our door, but rather by the fact that the page had been torn out of their department's supply catalog.
"Someone is sending you a message," one officer said as he puzzled some more. All three of these officers were very upset by this event. They almost looked scared. They were acting like something was really, really, really wrong and you never see officers get upset and scared. They are trained to be tough and hide emotions, but these guys were very, visibly disturbed by this gun photo. they acted as though it meant something and whatever it meant disturbed them a great deal. They were very scared of this slip of paper and I don't know why.
They bagged it as evidence and the original officer, said he'd get back to us in a day or two.
He never contacted us back. We contacted the OOBPD and couldn't get any answers. We kept being told "it's under investigation", "sorry we aren't allowed to discuss the case", and eventually they just stopped answering the phone when we called dispatch.
A week after the gun, our house and mailbox were paintballed. We called the police. The officer arrived and stayed in the road (our driveway is 100 feet long) and just stood there looking up at the house. Finally we realized he wasn't coming to the door and we walked down to the street. He talked about the paintballing, but wrote nothing down. He acted "stiff" and "unnatural" like he was scared to talk to us for fear he's say something he wasn't supposed to say. He left, never having written anything down. This was the first time an officer would do this.
After this point, we had several events, including more paintballing, garden statues smashed, rocks the windows, a long board (4 feet-ish) filled with hundreds of nails, laying nail side up in our driveway (this would be repeated every few months until September 2011)
Once in a while an officer would stop by, look at what he could see, while standing in the road, often as much as 150 feet away from the damage, never set foot in our yard, and never write a thing down on paper; but usually no officer ever arrived at all.
July 2001, perhaps the biggest and most widely broadcasted by reporters event was what newspaper and tv reporters called "The Stolen House"
We had a 5 bedroom modular home being transported from Kennebunkport to Old Orchard Beach. The house movers stopped for the night on Guinea Rd in Biddeford, and suddenly, disappeared, leaving the two halves our house house abandoned in a vacant field. For several weeks we tried to locate the mover, then one day we receive a phone call from someone we knew saying they just saw our house going down the road, in the OTHER direction, heading North instead of South. We drive up to Guinea rd and sure enough, one half of our house is gone.
We call BIDDEFORD police. (Note, we did not call OOB police.) Officers arrive moments later, and one car starts off in the direction the house was last reported going.
Soon there is a high speed cash of cops speeding after the dark blue Morin Moving Truck, an huge house moving truck, which is carrying half of our house on board.
We are told by the officer still on Guinea Rd with us, that the house has now left Biddeford, the cops are still in a high speed chase after it, because the truck was going so fast and heading for the turnpike, the Biddeford police called the State Police to take over. We were told to drive to the nearest state police outpost station and wait for more news.
We took the freeway instead of the turnpike, and soon found ourselves driving behind our house, which had somehow unknown to police, gotten off the turnpike and on the freeway. We followed it, soon driving pass the state police depot where we jumped out and told the desk cop, "There it goes right now, it's just passing the station!" Every car from the station pulls out in hot pursuit of the high speed stolen house. Which at some point got far enough ahead of the police, to turn onto logging road unseen and disappear deep into the Maine woods. The State police searched for days, while the Biddeford police put crime scene ropes around the remaining half on the Guinea Road. a few days later, the second half vanished, and weeks of no news followed.
Law office Verrill & Dana took the case, hired investigators and finally found our house in October 2001, which had had the siding stripped ad resided, and the house put on Lake Arrowhead (where it still sits today). Long time friend of the family Pastor Bernard Elliott of The Arundel Christian Tabernacle, was responsible for the theft of our house. The legal battle went on and on and on. I was bored and confused through most of it and while we won, actually getting the money from the judgement was another matter entirely.
Pastor Hill of the Kennebunk Baptist Church, stepped up to help get Pastor Elliot to pay the money. Unfortunately, Pastor Elliot paid the money to Pastor Hill, who vanished without a trace, taking every penny with him.
This event would result in my first art car, a tiny little pick up mini-sized truck dubbed by the locals as "The Sign Mobile" - Every inch of the truck, had poster boards taped to it, each on announcing what had happened.
I became known as "Xerox" (a character from the Sweet Pickles children's books, who builds signs and puts them everywhere.) as the signs expanded, no longer just on the truck, but also on every tree in our yard, up the flag pole, and for the first time I erected my antique 20'x40' 1950s metal billboard, which had sat for many years in the barn. Crowds began to gather in our yard to take pictures and read the signs. The signs stayed up until late 2003, with me putting up new ones nearly every day, until every inch of our yard was covered in hundreds and hundreds of signs.
The only reason this ever got investigated was because we called the Biddeford police instead of the Old Orchard Beach police.
On multiple occasions (more then a dozen) between 2001 and 2012 items were stolen, including my dad's automotive tools and equipment (he was a mechanic for Marcott Motors), my brothers' gym equipment (including 2 weight benches, several set of barbells, weights, bikes, etc.) (They had a full fledged gym set up.) Many of our garden tools and equipment were stolen.
Every theft was reported the day it happened.
THE POLICE NEVER INVESTIGATED!
On multiple occasions our plants (perennial flowers: bleeding hearts, hosta, day lilies, etc) were dug up and stolen. Until 2010 our land was covered EVERY INCH OF IT with flowers, to the point that hoards of tourists stopped here each year to take pictures of it. In the 1980s when Grammy Helen was still alive, she gave people tours of the flower gardens. By 2013 EVERY SINGLE PLANT (thousands of them) have been stolen.
Every theft was reported the day it happened.
THE POLICE NEVER INVESTIGATED!
NOT ONE OFFICER CAME TO OUR YARD TO EVEN SEE THE DAMAGES!
May 10, 2010 my 1964 Dodge 330 4 door sedan, formor Old Orchard Beach police car, The goldeneagle, billed as the World's Most Haunted car and a local tourist attraction was STOLEN. A rookie officer Robbinson in training arrived minutes after I called. He investigated for 2 days, then said he'd been taken off the case. Another officer (who did not give his name) arrived the following day and said that if I said anything to anyone about the stolen car, the police department was going to charge me with "false report" and take me to court. He said the land was abandoned, the car was abandoned, and he was glad it was gone. A crate-loading truck load of wood pallets (about 700 MORE of them) arrived in our land the following day.
The stripped remains of stolen Goldeneagle, found in a Freeport junkyard.
May 11, 2010, a junk yard in Freefort, who I had often bought parts from for my cars, informed me that he had, what he thought, may have been my missing car. It had been cut up, stripped down, and put in the pile of cars to be crushed. He shut down the car crusher, and waited for us (me and my dad) to arrive. The remains were identified as being my Goldeneagle. I bought it back for the cost of it's weight in metal (to pay him the cost he had paid for the scrap metal load it came in on) and gathered up all it's parts, which were since put in storage at an undisclosed location to prevent farther vandalism of it. I still have it today, it's still in a heap of parts waiting to be reasembled.
The remaines of the vandalized Goldeneagle being delivered back home
700 more wood pallets dumped in the yard
On one occasion we (me and my dad) went to the police station to ask why no one had investigated these thefts. The officer we talked to wrote the complaint down on a Dunkin Donuts napkin which he pulled out of a box D&D box on the table, saying he didn't want to take the time to go to the other room to get the complaint forms, and would fill the forms in later.
THEY NEVER INVESTIGATED!
In the Spring 2014, someone shot bullet holes into the roof of my mom's chicken house. Other locals also had their homes shot, that same day. Officer Jack Nicholas investigated. Town councillor Ken Blow and owner of the Grand Victorian Hotel Tim Swenson were arrested. http://www.necn.com/news/new-england/_NECN__Maine_Authorities__Charges_Likely_for_Hunters_Who_Shot_Near_Old_Orchard_Beach_Home_NECN-247951161.html I was never informed of the end result of this.
