COTTAGE GROVE SENTINEL November 16, 2016
Standing in The Light!
C
Douglas G. Maddess, DMD
FAMILY AND GENERAL DENTISTRY
Brightening Lives One Smile at a Time
See our new website:
douglasgmaddessdmd.com
indy is famous for several things!
She was mayor of an Oregon town,
and she was the proud parent of Mr. Wings,
the husband and father of Mary Ellen “An-
gel Scribe’s” famous swimming cats!
“It was an honor to have Mr. Wings,” said
Cindy. “He came from a breeder who mis-
treated him, and his life was limited to one
small and smelly room. The minute I saw
him, I felt an instant bond, and not just be-
cause his white fur looked like my hair!
I was so happy to have him; he was a
beautiful Silver Persian and just needed
someone to love him. When I came home
tired from work, he was a comfort looking
up at me with his gorgeous green eyes.”
It is amazing how Mr. Wings, a rescued
and once caged adult cat, adjusted to riding
in a car. Cindy traveled back and forth from
Idaho to Oregon, and so did a proud Mr.
Wings, riding on top of her luggage.
“We had a great life together until his
passing,” said Cindy. “He seemed to enjoy
the drive’s scenery as much as I did.”
When Cindy was in Wallace, Idaho, she
went to see a play and after the purr-for-
mance, because everyone looked like they
were having so much fun, she asked, “How
can someone get involved in your group?”
Miraculously, there was an audition the
next day for a Lawrence Welk musical trib-
ute. Cindy was thrilled! The show would be
purr-fect because she grew up with his mu-
sic, her hair would (once again) be a perfect
fi t for the time period, and she had purr-evi-
ously sung in a country and western band.
“Audition day was one of God’s many
graces,” said Cindy. “I was the only one
who showed for the audition. I had not sung
in a long time, so I was nervous and feared
rejection, but things went smoothly. The di-
rector took my hand, making me feel safe
and loved, and she asked me to sing, God
Bless America. I enthusiastically fl ung my
arms open wide and sang!
It was a life changing moment. They
‘hired’ me on the spot! And from this expe-
rience I decided to never be afraid again!”
One freezing night, just before Christmas
and after her rehearsal, Cindy was surprised
to see a beautiful cat sitting beside the road
like it was waiting for a bus.
Cindy wondered, “Why was the cat there?
This is right downtown, no homes around,”
and she decided that if the Persian was still
there after practice, she would rescue it.
After practice, there was “her” cat, sitting
directly under the street light like it was try-
ing to be seen - or waiting for that invisible
cat bus.
“I stopped the car,” said Cindy, “expect-
ing the cat to dash off, but instead, when I
called across the freezing 40 feet between
us, she ran as fast as she could directly to
me. I tell you, that kitty was waiting to be
seen and saved!”
Cindy never thought of her other two oth-
er cats or dog at home, only of saving the
suffering cat. Once home, the staving stray
marched over to her kitchen waste basket,
tipped it over, and began digging for some-
thing to eat. (obviously not liking her cats’
brand of cat food!)
“I named her Sweet Pea,” said Cindy, “‘P’
for short. My other cats slunk into the room,
watching ‘P’ like she was ‘crazy’. But, that
did not stop them from investigating the
tipped garbage.
I cut up some chicken and ‘P’ devoured it
like a shark. I ate my dinner on the couch
and each night “P” sat beside me. She used
her paw to cup up my food, at lightning
speed, and eat it. After a few days, I gave
her her own plate so I did not have to have
kitty paws in my food.
The three cats quickly blended into a co-
7A
Courtesy Photo
Cindy is cuddling Miss “P”, the Per-
sian kitty who ‘stood out’ one freez-
ing winter’s night waiting for a ride
“home”.
pasetic fur-family, and they all love their
brother dog, Peanut.
Rescue animals fi nd me. When I decided
to adopt a dog, I wanted a free one, so I
prayed about it, and kept on the look out.
When I saw a fi ve inch newspaper ad look-
ing for a home for a dog, I just knew he was
mine.
The Lord reminded me that my pets
usually arrive sight unseen, and they are a
perfect fi t. Peanut’s parents handed me his
leash and he instantly loved me. He had
been with cats and worked easily into our
kitty home; he walked in and never even
looked at the cats.
Over our marriage, my husband, Nick,
has put up with all my stray rescues. When
the animals fi rst arrive, Nick gets his dander
up, but then he turns into the best cat/dog
daddy you’ve ever seen. Each pet soon be-
comes his ‘favorite’ and he ‘can’t live with-
out it’. Therefore, I tell him that every one I
bring home, I am doing him a favor!”
TIPS
Hair Raising information!
Have you found hair in your pet’s kib-
ble?
Http://truthaboutpetfood.com/hair-for-
the-dog-and-cat/
O FFBEAT
Continued from page 4A
The hotel “annex” started fall-
ing into the sea, room by room,
until it was gone. By 1938, 59
homes were also gone.
The winter storms started
driving waves all the way over
the thin part of the peninsula,
fi lling the bay with saltwater
— much to the dismay of the
oyster farmers who, since 1928,
had been growing oysters there.
It all culminated in a disas-
trous winter of 1952, when a
big storm actually washed out
a mile-wide gap in the waist of
the spit, turning Bayocean into
an island and drenching the bay
with beach sand. The oyster
farms were buried beneath it, a
multi-million dollar local indus-
try wiped out in an instant. The
other estuary fi sheries started to
collapse, too, as the salinity of
the bay surged to levels the local
fi sh couldn’t tolerate.
The federal government now
sprang into action, building a
riprap seawall across the gap to
stop the further damage.
By this time, there were just
a handful of residents left on
Bayocean. The last to leave
were Francis and Ida Mitchell,
who kept the little store there
and were, throughout their time
in Bayocean, the town’s biggest
boosters. Francis died in 1965
at the age of 95; Ida died some
years before that, after having
had a stroke.
By 1970, Bayocean Spit was
a thin line of riprap trailed by a
low bar of sand. By then not even
Francis Mitchell would have
been able to hang on there. The
formerly big, solid, 140-foot-
high head now more resembled
the ghost of a sand dune rising
feebly from the sea. The only
thing maintaining most of the
spit was the line of riprap across
the seaward edge.
But by 1970, crews were
working on putting another jetty
in — the south jetty.
Today, nearly 50 years after
the south jetty was completed,
visitors to Bayocean Spit can
look out on a much more sub-
stantial place. Today one can al-
most visualize the large and bus-
tling town that was platted there
a century ago — a town that
could, if its founder’s dreams
had been fully realized, have
been home to some 3,000 peo-
ple. The foliage is coming back,
although the dominant species
is the invasive and suppressive
Scotch broom, but at least the
spit is green once again.
As for the town — well,
technically, it still exists. Sev-
eral dozen people still own lots
there. Some of those lots are
still underwater. None of the
lots can be built on, and because
of waste disposal issues, it’s
even illegal for residents to park
a motorhome on them.
But that’s all that’s left. All
physical traces of the town of
Bayocean are long gone.
(Sources: Webber, Bert and
Margie. Bayocean: The Oregon
Town that Fell into the Sea. Cen-
tral Point, OR: Webb Research,
1989; Hardt, Ulrich H. “Bay-
ocean,” Oregon Encyclopedia,
oregonencyclopedia.org)
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