Getting My G.O.A.T.

Ah, the fruits of Bidenomics. When your entire administration is built upon fantasies and you demand not only acceptance of them but reverence for them, society's downfall is an inevitability. It is a stack of cards that is bound to fall because its very foundation is fake. But until that day, the enlightened among us are forced to watch as it pretends that men can become "birthing persons" (or, more recently, "egg producers"), our elections are flawlessly secure, the only people crossing our open borders are poor families seeking asylum from oppressive foreign homelands, and our nation's economy is at its absolute best. And, by extension of that last one, charitable giving is at the same levels as they have been for the past several years.

But, to quote a line from breakout folk singer Oliver Anthony's viral hit "Rich Men North of Richmond", "It's a damn shame...." that, unfortunately, none of those fairy tales are true. (Well, except that men can't become women. That one's not a shame. But I digress...) And, as a result, a plea for help posted yesterday to the Cary Conservatives' Telegram channel by someone advocating for The Goathouse Refuge in Pittsboro caught my eye.

First, for the uninitiated, a disclaimer: the shelter is not, in fact, a refuge for goats. There are goats there, across the gravel road from the shelter, behind a fence. But the species being rescued is, rather, cats. It's not that the owner doesn't know the difference. But, for reasons unknown, at least to this supporter of the shelter, that is simply a charming misnomber that is easily overlooked. Especially when one visits and sees how much love and freedom is lavished upon the feline charges it houses.

Not only are there quarters for the cats indoors in clean, safe, structures, the cats have full access to just as spacious clean, securely fenced-in, outdoor areas, with both indoor and out generously strewn with myriad cat toys, hiding "houses", and litter boxes.

Special quarters are onsite for the infirm among them to be kept separate from the others and treated by a local veterinarian, and to serve as kitten nurseries. And roaming throughout both areas is a caring crew of volunteers who clearly adore the creatures who are fortunate enough to call this place their (usually) temporary home as much as does the shelter's owner, Siglinda Scarpa, who envisioned a safe, free-roaming haven for cats from the time she was a youngster in Italy before making her dream a reality for cats here several years ago.

Sadly, Siglinda's plea was a poignant one. The severe downturn in the economy stemming from Biden's disastrous full-frontal attacks on our energy sources, livelihoods, and currency has had a debilitating effect on charitable donations to the shelter. Donations that the aging Siglinda relies on, no less so than does any non-profit 501(c )3 organization. Consequently, she is selling off a 6.1-acre portion of her property to make managing the scores of cats housed there easier for her, and for an infusion of cash to keep the shelter going. I believe I read somewhere that she also plans to rent out an apartment someplace to generate some much-needed recurring income to use to sustain the cats' needs.

She confided that even a recurring donation of a mere $10/month would help tremendously.

For now, though, she has options for donations on her website, www.goathouserefuge.org, the proceeds from her art gallery and gift shop, where she sells exquisitely handcrafted pottery pieces she makes herself along with tee shirts, coffee grounds, and assorted other goods, and relies upon the tender care and meticulous attention accorded her flock of felines by soft-hearted volunteers.

We humans should be so lucky as to live in quarters as caring and free as Siglinda's cats should we ever become homeless as a byproduct of the tyranny and ineptitude we now face from the government.

Be that as it may, while we still have the freedom of movement we do still enjoy, and whatever latitude our finances still afford us, The Goathouse Refuge is a wonderful, albeit needy, haven for arguably God's most elegant creatures and a worthy recipient of any you have to give, be it free time and/or financial support, however small a measure of either.

Consider taking the scenic drive past Jordan Lake to go visit The Goathouse Refuge tomorrow or next weekend (it is open select hours by appointment on Fridays, and on Saturdays and Sundays from 11:00-3:00), and you will see why this charming habitat lives up to my version of its monicker, the G.O.A.T. (Greatest Of All Time).