What We're Here For - Bebe

My late father used to proclaim December 26 his favorite day of the year – the day, finally, when all the "fuss and hoopla" was over and he could get back to his normal life. (He also used to root for the Grinch – in his small hearted phase – during the family’s annual viewing of How the Grinch Stole Christmas.)

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to sympathize, to the point of avoiding mainstream stores in a desperate attempt to avoid another insipid rendition of Jingle Bell Rock. But the last minute holiday rush is alive and well at Maddie’s. Happily with no music and the chance to help a bunch of people find their perfect pets.

A mom and son, who’s maybe 11, are making a careful assessment of every cat in the place. This is to be his cat, and they want to get it right. I escort them in to see several kitties, all quite different in temperament. He’s good with the cats, gentle and careful to let them sniff his hand, but not especially communicative with his mom or me.

They go off to discuss the situation while I visit pretty, vivacious and super sweet Sugar, a 17 year old white and tabby gal with a funny dark nose and wide eyes. She’s mellow, comfortable with herself in the way of any mature animal, and she leans next to me, purring while I pet her. It’s tough for older cats to find home, but she’s another winner (like my boy Buckie, who got adopted last week!). I also check in with precious and soft little Bebe, the all black long hair girl who loves lap time so much that it's hard to dislodge her when people in the hall need assistance.

I show another cat to a middle aged couple, answer questions, and try to steer people toward the right type of cats based on their answers to the feline-ality questionnaires. One couple are debating between two of the older cats, one outgoing and the other shy. I just stand and watch as the shy one, Patches, creeps onto the woman’s lap and into her heart. Patches just came in from the SIDO program, and is nervous about shelter life, so I’m glad to see her find new people.

The mom and boy return, wanting another look at Choir, a nice black and white 2 year old. Only the boy and I go in. As he sits on the floor, she pops out of her hiding spot and just claims him, rubbing her head back and forth across his knees, purring, and thrusting her head into his hand. After a minute or two, he looks up and quietly tells me that she’s the one.

In my head I picture the kid a decade from now, grown and telling the story of December 2009, how he got to pick out his cat, how they connected there on the floor of the shelter, and all the years he took care of her. And how his mom and some lady he didn’t even know exchanged smiles and looked like they were about to cry – because he probably had no idea at the time how sweet this moment was for all of us.

Happy holidays; back next year.

ps - just saw this article on Food Runners, another hands on org that I support: http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2009/12/24/DDCJ1B7LNR.DTL They could use year end donations if you're looking to make a final charitable gift.

It’s Beginning to Feel a Lot Like – Ritz!

The Mission area streets are crowded with shoppers, but the adoption center has a more standard Friday assortment of people wandering around. I’ve gotten my year end packages, cards and donations mailed off, and am ready to relax over the long holiday weekend (and glad not to be flying off to somewhere snowy and cold).

Hallway 5 is full of red hearts indicating cats who’ve gone days without a volunteer visit. I settle in with Bebe, a darling 2 year old soft black long hair with big yellow eyes. Her card says she can get worked up and nip, but all she does is crawl into my lap and curl up with her fluffy tail covering her nose, purring happily. I try to tempt her with a toy, but she’s more into lolling like a rag doll.

There are several other sweet black and white kitties along the hall – young Maddy and Choir, and playful older girl Molly. A heavy set couple come by looking for a new cat after losing their long time companion. No one seems quite right, and it seems like they may more time to deal with their loss.

A second couple come by, the woman reading the cats’ names and bios in a baby talk. They coo at some of the cats but no one seems to catch their eyes either. Or it’s more like every single one does, but they’re not sure who to meet.

Another volunteer asks if I’ve met Ritz, thinking I’d probably like him. I go check him out, and she’s right, he’s awesome. He’s a trim 10 year old brown tabby with narrow stripes, a friendly meow, and the biggest, widest eyes ever. I go in just to say hello, and in minutes he’s standing on my lap and licking my arm like we’re total pals. It’s hard to articulate, but the little dude is packed with charisma.