This is one of the few VERY RARE occasions where we called the police to report an act of vandalism and an officer actually showed up. He arrived a day after we made the call, and said he only came, because they were investigating other shootings in the area and noticed no one had come to investigate our call of a shooting the same day as the others.
There have been MANY complaints about the cats over the years and in each case Will Watson has come and checked everything out and there has never been any issues. He once stated that the cats were better taken care of then most people are. Will Watson knows how much I love these cats and knows they are treated not as pets but as family members. This is why what has happened baffles me so much, because this man knows how well these cats have been cared for all this time.
Here's how I finally was able to capture the cats: Winter of 2006/2007 was exactly the same as winter 2014/2015. In end of January beginning of February there were 3 blizzards back to back, followed by a deep freeze, which broke the state record and plummeted to -48F, with the wind chill factor in OOB bringing it down to -75F
While the tent has stayed warm enough, before the deep freeze, it was not warm enough during the deep freeze. At that time Maine had exactly 2 homeless shelter, one in Portland that only accepted drunks and drug addicts in rehab and one in Sanford that only accepted unwed teen mothers. There was no place for me to go.
The night of the -48F record breaker, I went to Radley's market to use to pay phone, and called EVERY SINGLE relative, friend, church member I knew and asked: "Could I PLEASE stay the night inside." I was so cold. I called 72 people. 72 people. They all said no. Every one of them. I was alone, sleeping under a tent, with the wind chill factor at -75F, terrified I was going to freeze to death. I stayed up all night, praying "Please send someone who loves me." I woke up the next morning with the feral cats, tucked inside the sleeping bag with me. They've never left my side since.
God gave me those cats and evil men took them away. I never would have survived being homeless all those years, without those cats. They were the only friends I had. People who used to be my friends haven't spoken to me since I became homeless. It's funny how much people change like that.
I did not let the cats out of the motorhome WHILE THE PUBLIC WORKS CREW WAS THERE, precisely BECAUSE the public works crew was there with dump trucks and large tractor equipment. The tent I had previously been living in was set up on the other lot, precisely where the public works trucks were driving in and out.
The cats, upon exiting the motorhome, first thing they do is run straight for where the tent used to sit, and play a game of chase/tag with each other running back and forth between the motorhome and the tent (about 200 feet away), stopping to chase each other up and down trees along the way.
Had I let the cats out while the public works crew was there, they would have run right into the path of the dump truck and tractor equipment, which would have run over them and killed them. The cats would have gotten in the men's way, and/or gotten injured had I let them out while the men were there with the trucks. This is why I did not let them out while the trucks and equipment were on the lot moving stuff. There was a great danger for their safety if I had.
And YES, it was messier than usual inside, because NORMALLY the cats are outside during the day, but the public works had been there 3 days in a row, so that cats were inside during that time so they wouldn't run under the big dump trucks and tractors that were in the yard those 3 days excavating and removing stuff. Most of the time they are pooping in the sand outside, but there was three days of not being outside because of the construction crew and all the big machinery driving around.
A few years ago, one of my cats, Yippie, got hit by a big truck, that drove up in our yard and she got scared and panicked and to run away from it, she ran to the closest hiding place she could find: UNDER the truck and right into the path of it's four foot tall big truck wheels. It killed her instantly. Flattened her. Do you have any idea how HORRIBLE it is to have a cat flattened by a truck like that? Totally flattened, squeezed her insides out. It was horrible. I did not want that to happen again, which is why I was careful not to let the cats get out of the motorhome while the Public Works crew were driving the big trucks and tractors through our yard.
The public works crew left around 4PM at which point the cats went out as usual, returning when it got dark around 6/7PM. This was repeated each of the days the public works crew was there (April 8, & 9). It is because the men left around 4PM each day that they never saw the cats outside, because I waited until they had removed the trucks off the lot for the night before letting the cats out.
The men, not having all the information about the situation, completely jumped to false conclusions about what they ASSUMED they saw.
We've been 4 days without them now... why? Because I was trying to protect them from getting squashed by the big heavy machinery trucks and tractors that were driving around our yard those 3 days. and I miss them terribly and my brother misses them to, he was helping me with them and they come for him as well. And so doesn't Marcy (my chihuahua, who's smaller then all the cats except for Pippi). They had accepted Marcy into the clan and treated her like she was one of the cats.
We've been 2 days without them now and I miss them terribly and my brother misses them to, he was helping me with them and they come for him as well.
They've broken up our family by taking the cats away, based off vicious lies and baseless false accusations. We really want them back and willing to do whatever it takes it get them back, I just don't know what they want us to do.
And you should see what they did to the motorhome. (Not will watson, he was involved in the smash and trash of the motorhome, he was talking to me at the time it happened.)
Why is there a pitchfork in my couch? And why is the wall caddy that hung over the bed, mangled into a mushy mess on the couch which apparently got pitchforked to death. Why are the shelves out of the freezer, and the insulation out of the wall also on the couch? Where is my pink frog couch cover? I can't find it anywhere. And what the hell did they do to the catfood? It's EVERYWHERE! It's on the floor, the couch, the bed, all over the yard outside. What did they do have a food fight with it?
Every cat box is dumped out on the floor, upside down, wet mucky litter everywhere. The rugs are ruined. What did they do pour water in the litter boxes before they dumped them? Good God! What the hell did they do? What is wrong with these people? They totally trashed the place. That pitchfork is supposed to be in the closet. I keep all my garden tools in the closet. Why is it stabbed into the middle of my couch?
They tore off the door, smashed up the wall, smashed my wooden table. You should see the mess.
And there's stuff in here that isn't mine. I've never seen it before. How did it get in here? They added stuff there, after trashing the place and before taking pictures of what they call evidence. What the hell happened? What is going on? Why are they doing this?
Normally I'd be furious about the damage done to No Hurry (well I am furious) but I'm more furious about the cats.
I can't write if I'm not relaxed and I can't relax without my cats.
They traumatized my cats, trashing the place like this and then dragging them out. They looked like they were injuring them. They were not careful at all. Not one bit.
And how am I supposed to write now? I've never written without my cats. Bela sits on my head, George wraps around my shoulders, Emily and Pip sit on my lap, the rest gather all around me. And they sit there singing and singing, all happy and purring and it relaxes me so I stop having my hyperactive heart rate.
I have PTSD, in addition to having Autism. These cats were the only thing keeping me alive.
My heart rate is too fast normally, it stays up over 122 and I start passing out and hyperventilate. Cats sitting on me, my heart rate went back down to 70 where it's supposed to be. How the hell do they expect me to stay alive until the court date, my heart rate just keeps going up and up and up and up if there isn't anything to slow it down. The cats were the only thing that ever worked. They were therapy cats for me.
How do I get help with this? I don't know what to do. I have Autism and am being harassed and have false criminal charges placed against me and I'm very confused about what is going on. Can you help me or possibly forward this to someone who can? Here is the latest thing to have happened:
First they (The Town of Old Orchard Beach, Maine) make me live 9 years under a tarp...even though I have a motorhome that they won't let me live in....
Now they (The Town of Old Orchard Beach Police Department) smash up my motorhome, tear the interior out of it and dump everything into the mud (during the rain) and steal my cats.
I have lived on this property since 1975.
I have never lived anywhere else.
On October 18, 2006 a GREASE FRYER BOMB blew up our house. The Old Orchard Beach Fire Department REMOVED THE YELLOW AND BROWN GREASE FRYER BOMB FROM THE SCENE OF THE CRIME AND CLAIMED THEY LOST IT!
THE OLD ORCHARD BEACH POLICE DEPARTMENT NEVER INVESTIGATED THE BOMBING OF OUR HOUSE!
