About My Blog.

Welcome! This is "Catatonic Digressions."
Most readers don't understand my blog's title. It's an old inside joke from a forum long gone. I was going to change it, but since it's been "confusing" for so long, I decided to leave it. Don't worry about what it means, the content of the blog is what matters...or not

Unfortunately, my blog isn't what I set out for it to be. A sick woman in Orleans, MA began stalking me in 2007 on Myspace. Since that time, this woman obsessed over me to the point of having the police come to her home and threaten to confiscate her laptop. She is a racist and anti-Semite.I could no longer blog freely, knowing this nutbag was just going to take the photos I'd post and put them on a child exploitation website.

This site is only up for the information it has that others might need to know about. That information is about "Seal Shepherd" aka Michael McDade, Kat McAboy aka Marilyn McAboy and Veronika Hompo, a self-proclaimed Nazi.

I'm a real person. I'm real and I don't pretend to be someone I'm not. After years of putting up with online abuse by manipulative, pathological liars, attention whores or narcissists, I've had it. Don't bother me with pathetic drama. I have no time for these types of people and their need to absorb others' time and attention.

This blog is no longer used. I've retired it for the most part unless something very important comes up.

Please, join Sea Shepherd Conservation Society, and follow them on Twitter and Facebook.

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Nothing Much Here...But a Few Words From My MySpace Profiles

I'm on MySpace. 

Trying to be "Ugly" 

Everyone in the apartment complex I lived in knew who Ugly was. Ugly was the resident tomcat. Ugly loved three things in this world: fighting, eating garbage, and, shall we say, love. 

The combination of these things combined with a life spent outside had their effect on Ugly. To start with, he had only one eye and where the other should have been was a gaping hole. He was also missing his ear on the same side, his left foot appeared to have been badly broken at one time, and had healed at an unnatural angle, making him look like he was always turning the corner. His tail has long age been lost, leaving only the smallest stub, which he would constantly jerk and twitch. 

Ugly would have been a dark grey tabby, striped-type, except for the sores covering his head, neck, even his shoulders with thick, yellowing scabs. Every time someone saw Ugly there was the same reaction. "That's one UGLY cat!!" 

All the children were warned not to touch him, the adults threw rocks at him, hosed him down, squirted him when he tried to come in their homes, or shut his paws in the door when he would not leave. Ugly always had the same reaction. If you turned the hose on him, he would stand there, getting soaked until you gave up and quit. If you threw things at him, he would curl his lanky body around feet in forgiveness. 

Whenever he spied children, he would come running, meowing frantically and bump his head against their hands, begging for their love. If you ever picked him, up he would immediately begin suckling on your shirt, earrings, whatever he could find. 

One day Ugly shared his love with the neighbor's huskies. They did not respond kindly, and Ugly was badly mauled. From my apartment I could hear his screams, and I tried to rush to his aid. By the time I got to where he was laying, it was apparent Ugly's sad life was almost at an end. 

Ugly lay in a wet circle, his back legs and lower back twisted grossly out of shape, a gaping tear in the white strip of fur that ran down his front. As I picked him up and tried to carry him home, I could hear him wheezing and gasping, and could feel him struggling. It must be hurting him terribly, I thought. 

Then I felt a familiar tugging, sucking sensation on my ear. Ugly, in so much pain, suffering and obviously dying, was trying to suckle my ear. I pulled him closer to me, and he bumped the palm of my hand with his head, then he turned his one golden eye towards me, and I could hear the distinct sound of purring. Even in the greatest pain, that ugly battled-scarred cat was asking only for a little affection, perhaps some compassion. 

At that moment I thought Ugly was the most beautiful, loving creature I had ever seen. Never once did he try to bite or scratch me, or even try to get away from me, or struggle in any way. Ugly just looked up at me completely trusting in me to relieve his pain. 

Ugly died in my arms before I could get inside, but I sat and held him for a long time afterwards, thinking about how one scarred, deformed little stray could so alter my opinion about what it means to have true pureness of spirit, to love so totally and truly. Ugly taught me more about giving and compassion than a thousand books, lectures, or talk show specials ever could, and for that I will always be thankful. He had been scarred on the outside, but I was scarred on the inside, and it was time for me to move on and learn to love truly and deeply. To give my total to those I cared for. 

Many people want to be richer, more successful, well liked, beautiful, but for me,
I will always try to be Ugly. 

~Author Unknown



In Hope, An Animal Shelter Story

As a nation, we claim to love cats and dogs. Millions of households have pets, and billions of dollars are spent yearly on pet supplies and food. But as a nation, we should take a hard, sobering look at a different annual statistic: the millions of dogs and cats given up to shelters or left to die on the streets. And the numbers tell only half the story.