I hope he goes home for the holidays; he’ll make an excellent addition to some lucky household. Back in the main corridor, a staffer passes, holding up a tiny Santa suit and exclaiming she needs to find the best cat to wear it. Yep, it’s that time of year. Here’s hoping for more holiday magic…

Cycle of Life - Buckie

Made my way over to Union Square after work yesterday, elbowing through the crowds outside Macy’s for a look at the SPCA holiday window display. Totally cute as always – several kittens were sacked out sweetly, and those awake and frisky drew crowds of awestruck admirers of every age.

A volunteer had an adorable Chihuahua (one of many available these days!), attired in a tiny sweater for the cold weather, prancing out on the sidewalk. It was fun to see the crowd reacting to the animals. Dozens of people snapped pictures and no one could help but smile. I’ve no doubt that this was the highlight for numerous children's holiday downtown treks.

Over at the shelter, the kittens are cute too if less festively displayed. But it’s sad to see many of the older cats still around, longing for attention as well.

First up, a friendly young woman is choosing between a young adult and a kitten, both feisty all black cuties. They’re both good cats, as are several others she contemplates, looking like she wishes she could take them all. I reassure her that they’ll get homes eventually. But it’s up to her to make the final call. She goes out front, still pondering.

This gives me a chance to check in on Buckie, one of my favorite senior cats. He’s a charming long legged gray 9 year old with light tabby markings and white feet. He’s attentive and friendly, rubbing around for pets and gazing at me with big dilated eyes.

Buckie’s got a sad story – his former owner died, leaving him both homeless and bereft. Although he’s nice to all his human visitors, I feel like he’s still searching for his missing master. He’s trying to make the best of his situation though, and is pleased to have company.

A couple ask to see Wonder, a frisky little gray and white girl across the hall. The guy has asthma that can be triggered by some animal contact, so they’re just kind of testing the waters. Both of them seem to like the cat, so it’s disappointing after a few minutes when he admits his breathing is affected.

It’s just something you learn to live with, that’s his attitude. I feel bad for him though. It’s hard to imagine my life without animals front and center.

Wag More - Maya

Heading to Maddie’s, I pass a car out front, clearly a dog hauling vehicle, with a bumper sticker that says "Wag More, Bark Less." Seems a fitting motto for this time of year, busy and full of obligations that sometimes feel more like chores than festivities and family ties.

It was a banner weekend last week, adoption wise. But for now, the place is pretty quiet. I hang out with my girls Puff and Carrie, who reside across from each other and are both anxious for attention. Puff never stops moving, butting my arms and legs with her wet nose, rubbing and purring.

She stays at her door watching me across the hall. A young couple stop and coo at her, and Puff stays resolutely at her door, even standing up to stretch up toward them. They smile, but move off regretfully.

A boisterous group come in, followed by a dad and daughter who’s maybe three. He explains that a family member has allergies, but the little girl is fascinated by cats. He reads out their names as she stands, animated and nose level to the cats, looking in.

Soon all the cats in hallway too are at their doors, excited by the commotion, except for shy Maya. She’s a sweet, soft, long hair 3 year old, mostly white with black patches and tail. She’s good sized but it’s hard to tell, since she tends to curl up half hidden.

Once the people have moved on, Maya ventures out to my lap and relaxes as I pet her. Looking up at me, she appears to be smiling. Another dad with a somewhat older daughter stop and watch us. Maya tenses a little but bravely stays put. Actually she seems ready to camp out for the afternoon curled up on my lap, and I’m sorry to leave before she’s had her fill of companionship.

But another group of young people want to meet some kittens. Maddie’s has a surprisingly large number of youngsters for this time of year, so there’s quite a variety to choose from, and we get acquainted with a couple different kitten groups.

I get the impression they’re doing this more for entertainment than really getting ready to adopt. But it’s a pleasant diversion for all of us, the homeless kittens especially. Having fun where we can find it.

Oh Yeah, Thanks - Sadie

Three cheers for Thanksgiving! Friends, family and food make for a fine holiday. I managed to celebrate at two different gatherings, and eat well but not totally over indulge. Caught up with lots of people, heard good news and bad and still too many worries about jobs and job prospects.

And stayed up way too late. I drag myself over to Maddie’s thinking a quiet day with the cats would be nice, but guess – correctly – that that’s not going to happen. Yup, it’s Black Friday at the adoption center too, and the place is hopping.

