It’s a quiet sunny day at Maddie’s. The first potential customers I see are a pair of women breezing through the hallways quickly, exclaiming "look at this one," "how cute," as if they’re shopping at the mall.So I settle in with Josh, a favorite with the volunteers. He’s a big, striking looking nine year old tabby, sadly returned because his owner since his kittenhood got sick. It has taken him awhile to get adjusted, and he's only after several weeks losing the habit of hissing at anyone approaching him. Moments afterward, he’s just fine, loving and warm. And very bright. He makes a lot of eye contact, which I like.
Later on, I show a couple kitties, but not to any serious takers. However, I overhear a staffer saying that someone’s interested in Josh. I peak in and see that the visit’s going well, lots of love in the room. I confirm it with the other volunteer – the lucky woman is going to bring Josh to join her even older cat at home. And that’s happy news for us all.
I meet a new guy, Maxwell. He’s a short hair, all black, middle aged and lanky. Another bright cat. He directs me in to see him by gazing pointedly at me from his doorway. Then he rubs, arching his back and purring, while I pet him, pausing for soulful looks. He shows me how he likes to be stroked, with lots of head and cheek rubbing. He’s one of those cats that will constantly be rubbing the side of his mouth on corners of furniture, I can tell.
He’s a smart kitty, careful and deliberate in his movements, sniffing around investigating me and the toy I’ve brought (fittingly, he’s a "Private Investigator" according to the new labeling). We play a bit, but he’s really more into being petted; he gets it that his human visitor time is limited.
"Keep up the eye contact, smart boy," I whisper upon leaving, hoping he’ll lure in someone permanent soon.
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