I have lived up a 8x6' tarp EVER SINCE.
I leave at the same time EVERY DAY.
I come back home at the same time EVERY DAY.
Today, because of the rain, I got back home EARLY.
Here is what I found, when I arrived home (1 hour earlier then is normal for me):
One of the town's unmarked police cars (the white one w/o the damaged hood paint) was parked across the street. I thought nothing of it, as they are OFTEN parked across the street.
As I got closer to the yard, I could see the big police van in the driveway in front of my motorhome. I thought this odd, but not too odd, given that the police are often showing up, and have for over 10 years now.
As I pull into the driveway, I see that the back of my motorhome is torn off and hanging; my first thought was: "Damn! A bear ripped my motorhome apart!" - There are 5 black bear living in the woods behind us. But then, I realize there is a police officer there - in the RV tossing my bedding out the door and into the mud.
My mom jumps out of the car, and goes up to ask what is going on. An officer explained that this was an abandoned lot, the RV was abandoned, and the cats were "starving to death and eating each other" and therefore they were taking them.
Let me repeat myself:
I have lived on this property since 1975.
I have never lived anywhere else.
I still live here.
Until 2006 I lived in a house.
I have lived up a 8x6' tarp ever since a grease fryer bomb blew the house up October 18, 2006.
I leave at the same time EVERY DAY.
I come back home at the same time EVERY DAY.
This land is not abandoned.
The motorhome is not abandoned.
The cats are not abandoned, nor are they starving, nor are they eating each other.
My mom asks if they have a warrant.
HE SAYS YES
and hands her a stack of papers,
(which I did not read until several hours later, after they were long gone: They lied, they DID NOT have a warrant.)
By this time I've tuned the car off, parked, and am getting out, when another police car drives up (it looked like a Saco car, from the color of it, or it could have been one of the older OOB white cars with the blue stripes, I'm not sure.) Behind it, another police car showed up, this one of the regular black&white OOB police cars. This one pulls up behind me, crosswise across the end of the driveway, building a "blockade" now blocking me in the driveway between this police car and the van. Another police car, this one from Scarborough, pulls up in front of that one. Next a game warden in a green pick-up truck pulls up.
The officer that was talking to my mom, now came over and talked to me and said the same thing to me that he had said to her.
I explain to him that the land is NOT abandoned. I STILL LIVE HERE.
The RV is NOT abandoned, it's registered, and insured, it still runs, I drive it, I use it, I move it around the yard all the time, there is nothing wrong with it, I can show you the paperwork.
He did not want to see the paperwork and just put his hand up and said: "Nope, don't want to hear it."
He next says: "Nope, the cats are abandoned they've been cannibalizing, There's dead cats everywhere. I've collected all the bones."
I ask him, what in the hell is he talking about? There are no dead cats anywhere.
He says: "Nope, I got the bones, I have proof."
The "bones" that he had, was a roasted turkey (still in the turkey pan) and a roasted ham (also still in the pan). It was just Easter the other day, and while, I'm an animal rights activist, vegan, who doesn't eat meat: I do cook turkeys and hams for the cats, every single holiday. Always have. I don't have anyone else to celebrate holidays with, my cats are my family, so I cook a turkey for my cats for Thanksgiving and Christmas, and Valentines, and of course Easter, which was just a few days ago, thus why they had the turkey, ham, and cornish game hens (pre-cooked by the deli), seeing how I don't have any other family to cook holiday dinners for.
SIDENOTE: A local woman (who wishes not to be named) called and said a similar event happened to her, and that in her case, they also had chicken bones, and they FALSIFIED evidence and said the medical report came back as cat bones. She said it was the same officers who took my cats last week that did that to her. I don't know if what she says is true or not, but that's what she said they did to her.
So, he's collecting up blatantly obvious chicken, turkey, and ham bones, and saying he's collecting up dead cat skeletons.
I'm still saying, but that's turkey, you can see it's a turkey, it was just Easter...
Then he says: "Nope, the cats are starving to death, they aren't feed, the boxes aren't changed, they have no water."
I buy 36lbs of catfood every week, in addition to the turkey, chicken, pot roasts, hams, fish, cheese, yogurt, etc. Those cats eat like kings.
I only eat one or two meals a week. I AM starving to death, but the cats have NEVER gone without food. I've always put them first.
I buy 4 tidy cat 20lb tubs of cat litter a week. I have 9 cat boxes under the bed. I change the boxes every morning and every night. There was poop currently in the boxes, because it was one o'clock in the afternoon and the cats pooped during the day, while I was gone.
There are three water dished, that hold a gallon of water each and I dump them, wash them, and fill them twice a day.
The REASON I was not home, is because, the town shut our water off in 2006 after the bomb. They disconnected the pipe from the lot and I don't the $20,000 it costs to pay the water company to put a new pipe in. The town (Kathy Smith speaking for Town Manager Jim Thomas) claimed since there was no house there was no need for water. I have to leave AT THE SAME TIME EVERY DAY to drive all the way to Biddeford, to go to my dad's apartment, to fill water jugs, to drive all the way back to OOB so that me and the cats have access to water. I have done that EVERY DAY SINCE October 2006. This is HOW they KNEW what time I would be gone.
This is a small town. Fewer then 8,000 people. EVERYONE knows me and my routine, and they ALL know my car. And to get from my yard to Biddeford: I HAVE TO DRIVE PASS THE POLICE STATION. And you can't miss my car. It has 2 million marbles glued to it.
He said: "It's not okay for cats to live like this."
I said: But it's okay for me to live under a tarp for 9 years, through endless blizzards?"
"I DON'T CARE ABOUT THAT. IT'S NOT IMPORTANT."
Oh, yes. I KNOW I'm not seen as important. This is NOT the first time an OOB police officer has made a statement like this. Several officers have made several statements like this over the past 9 years. I'm used to police officers telling me that my life is worthless and unimportant, that it doesn't matter that in 2007 when temps broke a record reaching -48F that I was living under that tarp. (In fact, that was the VERY NIGHT that the feral cats moved in with me. My tarp was the only shelter from the cold. I've been taking care of those cats ever since.)
The cats are outside, loose in the yard with me during the day, and inside the motorhome warm and dry at night and any time I have to leave.
There are 5 black bear, 12 coyotes, and 4 foxes living in the woods behind our land. I put the cats in the motorhome at night, and for the 2 hours I'm gone on a water run to get our daily supply of water, to protect them from the bear, coyotes, and foxes.
The cats are warm and dry and out of the weather at night when they sleep: i AM NOT. I sleep under a tarp at night, rain or snow. It's always rain or snow, it's rarely dry weather here. The few night without rain or snow have fog that drenches you wetter then the rain does. I haven't had a warm dry place to sleep in 9 years. And the police officers of Old Orchard Beach, are ALWAYS quick to say: "I don't care."
Officer Will Watson, has 9 cats in the van. He asks me how many cats there are. I explain I have Autism (as best as I can, seeing how I can barely speak, due to my Autism) and can't count or do numbers or math. I say, "I think there might be 13 or maybe 12. I don't know. I have Autism. I can't count. I call them by name. I don't know how to do numbers stuff."
So he asks me to identify the cats and I write their names, ages, type/colour on slips of paper, attaching them to the proper cages.
He asks again: "Are there any missing?"
I say: "Yes."
He tells the Scarborough officer (who never gave me his name) to go back in the motorhome. At this point three (3) officers went into the motorhome and began tearing out the beds, seats, panelling of the walls, curtains, and shelves (attached the the walls) out of the motorhome and smashing them into the mud. Even the light fixtures and light switches were pulled off the walls. They completely and totally trashed the inside of my motorhome. There is absolutely nothing left. It is now unlivable and damaged beyond reasonable repair. (To fix the damages to the interior will cost well over $10,000, the entire interior now needs to be rebuilt.)