First up, a woman with two kids, who turn out to be her nephew and niece, come in to meet Sadie, a cheerful and pretty 9 year old torbie. She’s a young 9, and while her paperwork says she’s shy, she does fine with four of us in there, wending between us and purring happily.

The aunt explains that the kids have never had a pet, and they’re just exploring the idea. (Ah the influence of the aunt – been there.) Both children are a bit shy with the cat, but interested and attentive when I run through some of the duties and rewards associated with caring for a pet.

The next guy I talk to is a soft spoken man who lost his cat a month ago. We meet two kitties he’s interested in, and chat for a bit about cats and cat personalities. I feel like he has one of those magic moments with a lovely new all white fellow named Hemmingway. He’s a cool kitty, and he climbs up onto the guy’s leg for a moment, seeming to claim him.

The guy considers it for a bit, and then decides he’s ready to adopt him, and I send him off to the front desk. Several other people ask for assistance – some looking pretty seriously, others just checking out Maddie’s and getting their cat fix.

Another aunt with two nieces are shopping for a feisty kitten to go with an active household with other cats and dogs. As I’m showing the adorable and aptly named Spidy, I see Hemmingway’s new dad carefully carrying the tell tale cardboard box out in the parking lot out front. The kids thank me and move on.

And it occurs to me to offer thanks back. As a volunteer, it’s easy to see the people touring Maddie’s as a single mass of people with needs and questions. But on a day with so many visitors, individuals stand out… so thanks to the people who’ve decided to adopt a homeless animal, to the guy who made a spontaneous extra donation along with paying the adoption fee for his pair of kittens, to the people bringing out of town guests to show how nice a shelter can be – and of course, to the animal loving aunts. All of our lives are enriched.

Pets of the Past - Puff

Empty condos at Maddie’s! I’m pleased to see that senior gals Pookie and Mitten have been adopted, and I shortly learn that my buddy Tony is about to go home. We’re in no danger of running out of adoptable cats, of course, but it’s good to see the turn over.

I visit with Carrie, then move across the hall to meet Puff. She’s a pretty gray and white 8 year old with a friendly face and loud purr. She rubs around, her motor running, head butting my arm and offering sweet little licks. But she doesn’t really alight anywhere, rather she paces, slightly anxious, wary of the other cat noises. Clearly, she needs a comfortable home and people of her own to relax with.

Puff reminds me of another Puff I knew years back. At one point in high school, several friends and I all had elderly or infirm pets at home, and it got to be kind of a running thing between all of us. Streak, Star, Happy, Puff, a shivery toy poodle whose name I’ve forgotten… My friend’s cat Puff – also sweet, a bit plump, gray – made it the longest, living into her (and our) 20s.

It’s funny how much you can forget about childhood, yet keep crystal clear pictures of your friend’s or the neighbor’s pets.

Moving along, I sit with several more kitties who have gone more than a day without a volunteer visit. Two of our extra shy kitties, Maya and Siren, seem more outgoing than they’ve been, I’m glad to see.

A pair of young women (not clear to me if they’re a couple or just pals with an overly charged connection; probably the former) want a young cat that’s not too aggressive. Sweet tabby Nicholas seemed ideal, but one of them thinks he’s too small. They move on, arguing. I think maybe they’re not quite ready to share a pet yet.

Another young duo, definitely just friends, walk around looking in windows and comparing notes about their childhood cats. By which they refer to the recent past, and to cats still residing with their parents.

I feel flooded with nostalgia for a moment. Mostly I don’t miss my early 20s, but what I wouldn’t give to go back briefly to a time when my parents were alive in my childhood home and my own first cat was living there keeping them company.

Relax, This Won't Hurt a Bit - Carrie

Took my boy in to the vet this morning. He was innocence itself at first, letting me push him into the carrier and clip shut its door. He peered out with an expression of increasing alarm before his "what the—hey, where are you taking me" meows turned to anguished cries getting into the car.

But once there, he was reasonably tolerant with the doctor, staff, and even a friendly dog in the lobby. (This was a marked change from my last kitty, who was a third of his size but an unholy terror at the vet’s, and would never in a million years have allowed herself to be unceremoniously hauled room to room tucked under the doctor’s arm.)