Every cat or dog who dies as a result of pet overpopulation—whether humanely in a shelter or by injury, disease, or neglect—is an animal who, more often than not, would have made a wonderful companion, if given the chance. Tremendous as the problem of pet overpopulation is, it can be solved if each of us takes just one small step, starting with not allowing our animals to breed. Here's information about this crisis and why spaying and neutering is the first step to a solution.

Visit http://www.brightlion.com/ for more information.

For every cat you spay and neuter you can stop the birth of over 420,000 in 7 years. Just ONE can stop 420,000 others from being born unwanted.

If you would spay just 3 cats you could prevent the births of over a million in your lifetime!

Pretty Impressive....

For more information on how you can help go to http://www.catswithnoname.net
Do Something! Do it NOW!

I Stood Beside Your Bed Last Night (Dedicated to Kitty’s Parents) 
Current mood: sad 

Last night I took Jack to the animal hospital for his blood work. As we waited, a couple came in with their beautiful cream colored dog and sat down. The woman went to counter, and I looked over at the man, a man around my father's age, and saw that he'd pulled a tissue out of his pocket and was crying. The dog, a large dog with sad eyes, sat down at his feet. The woman spoke quietly to the receptionist. She was discussing options after euthanasia. "OH GOD, no, that poor dog and those poor people, how sad..." I thought. The woman decided on taking the ashes home. I'd gotten up while she was still at the counter, and went over to the man and his furry child, and asked about her. Her name was Kitty, and she has cancer of the spleen. She was in pain, she was too sick, and it was time. My eyes welled up. He was sobbing now. A couple nearby leaned over, and they offered their condolences and they were now teary-eyed also. I stroked Kitty and told her she would soon be amongst many friends, and pain-free. I hope so. What do I know. I can only hope that animals get a better deal, because they don't deserve to suffer while on this planet. But I digress. I really had to hold in the waterworks as I looked into Kitty's eyes and said goodbye to her, this dog I knew for barely 5 minutes, if even that. A technician came and called the couple's last name, and off they went. We all said we were so sorry, and crying, the couple led Kitty to her final moments with her loving family.


I stood by your bed last night, 
I came to have a peep. 
I could see that you were crying, 
You found it hard to sleep. 

I whined to you softly, 
as you brushed away a tear, 
"It's me, I haven't left you, 
I'm well, I'm fine, I'm here." 

I was close to you at breakfast, 
I watched you pour the tea, 
You were thinking of the many times, 
your hands reached down to me. 

I was with you at the shops today, 
Your arms were getting sore. 
I longed to take your parcels, 
I wish I could do more. 

I was with you at my grave today, 
You tend it with such care. 
I want to reassure you, 
that I'm not lying there. 

I walked with you towards the house, 
as you fumbled for your key. 
I gently put my paw on you, 
I smiled and said "It's me." 

You looked so very tired, 
and sank into a chair. 
I tried so hard to let you know, 
that I was standing there. 

It's possible for me, 
to be so near you everyday, 
To say to you with certainty, 
"I never went away." 

You sat there very quietly, 
then smiled, I think you knew ... 
in the stillness of that evening, 
I was very close to you. 

The day is over... 
I smile and watch you yawning, 
and say "Goodnight, 
God bless, 
I'll see you in the morning." 

And when the time is right for you, 
to cross the brief divide, I'll rush across to greet you, 
and we'll stand, side by side. 

I have so many things to show you, 
there is so much for you to see. 
Be patient, live your journey out ... 
then come home to be with me. 

~Author Unknown

This Chipin widget was updated on Nov. 25th, 2008

My Cat JACK. FIV+ Does Not Mean PTS.

UPDATE Wed: Jack will be on the AZT ((ZIDOVUDINE) for life. Previously, Dr. B thought we could wean Jack off it, but his blood work shows that Jack needs it. Jack's blood work also showed that his bone marrow is not regenerating red blood cells, but his levels are not dangerous, so we are going to keep him on the AZT and do blood work on a schedule to make sure he's doing okay. The other option was Epogen 3 times per week, and that was very expensive and the doctor didn't think it was necessary in Jack's case.

Below is the blog from spookie's account, from last night:

This info (in quotes) is included in this blog, but it's near the bottom. Most of this blog was typed up a few nights back, when Jack was doing better. Hopefully he'll be better by tomorrow.

"I took Jack for his bloodwork, and also got more Clavamox. He clearly has the sniffles and needs more antibiotics. He's going to be on the AZT for at least a month more. (ZIDOVUDINE) He wasn't himself today, and hid most of the day, so I was nervous for him all day, but he did eat a little and drink water. I took him around 6:30pm, and I'll know tomorrow the results of the blood work. He seems a little better now that I gave him his doage of both meds, and he stopped hiding, and actually sat on the couch with me for an hour. He wouldn't socialize all day, and I'm so in tune to their behavior that I knew immediately he wasn't feeling well. I hope it was just because he spit up his AZT last night and hid, and then this morning, he'd only gotten a partial dose and no Clavamox. He was very "blah" all day, and that's not Jack."