This is what the inside of my motorhome REALLY looked like before they trashed it, planted false evidence, and destroyed it to make it look like hell:
Let me point out something about The lock on That door: It doesn't lock. It never did.
WHY did they rip the lock off the door, of a door with a broken lock that wasn't locked to begin with?!?
That was absolutely UNNECESSARY vandalism done just for the sake of doing damage.
I bought No Hurry on February 21, 2012.
On February 22, 12012, I took No Hurry to a locksmith at hardware. He told me, that the tumblers were broken but, said if you shake the door while the key is in it a couple of them fall into place so that the door appears to be locked, even though it is not. A light tug and you'd think it was locked, but pull hard enough to actually open the door and the tumblers give way and the door opens.
While tt requires a key (any key will work) to shake the tumblers enough to make it look locked, it does not require a key to open the door.
The locksmith said ''It's probably not worth it to fix it. A good lock only keeps honest people out. A thief will get past any lock god or bad if they really want to get through that door."
And thus I never had the lock fixed. And so I have to ask:
Why did they do this to the door? There was absolutely no reason to rip the lock off of a door that doesn't even lock to begin with!
Did you notice the sign on the door which says to remove shoes? It's because there is a WHITE flokati shag carpet on the floor. I so not allow muddy shoes to walk on it. It's really hard to clean flokati. Next to impossible. You saw it in the photos back a bit, right? Do you want to see what the police did to my white flokati carpet?
It appears that they took the cats water dishes, dumped them in the cat boxes to make a muck, then dumped the catfood dishes in it too, and then, dumped the litter boxes upside down onto the carpet, and them stomped back and forth into it to grind it in as much as possible.
Can anyone say SPITE?
What kind of a person does that!
I don't think the carpets are salvageable at all. The flokati is absolutely destroyed.
This is the after. Look what they did to it! Look what they did to my home! What kind of a monster does something like this to another human being? I am an author. And an art car builder. I go on book signing tours and car shows. I live in the motorhome while I'm on tour. Where am I supposed to live now? I use this for my writing office. Where am I supposed to write now? I am sick and in poor health I have to take frequent naps during the day. I take naps and sleep here during the day. Where am I supposed to do that now? They treated my motorhome like garbage. They smashed her up like she was some piece of trash. They had no respect for my property. They thought nothing of utterly destroying it. It is registered and insured and I use it. I drive it all the time. They know this, they see me drive it around town. It is a show car. And a famous one. This is "No Hurry", she spent most of her life being a rally car for a race car team. I bought her from the race team when they retired. I'm her second owner. She's got a Hemi race car engine in her. The engine alone is worth more than $10,000. This is a 1975 Dodge F40 Sportsman 22' Class C Motorhome. And she was a show car, and my home while on tour, and in near perfect condition. She only has 68,000 miles on her. Do you have any idea how rare this vehicle is? Or how expensive it is to buy parts for? It's going to cost me tens of thousands of dollars to repair the damages. How can I take her to shows now, like this? Look at what they did! They are cruel and hateful people to do something like this.
Why is there a pitch fork in my couch? Where is the pink cover of my couch? I haven't found that yet. Did they steal that too? That smashed up vase, that in the windo my the sink, and used to have silk flowers in it. Can't find them either. Those small metal sheets are pieces of the inside of the freezer. The insulation paneling, is also on the couch, for who knows why.
That cat carrier is not mine. I've never seen it before. They planted that while they were trashing the place.
That jumbled up mess beside it, that until yesterday, was a hanging cubby/shelf with pockets to hold shampoo and stuff. It was hanging over the back of the co-pilots seat. The cat food is dumped out and THROWN from one end of the motorhome to the next, it looks like they had a damned food fight with it.
The cat litter boxes are full of wet muck. WET. It looks like they poured water in them and them dumped them out. They destroyed my white shag carpet, which they tore up off the floor and stamped into the spring thaw mud outside. They ripped all my curtains up. Just shredded them. Tore them in two. They slashed open my bench chair cushions, ripped the vinyl covers off and tore up the foam inner then tossed that out in the mud too. They smashed my wooden table.
The cats had a play house "nest" structure that I built for them, that was set up on the bed and had a wooden tree-ramp up to a second story in the overcab - they smashed that up too. They took the cats' sleeping bag and stomped that into the mud too.
I had an antique handmade, Persian tapestry, that belong to my grandmother, it was over a hundred years and it's worth thousands of dollars. It's a one of a kind, hand knotted, "Persian rug", it's HUGE, about 6 feet long and 4 feet tall, has the picture of a galley boat and pyramids on it. I had it hanging over the picture window to keep the drafts out during the winter (that is a tapestry's purpose, back when it was made people didn't have glass panes in windows, and hung tapestries to keep out cold). I had the back of it pinned up under the bottom of the window, to create a hammock. In the morning when the sun was on that window, all the cats would climb up inside the "hammock" and sun themselves in the picture window. That's why I put it there, so the cats could do that. These ruthless, bully men tore it off the wall, damaging both the wall and the the tapestry, tore a hole in it and tossed it in the mud too. It's one of a kind antique and irreplaceable. And it belonged to my grandmother. They have no respect.
What kind of a hate filled, immoral person, stoops so low, that they'd do something like this?
Never mind the motorhome, you should see what they did to my cats. It's like 9-11, when the terrorists destroyed the Pentagon and that would have been the big news, but it quickly got pushed aside by the Twin Towers, because that was worse news? It's like that. Destroying No Hurry was like the Pentagon, it was big news and it was bad, but it has to get pushed aside, because the other news is worse.
These men are terrorist, just the 9-11. They destroyed our home and terrorized my family, traumatized my cats, traumatized me.
They were dragging them around on poles with hooks. Laughing while they screamed in terror and pain. They traumatized my cats. Those evil, terrorist men, tortured, abused, and traumatized my cats. What kind of evil men treats a cat so deplorably?
While the two men in the motorhome continue to smash up in insides and toss them out the back door into the mud, Will watson continues to interrogate me.
He continues to ask me "How many cats are there?"
I continue to say: "I have Autism. I can't count. I don't know."
He says: "Are there more cats then the 9 in the truck?"
I said: "Yes."
He said: "How many more?"
I said: "I don't know. I have Autism. I can't count."
Him: "How many more are in the camper?"
Me: "That is not a camper, that is a motorhome. They are not the same things."
Him: "How many cats are inside?"
Me: "I don't know, you got the door open. I open the door to let the cats go out. When the door opens they go out. I wasn't here when you opened it up. I don't know how many you let out. No one is supposed to open the doors while I'm not here, they are feral cats, they are scared of people. Me and my brother are the only two people they will come for. They trust us. They run from everybody else. They go back to the woods. It takes days or weeks to get them back if someone scares them."
He asks me the same question, reworded every way he can think of, again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again...
It is very frustrating for me, because I HATE repeating myself and he's making me repeat myself again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again...
"I don't know. I have Autism, I can't do math."
"I don't know. I have Autism, I can't count."
"I don't know. I have Autism, I can't do numbers."
"I don't know. I have Autism, I go by names not numbers."
He just absolutely was not listening to me and just kept making me repeat myself again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again...
Finally he says to me, that he had another cat in a box, (which he had hidden out behind my motorhome), but that he had not brought in the truck yet, and a second cat had escaped and ran into the woods, and he'd been questioning me because he wanted to see if I'd lie to him about there being two more cats than he had in the van.
Then he hands me paper and says I have to sign and date them. And I ask him what the date is. I have Autism, I can't do numbers or calendars or any kind of math. I ask him what the date is and he just starts spouting number at me. And telling me over and over again to sign and I'm trying to remember what the numbers look like so I can.