He’s the Love Bug personality type – initially shy but sweet and lovey once he’s comfortable with somebody. Maddie’s hallway 2 has a whole row of Love Bugs – little black and white Duchess, gentle all black Beatrice, and a new favorite, Carrie. I sit quietly with each of them, and encourage them to try a few licks of food. (Montana had been scared and not eating when he was at the shelter, something which amused the vet after he weighed in at 19 pounds.)

Carrie’s a sweet long haired super soft 2 year old tortie, barely visible at first. But once I sit posing no threat, she pokes her head then body out with a series of expressive cries. She rubs and purrs as I pet her, but stays alert and a bit nervous. She chases a toy too before winding around for more petting. Meeting my eye, she lurches up to rest her paws on my shoulder and nuzzle my hair.

I’m sorry to leave her, but there are more cats to see and people to help. Unfortunately she goes back to hiding once I’ve left. Friendly twelve year old Pookie, a short hair tortie down the hall, does a better job of selling herself, sitting up at her window and rubbing her head toward passersby.

I talk to a man who lost his 15 year old cat this summer and is just starting to look around, and a couple hoping to find a kitten who won’t make noise at night. I’m afraid I’m more helpful to the former. Some things are pretty much in a young cat’s nature.

I’m disappointed to see Bruno, the charming soft black and white boy, back. Guessing he had trouble getting along with a resident cat; he’s kind of an attention grabber. He’s sweet and affectionate and playful with me, and stands at his door meowing and seeking someone else to bond with after I go. Probably he’s a delight to take to the vet.

Happy Endings - Thomas

It’s a dreary day, baseball season is over and I’m kind of tempted to sneak off to Hawaii in the manner of our missing Mayor. Off to the shelter in the drizzle instead. There have been some signs about a missing cat in my neighborhood, sad signs with handwritten notes saying he’s probably scared and hungry. Today another note scratched across says "He’s Home!!"

I’m cheered up and hoping for a similarly happy ending to Thomas’ long stay at Maddie’s. He’s a good boy, a solid 10 year old white and gray with this cute little gray line under his chin, like a feline hipster soul patch. He's got an under control heart condition, but you wouldn't know it to see him racing around his condo. He’s friendly, but not overwhelmingly needy, and they suggest he’d do best as the only cat in the house.

A mom and daughter come by, exclaiming over how big he is. (Thomas looks normal to me, but I’ve gotten used to my super sized cat. He does have a good sized sturdy head.) They continue along, squeezing together to review each cat, talking excitedly.

Several cats haven’t had visitors for two or three days, so the volunteers have lots to do even without very many potential adopters on hand. I meet several half grown kittens with a range of personalities from super feisty calico Cheeka to adorable and relaxed to the point of floppiness sisters Lily and Sally. Another trio entertain passersby with a play fight of scrabbling legs and ferocious neck bites. No hissing though, and moments later they’re sitting side by side washing their paws.

I sit across the hall with sweet shy Amanda, a small 2 year old black and white long hair girl. A pair of young men pause and one of them wags his fingers by the window to be chased. But they move on, only looking mildly interested. Soon the kittens are sprawled out napping, the smallest one with her paws extended as though about to dive into a pool.

I coax Amanda into my lap, wishing she could relax as easily. As I watch, a staff person clips up Adoption Pending tag for one of the kittens. At least one more happy ending today.

Trick or Treat - Tony

Happy Halloween. Midday the day before there are a fair number of costumed people in the Mission, kids and adults both. Plus the usual assortment of those for whom it’s hard to tell. Hey, some people like glitter… or uniforms. (Me too actually – the boyfriend and I will be attending a party later as the Northwest Airlines pilots who overshot the airport. Those dudes are scary!)

Anyway, I get to Maddie’s just before it opens, and already a small crowd has gathered. The first person to approach me asks to see a kitten without being more specific or having looked around at all. That’s a bit worrisome, so I’m just as glad when we’re waylaid by a staffer. Apparently this guy is a serial adopt and returner, and she hustles him off for a preemptive chat.

I head for my boy Tony, the friendly 5 year old dark tabby. He greets me with a happy cry, and squirms around for petting. He does this thing when he’s really getting into his head being rubbed – pokes the little pink tip of his tongue out bit by bit. It’s really cute, if fairly undignified, but he doesn’t mind my laughing at him. Next he plays for awhile, then curls solidly onto my lap, where I eventually have to roll him off to head for the next kitty.