This is spookie's mom again!
THANK YOU to everyone who donated!!!
Thanks you to all of you who reposted the bulletins, and to those who sent prayers, positive energy and kept Jack in their thoughts. We all appreciate every bit of all of it!!!

He's doing okay, and seems to have his appetite back, plus his playful side. He has a sneeze, but then again, so do I. :( I will find out why he's sneezing, hopefully when he's seen by his doctor this week.

Jack goes back for full blood work this coming week. I'm going to get hit again for another huge bill, but since Jack isn't dying, there is no reason to not make sure he is still doing better and not declining. They need to make sure he is doing okay on the FIV medication. He's on 3ML of ZIDOVUDINE twice daily, and Clavamox in case he still has an infection. He'll be on the ZIDOVUDINE for a month, then slowly weaned off it.

These are my invoices from his stay at the animal hospital. I wanted everyone to see them, so those who don't know me don't think anything even slightly iffy. I know those of you who have known me for a long time didn't need me to post these. I just didn't want to see what I've seen happen to some other friends on MySpace. Posting them before a rumor is best.


We could still use help. I do hate begging. It's why I never did before. This time it's different. I have to somehow pay for this, and at the same time, pay for some

For some reason, I was unable to POST on MySpace; post bulletins, reply to messages, post in groups, etc. (for days a lot of things didn't work most times, and not just MySpace, it was pretty random actually...sometimes Google even crapped out, and my ISP popped a message saying to call customer service about my account! So, um, yes, I owe a lot of money, but it turned out to be a modem issue, and today they reset it and everything finally works. My personal email was offline since Oct 17!!!) and I tried to post the ORIGINAL version of this blog, and UGH, it was FAR TOO PERSONAL! —blah blah blah, not necessary for BLOGGER, TMI, LOL —Jack is lounging on our bed, Harry's taking a nap.

I took Jack for his bloodwork, and also got more Clavamox. He clearly has the sniffles and needs more antibiotics. He's going to be on the AZT for at least a month more. (ZIDOVUDINE) He wasn't himself today, and his most of the day, so I was nervous for him all day. I took him around 6:30pm, and I'll know tomorrow the results of the blood work. He seems a little better now that I gave him his doage of both meds, and he stopped hiding, and actually sat on the couch with me for an hour. He wouldn't socialize all day, and I'm so in tune to their behavior that I knew immediately he wasn't feeling well. I hope it was just because he spit up his AZT last night and hid, and then this morning, he'd only gotten a partial dose and no Clavamox. He was very "blah" all day, and that's not Jack.

Anything helps.

Thanks for reading this far. xxxxx


The NEW Chipin widget:

I am a mutt. Russian, Turkish, Irish, Polish, English.

I'm an HSP — Highly Sensitive Person.

I'm a Type 2, The Helper.

This is my Flickr badge. It doesn't fit in my blog. meh.
spookie. Get yours at bighugelabs.com/flickr

Neither does my Last.fm music quilt.


  1. Oh wow-what a mooching loser you are trying to get money from people on line. You are such a con artist on so many levels it isn't even funny. I bet your cat isn't even sick. You are just another online cyber theif like DL or KB or don't want to pay your own bills and wants everyone on line to do it for you. You will pay for the abuse towards me this blog too. And btw, EVERYONE is on to you spookie. You have no idea how much legal action is going to be taken against you and by how many people.

  2. You're just a dispicable, cruel and vile human being. You wish I was a con artist. I bet you're the con artist, StepFord Child. I bet you're not even an adoptee, and I bet you were never abused a day in your life. This adoption/Gimme my OBC thing is your scam, right?

    Who is DL? KB? Do you just pull initials from the alphabet? I bet!

    Take the advice everyone gave you long ago. GET HELP. you need it more than ever now. You've gone over the edge and into the deep end. You're more than an abusive cyberbullying creep. You're a disturbed danger to society and possibly to yourself.

    If you have health insurance, take advantage of it and get yourself some psychological evaluations. you're a very ill woman.

    Your threats are so pathetic, so please, just stop posting them. They mean nothing and you're just blowing smoke out of your lazy, fat ass. YOU have no idea about anything. You're just a cruel and mean hag who gets pleasure and happiness from trying to hurt other people. I bet your own daughter, if you even have one (I doubt it) ran away once she was of age. Who could possibly tolerate you?

    Get lost, lady. I warned you so many times, yet you JUST DON'T KNOW WHEN TO STOP.