I am Autism. Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to understand things under normal conditions and how much harder it is when people are screaming at me and smashing my home and torturing my cats?
At this point most of the police cars leave and Will Watson explains he has to take the cats to a vet to be checked out, asks me to move my car so he can leave with the cats. I back the Razzberry back out, and one officer, runs over and stands there ready to pull his gun out, like he's expecting me to run over him or ram his car or ram the van. Once the van is out into the road, he relaxes out of his gun ready position and starts directing traffic so the van can get all the way out.
Will Watson leaves with the van and the other officers stand around looking at each other for a few seconds, then get into their cars and leave.
I pull back into the driveway and I'm just sitting in my car for, I don't know how long, while I try to wrap my brain around, what in the heck just happened.
This occurred around 1PM in the afternoon. It was around 3PM when the officers left.
They had been about to leave when we drove up. They had waited until they knew I was not home, broke into the motorhome, and acted fast to capture the cats, but they were unable to leave because my car had driven up behind them. I NORMALLY would not have gotten back home before 2PM. Had I gotten home at my NORMAL time, they would have already been gone. Like I said, it was raining (pouring with thunder and lightning, several times off and on throughout the day) and thus I had come home earlier than expected.
I sat in the yard in a snowbank for a long time. A couple of hours, I think. It was not until around 8PM (after dark) that I pulled out a flashlight and started reading the paperwork, which they had handed to my mom, when she had asked if they had a warrant. It was NOT a warrant.
THEY DID NOT HAVE A WARRANT!
THEY DID NOT HAVE A WARRANT!
THEY DID NOT HAVE A WARRANT!
What they had was an Ex Parte Order.
An Ex Part Order, for those who don't know, is a temporary order for an emergency request for temporary custody.
IT REQUIRES A DILIGENT ATTEMPT TO CONTACT THE OTHER PARTY (in this case me).
NO ATTEMPT TO CONTACT ME WAS MADE.
Oh...but it gets worse...the paper says, and I quote:
There is a clear danger that if the Owner is notified in advance of the issuance of an order, the Owner may remove the Animals from the state, conceal them, or otherwise make them unavailable. Unless an ex part order issues allowing the Applicant to take possession of the Animals, the Animals will die, their condition will be substantially impaired or worsened or medical attention will be necessary to restore the Animals to a normal healthy condition. An Ex Parte Order for possession of the animal(s), pursuant 17 M.R.S.A | 1021(4) is necessary because there is a reasonably likelihood that the owner/defendant is not subject to the jurisdiction of the court for purposes of a hearing because he/she cannot be found by reasonable diligence; or he/she is a resident of the State of Maine but currently out of state. There is a danger that unless immediate action is taken the condition of an injured, overworked, tormented, tortured, abandoned, poisoned, or mutilated animal, animal deprived of necessary sustenance, necessary medical attention, proper shelter or protection from the weather or humanely clean conditions will be substantially impaired or worsened or the animal's life will be jeopardized or a great degree of medical attention will be necessary to restore the animal to normal healthy condition or there is a clear danger that Wendy Allen if notified in advance of an issuance of an order of the Court for possession of the animal pursuant to 17 M.R.S.A. | 1201(3), may remove animal from the State of Maine, conceal animal or otherwise make it unavailable. The gray and black cat with a white chest and long hair as seen in the attached picture is being deprived of necessary sustenance, necessary medical attention, proper shelter or protection from the weather or humanely clean conditions and unless and Ex Parts Order issue allowing the applicant to take possession of the animal, the animal will die, it's condition will be substantially impaired or worsened or medical attention will be necessary to restore animal to normal condition. No loss will result from the Town of Old Orchard Beach taking possession of and providing for the animal(s) pending a hearing in this matter, therefore no security should be required.
What a load of libelous lies that is! I don't even know where to begin.
It states they don't know how to contact me, and yet Will Watson is a casual friend of the family and has all our contact info and has often stopped by "just to talk" several times over the past 10 years.
He's the damned officer who checks in on us to make sure no one is sleeping in the motorhome at night, thus why I have to sleep under the tarp, for crying out loud.
I've never lived anywhere else. I've never left the state. I have no where else to go. Where would I go? Where the hell do they think I'm supposed to go? And where exactly am I supposed to hide the cats from them? What in the hell are they talking about?
Everyone in this town knows me and knows the feud that is currently raging between my dad and the town hall right now, and they know that the ONLY reason there is any peace between the clan and the town right now is the fact that I've been mediating between the clansmen and the town hall.
Because of the feud, there are currently tractors and dump trucks, leveling the land, pulling up trees, they took three damned feet of top soil out of here. How the hell do they expect us to grow our crops now that they've obliterated the place.
Why are they here? Because vandals dumped 3,000 wood pallets, 57 tires, and 14,000 pounds of actually garbage in our yard, which the town is fining us and making us pay for the clean up costs, regardless of who dumped it on our land!
THE HARASSMENT DOESN'T STOP!
In 2013 the Town drove a bulldozer over my grandmother's house.
photo July 2013
photo August 9, 2013
In 2001 that exact same bulldozer drove over our barn, which is why the egg farm got shut down, ending our income.
Do you know what the REALLY STUPID thing of all this is? They could have just come over while I was home and ASKED me why the cats were in the motorhome and I could have told them, that there are some feral cats, that have been living in my yard for well over a decade, I've been feeding them and taking care of them.
I could have told them why the cats weren't outside that day the Public Works crew was there. They could have asked me and I could have told them. But instead they run around lying about me and claiming I had abandoned them when I hadn't and Will Watson knew that.
These men are crude monsters. Look at what they did to our motorhome! Look at how deploribly they treated my cats! They don't care about my health. They don't care about my cats. No one does. All they want to do is make trouble and spread nasty rumors and lies, and defam my good name and reputation, because they don't like the race I was born as. So what if I'm a Gypsy? That doesn't make me any less deserving of basic Human Rights! My cats were the only ones who care about me. I don't have anyone else. I'm alone all day, except for when my mother and brother come visit, the cats are the only ones I have to talk to, and now they're gone and I have no one.
I don't even have a place to sit down and write any more. All I can do right now is sit in a cold snow bank because they trashed my motorhome. Look at what they did to my motorhome! The table is smashed. The couch is trashed. The benches are broken. The foam bench seat covers are slashed and ripped to shreds all over the yard, now I have to clean that up. There's a freaking pitch fork stabbed into my couch. That was in the closet. I had my garden tools in the closet.
There is no place to sit. Not one place. The rugs are gone, my nice white shag flokati rugs, they're mashed into the spring thaw mud outside. all the curtains are ripped off the windows and torn in half. The screen door is pulled off and slashed. And what does that matter, there's no door at all. Look at it! Look at the door! How am I supposed to lock up the motorhome now?
Look at the before and after pictures. Look at what my motorhome looked like before they came, inside and out, and after they left.
What is wrong with these people? Why are they doing this to us? I don't understand any of this.
Do you have any idea how traumatized my cats were? They had these long poles with hooks on them, loops around their necks, dragging them across the yard while they howled and screamed in terror. You should have heard them in the van. Screaming at the top of their lungs terrified. In cages. They put my cats in cages. I hate cages. They've never been in a cage before. That's torture. They are feral cats, they had the whole forest, the whole garden. They were only in the motorhome at night or when I had to go run errands. They were in there to protect them from the bear and fisher and coyotes and foxes.
The motorhome was my writing office. I stayed I there 6 to 8 hours every day, set up with my digi-memo writing. That's where I write books? Where am I supposed to write now? And how am I supposed to write without my cats? I've never not had cats. I've always had cats. Why do you think my grandmother called me EelKat when I was 3 years old? Feral cats came running out of the woods to play me. No one else could get near them. It's been like that for 40 years.