Across the hall is Marble, a new and lovely half grown tabby with a gorgeous face and striking markings. An older man walks slowly down the hall. He looks stately until he catches Marble’s eye; next thing I know he’s squatting by the door cooing googly talk and waving his fingers for her.

I help an older woman who’s got specific criteria in mind plus lots of time to spend on her search, an ideal Maddie’s cat shopper. Often such a person will either end up with the number one cat they meet (in this case a sweet little black and white girl named Bisque) or else someone totally different from what they thought they wanted.

In hallway 2, I hang with two different affection eaters. Shadow is a pretty, all gray tailless girl from the Sido program (her previous owner is ill or has died). She’s initially shy but willing to rub around, and manages to eat some kibble when offered piece by piece. Next door is Jax, a beautiful young and energetic orange tabby who doesn’t look like he’d have a care in the world. I’m surprised by both how nervous and affectionate he is once I’m in with him. He does gobble down a bite or two, but that’s all. There’s more going on with this pretty boy than meets the eye.

Back out front on my way out, I spot the woman I met earlier. She’s decided on Bisque. I wish them both well, and head off for the holiday weekend.

Moving Day - Bruno

You know when the animal shelter seems like an oasis of calm that it’s pretty chaotic at work. Our big office move is this weekend. It’s been a crazy week, even with the recession allowing a move to a bigger space and the miracle of craigslist enabling us to get rid of all kinds of crap from old cords to gigantic cabinets. It’s weird walking through the mostly empty space, knowing we have to set up elsewhere new next week.

Not to anthropomorphize, but all the animals at Maddie’s are dealing with this sort of shake up too, upheaval without even any say in the matter. They’re coping as well as they can, some more successfully than others.

I show pretty tabby Tony, a friendly old hand who’s been here too long. But the guy is here to learn about volunteering rather than ready to adopt. Tony enjoys the company anyway; he’s learned to press up to his window in search of potential visitors.

At the end of hallway 5 is one of my new favorites, Bruno. Another volunteer has scrawled "I heart Bruno" on his kennel card, and who doesn’t, what a sweet boy. He’s a 2 year old chubby cheeked black and white fellow, who’s cheerful and gets along well with his roomies. He’s pretty mellow on his own, but puts up patiently with the antics of a kitten and a frisky fluffy torbie who keeps mock attacking. I whisper that he’s a good boy, and soon he’ll have a nice permanent home.

I hang out with Nana and Changa, a new bonded pair. They’re adorable tabby siblings, she short haired brown and he long hair and more gray. Changa’s a bit more outgoing, arching up onto his hind legs to be petted, while Nana hangs back rubbing my arm and offering nervous little licks to my hand. They cope with the stress here by cuddling together.

Later, I’m in with sweet little Lily in hallway 4, when I see big lanky Luigi stroll by out in the hall. There was a young couple just here. It’s not supposed to happen, but sometimes people will crack the doors a bit to say hi to the cats. Or possibly he’s learned to open his door – that happens with the occasional Maddie’s resident too, particularly those clever and long legged.

In any case, I try unsuccessfully to herd him back. He’s polite but determined to have his outing, and I end up lifting him and hauling him back before anyone opens the outer hall door. I stay and visit with him. He’s pretty pleased with himself, purring but still a bit restless and eyeing the door. After awhile he settles onto my lap, sitting tall but leaning heavily onto my chest, his head tucked under my chin. Who can blame him for wanting a change of scenery?

Firm Foundations - Midas

All the news stories about Loma Prieta bring to mind a dear long departed cat. (Ok, so do lots of things.) But 20 years ago, 5:04pm, I was backing up my computer at work. Dove under the desk for the eternal 15 seconds of shaking, then made my way home on foot, walking down Mission past the rubble South of Market, plumes of smoke in the distance and crazy rumors about bridge collapses passed from peoples’ car radios on the street. (Remember? No cell phones.)

