EelKat Wendy C Allen - Dark Fantasy Author
EelKat Wendy C Allen - Author Interview: Spell Casting Side Effects: Magic In Quaraun's Universe | Fantasy Author Interview










The Princess Bride predicting Covid-19?

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Stolen Cats
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.