You should have seen poor Emily. She was laying floor of the cage screaming, she looked like she was going into a seizure. She's 14 years old. Poor Dog, he wasn't even moving. He was just laying there like he was dead. He was so scared out of his mind, he couldn't even move.
I hate the men who did this to my cats. They are evil men. They don't care about my cats. They're just looking for one more way to hurt me and don't care what it does to my cats.
We are Gypsies. Those are Gypsy cats. Family is important to Gypsies. Those cats are my family. They broke up our family. I'm always sleeping outside on the hill in the grass (and in the snow, I don't mind the snow) and my cats would all gather in a pile on top of me. We'd all sleep together, on my big fur coat. My Unicorn coat, the one from the opera? It's over a 100 years old, and very strange looking, but it opens up into a big giant square, and I'd take all the pillows and build like a round bird nest shape out of them and put the fur coat, fur side up over that, and then, me and the cats would sleep in it.
Now I sleep alone.
Or rather I don't sleep at all. I have night terrors (Autism and PTSD at the same time is horrible.) Ever since I've had the cats, the night terrors went away. I looked it up and Doctors online say that when an Autistic or PTS patient has night terrors, they have them sleep under a weighted blanket and the the pressure of the weight causes them to feel like they are being hugged and they relax and sleep. The night terrors go away.
It used to be really bad. The night terrors. But then the cats found me under the tarp and moved in with me, and they sleep on top of me, and the night terrors went away.
Now they're back. The cats are gone and the night terrors have returned, I'm fast nearing 48 hours since I last had speel. The longest I ever went without sleep was 5 days, that's how bad the night terrors get. I had forgotten what it was like to have night terrors, it's been so long since they went away. I can't sleep without my cats.
They separated Blackie and Sprout. They're brothers. They've never been apart. NEVER. They stay together ALL THE TIME. They had Blackie in the front compartment and Sprout in the back. I told them, they needed to be together. I asked them to put them together and they wouldn't do it. They are mean, cruel, hateful people. They separated Pip and Mittens too. They always stay together.
And Fizzgig and Kewpie, mother and daughter, always together, they separated them too. And my poor Bela, my giant 20 lb Black Bombay - I've never seen her scared before. She's always so happy and confident, and she was laying howling, terrified. And Georgie, my oldest, I've had him since he was a kitten. He wasn't feral.
They are traumatizing my cats. They put them in cages and separated them from each other. They put them in cages, cat that had an entire forest to play in, trapped in tiny cages. That is horrible.
We are Gypsies, we hate being trapped inside. We love the open freedom of outside. We find it very difficult to be indoors at all. People/locals have often described me and my people as "feral" they say we live like the feral cats that follow me, because we live in the woods and rarely live in houses. People have a hard time understanding Gypsy culture. But we hate to be locked away separate from Nature. And we hate being alone or separated from family.
That is why I know how scared and confused and traumatized they must be right now, locked in cages, separated and alone. Understand how that feels, because I am a Gypsy and I know what it is to be close to nature and love freedom and family.
I think that is why the feral cats have always felt safe with me. I have the same untame wild spirit they do. They are afraid of everyone else, but they act as though I am one of them. They do not act like I am a human, they act like I'm just another cat. It's very strange to see the vast difference in these cats when they are with me, to when they around other people.
And I still can't find Cleo. They said she ran out into the woods. I looked all day and all night and all day, calling her and calling her. She's Pip's, Blackie's, and Sprout's mother. She's never been separated from them before. They'll be missing each other. She must be so scared. Big mean, bully strangers coming in and tearing her home apart and kidnapping her family. There's 30 acres of forest out there and a lot of swamp and quicksand and hundreds of acres of motorhomes and trailers on the other side. Second largest RV park in the town borders our land. And the snow has mostly melted now, so finding tracks out there in the pine needles is next to impossible this time of year. I can't find her anywhere.
Home wreckers. That's what they are. Evil homewreckers sent here by Satan to steal and destroy, like a thief in the night. It was evil men who did this to us. They broke up our family.
The doctors said last December, when I was hospitalized by the shock of Town taking our land, that my heart needed to relax. He was just some random ER doctor, didn't know me or my history, but he said: "I can tell you have too much stress in your life. You need to get away from the stress. Find a way to relax or you won't live to see another year." He didn't know the OOB took the land. I didn't tell them. My brother took care of the cats while I was in the hospital. They are with him the same way they are with me. He too has the untamed spirit and love of nature I have and they can sense that so they trust him as they trust me.
Sometimes I think maybe it's just time to say: I give up. The bullies win. I'm not physically strong enough to fight for my rights any more. And I don't have anyone to fight with me or for me. I have Chronic Tendonitis in my arms, my wrist, my legs, and my back. You have no idea how much I hurt. Every move I make, stretches my muscles and makes them hurt. I can barely walk any more. It's very hard for me to type now.
I am an author. I sit down down to write every day, and I end up sitting there for hours writing nothing, just close my eyes and listen to the cats purring, for 6 or 7 hours a day, all day, every day. Because the chronic tendonitis has gotten so bad, that my hand locks up, like it's paralyzed, and I can't even pick up a pen. The doctors say it's because I've been exposed to to the extreme cold, with no protection from the weather, for so many years now. I'm aging faster then I should, because I've been homeless for 9 years.
I used to walk 13 miles every day. The whole leangth of the beach and back.I can barely make it down to the end of my 175' long driveway now. I used to be able to bench press 78lbs, now I'm on doctor's orders not to lift more then 20lb. People see me with the cane, but they don't see the back brace or the arm braces, or that I often have my legs wrapped in bandages, and some days, not even the cane is enough. I got a pair of crutches for those days. I don't talk about it, so no one knows, how much every move I make hurts, and how most days, the only thing I do, is lay on the grass, with a mountain of cats piled on my back purring to me.
My cats are what keep me going. Life has been so hard since the bomb, with all the vandalism and harassment, on top my health. It's hard to not want to kill myself and just say I'm done. I don't want to die, I just want the pain to and hate crime to go away. My cats are what kept me going through all this. And now they've taken them away.
The cats were the only thing keeping me going, these past 9 years since the bomb took my house and left me homeless. They were all I had left to live for. Now I have nothing.
And not even my motorhome to sit in.
The Town of Old Orchard Beach has now taken everything.
Losing the house to a hate crime bomb was hard, but we are Gypsies, we are used to such hate crimes against us. We learn to turn the other cheek and continue on with life.
I barely tolerated them taking my land. Land my family has lived on since 1530. My people, the Scottish Gypsies, we were marooned here by the British, in 1530, because of our race. And we've lived on this ever since. We've never moved. Never left this spot. Generations of my family have farmed this land.
They smashed up my motorhome, leaving me homeless once again. This is the 4th time the Town has done this. We had a house again, and on August 8, 2013, the town's bulldozer "accidently" ran over it and flattened it. I am very thankful the cats were not in the building at the time.
We used to have and egg farm here since the 1800s. Hundreds and hundreds of chickens. In 2001, that same town bulldozer "accidently" ran over that building too.
The town has been harassing us for a long time.
The Public Works crew was here this week, because for the past several years, people have been trespassing on our land and dumping garbage. One time a 18 wheel crate loader truck dumped wood pallets. I counted them - there were 3,000 of them piled up like an eyesore, right on top of my vegetable garden. Three freaking thousand of them. It was more then one truck. It was truck after truck. We had no crops that year or any year since. The wood pallets were only just finally removed this past month.
We had hoped we could go back to life as normal. We planned to build a house there and start farming again, and in the middle of those happy, hopeful plans, they return yet again and take my cats. It is for them that I had planned to build the house. Without the cats I have no need to build a house. I am a Gypsy, I don't need a house, but I wanted a house for the cats. I was designing a house, a 25'x23' two-storey chalet, that I designed specifically for the cats to have wide open space to roam indoors safe from winter and rain and predators. They are my family, I wanted them to have a house and now they have taken them.
