Fear of Flying - Curious

This weekend is my 25th college reunion. I pondered going. But the same remoteness that made the school attractive back then just makes it hard to get to now. You can’t even fly direct from here, it’s another hour’s bus ride on top of two flights, and airlines seem to be dropping services and flights with alarming regularity.

I wish I was there, but I’m also glad to be here at my usual volunteer gig. Getting older means getting more content to stay put, and finding it harder to adjust to strangers and noise and disrupted routines. Becoming catlike, in fact.

Speaking of not being into noise and stress, I visit two of my favorite girls, Curious and Tiger. They’re a bonded pair who are very nervous and shy. It took a week before I even saw them both venture away from their safe spot, where they spend most of their time curled/smushed together in the same covered cozy.

Tiger is aptly named, a beautiful brown tabby. Curious might be more appropriately called Frightened here at the shelter. But once she starts to relax, what a sweetie. She’s a little gray tabby, angora soft, gentle in her movements, fond enough of people to give little hand licks. They both need time to get used to strangers, but will make wonderful additions to a quiet household.

A pair of young people come into our corridor. They start to enter one of the condos, which they’re not supposed to without a volunteer, so I go out and offer to show them in. They just wanted to pet the cat, they explain, no big deal. Maddie’s has a number of rules to protect the cats’ health and well being, including disinfecting hands between visits, only supervised visits, no using hands as toys, and so on. Most people would be sensible on their own, but some wouldn’t, hence the rules for everyone.

The young man is put off by such restrictions, as well as by the higher cost of adopting a kitten, and the fact that all the adoptable cats here are spayed or neutered, which I guess impinges on his notion of feline freedoms. "People should be neutered," he observes indignantly, "overpopulation is the real problem."

To all of which, I’m thinking – Dude. I was already feeling kinda old today, and now you’re turning me into The Man, enforcer of rules and symbol of societal woes. I say nothing, however, and maintain the expression of a matronly Walmart employee until he’s wound down and I’m confident he won’t sneak into other condos without a volunteer.

I can barely remember being so young and self-righteous. But I was. And there are a group of folks who would remember me that way if at all dancing to oldies in Iowa tonight, in case I need proof.