Please is there anything you can do to help me get my cats back. You know me, you know I don't abuse animals. You know that what they are saying is a lie and nothing but wild exaggerations to make me look like something I am not.
The Officer was right, I'm not important to anyone. No one cares about me. It didn't matter that I was homeless, going way too many days in row between meals, spending my winters freezing cold living under a tarp, with no medical insurance and very ill health. But who cares, right?
As the Officer said while they were strangling my cats with those hooks on poles: "I don't care about that. It's not important." Oh, yeah, I know, my not being important to anyone is why I was homeless so long, with only my cats to inspire me to wake up each day.
My cats loved me and I loved them. They were the only ones who cared about me. They were the only ones who spent time with me. All day, every day. And now I'm alone. Just alone. Sad and alone. No cats to keep me company. No motorhome to sit and write in and no land to park the motorhome on anymore.
Why is the Town of Old Orchard Beach harassing me? I don't understand any of this. So many strangers keeping coming in here and invading and terrorizing, and I just want people to leave me alone. If they can't be nice to me, just leave me alone.
A lot of people don't even know anyone lives here. That's how quiet and none disturbing of the peace I am.
Before the bomb, no one ever came up in here. But ever since the bomb, it's been a steady line of people dumping garbage on our land or vandalising stuff or raising hell for us. Why can't they leave us alone? We never bother anybody, why are they bothering us?
If you can't bring love, then why bring hate? Why are there so many evil people, who think it's fun and games to hurt others?
They have been harassing us for years because we are by race Gypsies and we are a peaceful people, we don't fight back, so they think they can get away with doing one thing after another, because they have gotten away with it for so many years.
I stood back in silence when they took first one house after another.
But I will not stand back in silence while they break up my family and terrorize my cats. This is nothing short of terrorism. The damages to my motorhome are way beyound incredibly unbelievable.
Ask at Mac's Garage, what we were doing on January 25 during Blizzard Juno? We were out there, me and my brother and my mom, shoveling the show, during the blizzard, so that we could keep the paths open for the cats. She knew, because she saw us out there and stopped to help us. She brought her truck over and helped plow the land out.
I love my cats so much, I would never hurt them. Please help me get them back. I don't know what to do. I don't know how to get them back.
I have no income and because I have Autism I am not eligible for disability, food stamps, TANF, welfare, medical insurance (including FreeCare which I'm also denied). I don't know what to do. My income from writing only brings in $20 to $200 a month. I have no way to hire a lawyer and I don't understand all the paperwork the police have given me. I don't know who to turn to for help. I don't know if you can help me or not.
I have been denied MaineCare too. I have applied for ALL applications DHS had. I was denied on EVERYTHING.
I know why they trashed my motorhome. There is a feud going on between my dad and the town hall. My dad started it. I want no part of it.
READ THIS: http://www.eelkat.com/ READ IT! PLEASE! PLEASE! You don't know what's going on, what has already happened, unless you read it. It's more then the cats. It's a lot more then the cats.
My dad is fighting with the town. I don't want to be dragged into it. I've been trying to stay out of it. It's a huge mess. Please you don't understand what is going on, unless you read this: http://www.eelkat.com/ Please read it. PLEASE.
When I say feud, I MEAN FEUD: as in shoot outs and gunfights. In the 1970s and 1980s there were always shoot outs going down on our land. Our land was an actual battle zone with people shooting at each other. My dad doesn't know how to stop fighting. He fights with everybody. And he won't stop fighting with the town. They took the land April 2, 2015, to try to force him out of Old orchard Beach. They are going to let me buy it back, IF I don't allow him back on the property.
On April 8, 2015, the public works crew came to level the land, so I could buy it back on April 12. They took the cats on April 10. The town manager promised I could by the land back. I have it in writing. He signed papers saying it. They lied and then they took my cats too, and then destroyed my home as well.
I have no choice but to stay with my dad in Biddeford now, but I didn't want to, because he's the one who started this fight to begin with. I don't even know why. I was maybe 3 years old when this whole started. I don't know what started it. I never did. I just know I want no part of it and have stayed out of it all these years. Until they took the land. I only got involved so that I could buy the land back so me and my cats could continue living here, and they took my cats because of this. They destroyed my motorhome so that they could take pictures and say it already looked like that before they arrived....THAT IS WHAT THEY TOLD ME! They said it was like that when they arrived! But it wasn't like that. They set me up. They took my cats, citing the photos of the motorhome AFTER the vandalism as being the reason they took them.
My motorhome DID NOT look like what it shows in their evidence pictures UNTIL AFTER they vandalised it! They are lying about what my motorhome looked like inside. I have pictures of what it ACTUALLY looked like inside BEFORE they came and trashed it.
They took my cats to try to stop me from buying back the land.
PLEASE read this: http://www.eelkat.com/ All the photos are there.
They drove a bulldozer over our barn in 2001
October 18, 2006 they put a grease fryer bomb in our house
November 2006 - they poisoned my cats - ask the vet at Pine Point Animal Hospital - she did the blood work, she's the one who said they were poisoned, the cat she tested was named Skeezics
May 10, 2010 they took my 1964 Dodge 330 and cut in in half
August 8, 2013 they drove a bulldozer over my grandmothers house - the photos are there.
and those are only a few of the things they've done... This is NOT the first time they've done something like this. PLEASE read it. PLEASE. they killed my other cats, I have no reason to believe they will not do the same thing to these cats as well.
It's all because of my dad. He keeps stating fights with the town hall and police department. He goes out of his way to get the town hall mad at him. My father is a known trouble maker. He even calls himself "The Monkey Wrench Instigator". He thinks it's a joke, like he's playing a game. He has serious mental problems. I don't know how to make him stop. They took my cats last week to get to him through me. They think punishing me will make him stop, but they don't understand, he doesn't care about me or my cats, he's been laughing all week, he thinks it's the best thing that's happened yet, he says it means he's getting to them. He doesn't care. He's never cared about anyone, I don't think he's capable of it.
Judge Foster is the one who ordered the Old Orchard Beach Police to take my cats. It's JUDGE FOSTER...It's the SAME JUDGE from 2005 She's been trying to take my cats for a decade now.
In 2005 Judge Foster (the judge on this cat case) said she did not believe I could not talk (someone had called me as a witness in their case) and she said because of my cloths (I wear ball gowns and furs and 100 year old gold embroidered kimono) that I was "clearly insane" and she started a separate case against me and sent me to a psychiatrist.
He said, I was "clearly a feral child, raised in the woods with only feral cats for companions" and said my speech disorder was largely due to cats not having speech. He said I was a "very unique case" because "feral children are so rare", he wrote up a grant application for state funding to do research into me and my cats.
He is the one who diagnosed me with Autism. I was 31 years old.
Judge Foster, had a fight with him in court. She wanted to put me in a mental institute, and he told her, No I was a feral child, I would never survive being separated from my cats, I would never assimilate into American culture, I would never be able to live around humans, he said this was the most bizarre and extreme case of feral child as adult he had ever heard of, he said he'd never seen a human live in the woods with feral cats and be accepted and protected by the cats.
He said, my "bizarre uniqueness needs to be preserved and studied" and that feral children should never be separated from the animals they live with in the forests. He said after he realized what I was he looked into cases of feral children and, there is no case of a feral child separated from it's animal family that ever successfully integrated into human society and most die shortly after being separated from their animals.
He said I would never drive a car, pointing out I owned cars but had no concept of their proper use and had no license. He is why I got a driver's license in 2011, to PROVE he was a liar...because I DIDN'T LIKE the way he was FALSELY PRESENTING ME in COURT.
He said I would never go to college. He said I had no concept of what it was like to be in a group situation with humans and would never be able to attend college. He is why I got my GED in 2011 and started college that same year, to PROVE he was a liar...because I DIDN'T LIKE the way he was FALSELY PRESENTING ME in COURT.
Feral child? Seriously? Do I look like a feral child to you? THIS is the type of people I am dealing with! Just because I grew up in a DIFFERANT CULTURE, doesn't make me a feral child! But does that stop people from calling me that? NO! i am so sick and damned tired of the stupid names and labels people like to slap on me because I dress differant and come from a culture with traditions different from yours. Good god! Do you even know what a feral child is? a feral child is a child that NEVER had human contact. I attended church every Sunday from the day I was born and back in the 170s Mormon services were 5 hours long, they are only 3 hours long now. And in the 1970s and 1980s, services were on Sundays ANd Wednesday (they don't do the Wednesday meetings anymore). PLUS I volunteered at every supper and every fireside and every dance (yes, I went to dances)...where do you get off calling me a feral child? That church had a congregation 750 members,350 of which were active weekly. Does that really sound like a feral child to you?
He said I would never live in a house, that I had no concept of what the inside of a house even looked like. Our house had not yet been bombed. He pointed out that there were 6 people, 9 cats, 3 birds, and 2 dogs living in a 16'x9' tar paper shack without glass in the windows or floorboards over the dirt or insulation on the walls. He's the reason I bought No Hurry in 2012 and why in 2013 I started clearing the garbage off the land so that I could have a module kit chalet house brought in for me and my cats to live in so we didn't have to live outdoors. The house was to be coming in spring 2016... to PROVE he was a liar...because I DIDN'T LIKE the way he was FALSELY PRESENTING ME in COURT.
I was in the process of clearing the land (2 trash cans a week at a time as that is all the town will allow) when I got the auction notice in October 2014 telling me the town had taken the land and was auctioning it off. I went to the auction hearing and asked if I could buy it back and they said I could, if I could get all the 175' long, 30' wide, 12' pile of garbage off the land before April 2, 2015. And I did: I hired some men and a uhaul and we took out 14,000 pounds of garbage at a cost of $128 per ton, 7,000 lbs of scrap metal (they paid us $71 for it), recycled 57 tires at a cost of $3 a tire, and found a guy with a wood stove who took all 3,000+ wood pallets.
There is still some stuff in the yard, but 90% of it is gone, and the town said, okay, I obviously made an effort, they'll send public works to take out the rest and I can pay for that bill on top of the cost to buy the land back, and the public work crew came and the police took my cats.
The psychiatrist was right, I did not have a concept of "normal" lifestyle. I've rarely left the farm all these 30+ years, did not start college until 2011. I had no idea how "normal" people dressed, how "normal" people lived, what "normal people's cars" looked like (mine have marbles glued to it). I only knew how MY PEOPLE dressed, how PEOPLE IN CHURCH dressed. While I was in college I visited some people and got to see what WHITE AMERICAN houses look like on the inside, and was trying to get a house put on the land so that I could live that way too, so I didn't have to have stuck up snooty nosed white Americans putting me down anymore.
I have come a long ways since Judge Foster last saw me in 2005, but I know that I am still no where's near "normal" and I doubt I ever will be. And I know I am no where's near "normal enough" to pass Judge Foster's stamp of approval. A teacher in college helped me to learn better conversation skills, but the Selective Mutism still trips me up very badly.
He told her how I never went to public school and had only very limited contact with humans my entire life. He told her that I run at the sight of humans and act more cat then human. Limited contact? There are 368 people in my family. The church I attended had 750 members.
I know every town in this state, you want to know why? Because I've been to every one of of them.
He talked to everyone in my family and said to the Judge Foster of them: "I've never seen a family like this. I think they may be Gypsies. Every one of them runs away from humans. I think they all have Autism. I know her father has very severe Schizophrenia, he should never have been allowed to raise children. He does not know how to. He lives in a tool shed, with no electricity or plumping, he makes his family live the same way. Wendy doesn't know how to live in normal conditions, because was never raised in normal conditions. He is very paranoid and starts feuds with local government officials. I believe it is him that needs to be institutionalized."
Do you want to see what it is, he called a tar-paper shack and tool shed? I'll show you. HERE IT IS:
Does THAT^^^^ look like a tar paper shack or tool shed to you?
Do you see how much this doctor was lying about me in court? That is the type of people I'm dealing with. That is the type of lies they are spreading about me. That is the type of things these people are willing to do and say in court.
Just because I spend my time with the feral cat herd of the Ross Forest, but that DOES NOT MAKE ME A FERAL CHILD and I am tired of people saying that about me. They go OUT OF THEIR WAY to try to say what it takes to make me look bad. There is NO LIMIT on how LOW these people are willing to stoop. Just look at what they did to my cats, that alone tells you the type of monsters we are dealing with.
They call me a feral child? Do they even know what a feral child is? That's the kind of rumors and lies that are being spread about me.
I don't know what to do. I don't know who is behind this. I don't know how to find out.
My cats are the only ones I have, because this town has spent the last 9 years making sure I had no one else. They have cut me off from EVERYTHING and EVERYONE. The TOWN did that.
I am DENIED assistance.
I am DENIED TANF.
I am DENIED disability.
I am DENIED employment.
I am DENIED Food Stamps.
I am DENIED housing.
I am DENIED medical treatment.
I am DENIED access to running water.
THAT IS HOW FAR THIS TOWN IS WILLING TO GO TO TRY TO CUT ME OFF FROM EVERYBODY JUST TO TAKE MY LAND!
And because none of that worked to make me leave, now they take my cats and slap false criminal charges on me!
And I can point out something else? When I apply for assistance - I HAVE NEVER RECEIVED PAPERWORK FROM THE STATE TELLING ME IT WAS DENIED. I have ALWAYS been told IN PERSON by a random social worker, who just randomly shows up at my land to say: "I'm sorry, but I applied you for everything and you're not eligible for ANYTHING."
I need a lawyer and I don't know how to get one.
Please, you don't understand what's going on and WHY I need help so very fast. They WILL kill the cats. They ALREADY killed the others.
PLEASE SOMEBODY FORWARD THIS TO A LAWYER WHO WILL HELP ME!!!
I need to find a lawyer to help me with this. I have multiple court dates on the papers and I don't know how to do any of court thing and I have major massive panic attack meltdowns in court. I was in court years ago as a witness to an event and when I had to go testify, I froze, like I had gone into a coma or something, I couldn't talk for weeks and weeks and weeks, I was totally shut down. It happens every time I'm under stress and every time I've ever been in court it happens. I also have Selective Mutism form of Autism, and around some people I can talk okay but around most people my speech is slurred really bad or I just can't talk at all.
I know I can't represent myself in court with a disability like this, but I have no income and am homeless and living off food pantry and Salvation Army food and so I don't have anyway to pay a lawyer and I don't know how to find a lawyer that takes a case like this for no pay. If you know of any like that could you please, please, please forward this to them.
I need help and I need it very fast to get my cats back. They are my family. The oldest one I've had for 14 years. I don't have anyone else. I don't have any friends because no one wants to be friends with a "retard" (that's everyone calls me, so my cats are my only friends and they took them away. Please can you help me to get them back?
If you can not help me, can you please forward this to someone who can? Thank you. - Wendy
Wendy C Allen
146 Portland Ave
Old Orchard Beach, Maine
(Our mail has stopped being delivered: we have RECEIVED NO HOME MAIL DELIVERY since April 2, 2015)
207-502-5776 (text is best, I have Autism and conversations verbally are difficult for me; more so on a phone)