And when I finally made it home, my little Pepe was at the door, greeting me with her usual enthusiastic rubs and meowing for dinner, reassuring me that things would be ok. Except for the power being out, you couldn’t tell the quake had even happened at my apartment. It wasn’t till I got hold of my parents back east that I understood what a big deal the whole thing was. Anyway, Pepe was a sweet and friendly little tabby girl, one of the nicest cats I’ve ever known.

Over at Maddie’s, I’m pleased to see that MeiMei and Katrina found homes this week. But Chloe and Midas are still there. I at least get the chance to show Chloe to a friendly pair of young women. They pet her and play with her, but they’ve already pretty much decided on an adorable little calico.

I’m surprised Midas hasn’t been snapped up – she’s so pretty and chatty. She’s a 5 year old torbi with a lovely expressive face and a positive attitude. She meows a few times before hoping onto my lap, eyeing passersby before slowly relaxing as if to spend the afternoon there. It’s nice to sit peacefully, with this sweet purring kitty cuddled next to me.

Across the hall, newcomer Anastasia really needs some counseling. She’s a super shy, all black 10 year old, who’s hiding fully under her rug. I sit still and talk to her for awhile, then slowly lure her out. At first she just sits, purring but immobile while I pet her, then finally she slinks around the room and has a bite to eat. I feel bad straightening out her rug, but I want potential adopters to be able to see her.

A few people wander by, but no one stops. Over in hallway 5, I meet Jensen, a frisky young long hair tabby and white boy. He’s perky and well adjusted, especially since he’s missing a hind leg. It’s hard to even tell until he walks, which he manages quite well, if a bit awkwardly. His front paws are big and strong. He’s a little nervous about unexpected noises, but otherwise friendly and playful.

When I glance in at Anastasia later, she’s back under her rug. Poor thing, she’s less well grounded even than the three legged kitty.

Too Close to Home – Xanthor & Tanya

We interrupt the annual rant about how much I despise the Blue Angels flying over the city with more bad news from the SFSPCA. Another round of layoffs, this hitting the frontline staff and impacting Maddie’s hours – now closed Mondays and opening other weekdays at 1pm.

Stats on unemployment go out the window when it’s people you used to see regularly. Hooray that a total fiscal melt down was averted and stocks are headed back up, but real people are still reeling.

And different sad news – friends lost a dear sweet dog earlier in the week. Here came more perspective, because I regularly talk to people who’ve recently had their pet put down, but strangers’ sad stories pale compared to when you’ve cuddled with the deceased. This hit home too, reminding me of losses of my own.

Still, that painful time is only a fraction of the happy years one shares with a pet. In I go to Maddie’s as usual, ever hopeful of making good matches. I have a nice time socializing with Xanthor and Tanya, a 9 year old bonded pair.

They’re funny in being devoted companions but very different from each other. Xanthor’s a big, lovey, slightly clumsy black and white boy. Tanya’s petite, all gray, and much more cautious. It took all of my first meeting and part of my second before I could lure her out from hiding, but now she’s decided she likes me, and rubs then rolls, all spaghetti limbed, on the floor beside me. The two of them have been here for awhile, and I keep hoping someone will come in search of an older pair.

A young woman’s looking for another kitten as a companion to her first. We check out several, while she texts back and forth with her rather opinionated boyfriend. (I can’t help thinking an actual phone conversation would be simpler, but maybe I’m too old to catch the nuances.)

A more mature couple who recently lost their independent minded 17 year old come looking for someone new. The woman tells me they’re interested in a more friendly, cuddly kitty, though they don’t have a particular type in mind. I can tell they’ll be good cat parents, and I show several sweet and friendly ones.

The woman does most of the talking and interacting, but from observing them, I suspect the man will be the final arbiter. Happily, I don’t see them going wrong with any of several choices. She explains that they’re hoping to choose a cat today but not bring it home until after the weekend. They live in North Beach, and the Blue Angels pretty much buzz their place, which would make for a difficult introduction to the place for a new feline resident.

Can I say it now? They waste resources, scare sensitive animals and people represent violence… even if one can justify it from the tourist income to the city, the planes shouldn’t come so close to our homes and workplaces!

Making Noise - Katrina

Feels like one of those weekends when I want to keep it quiet about the Bay Area. Bright autumn sun shining over a massive and fabulous free concert, the last baseball games plus local football, the usual festivals, farmers’ markets, restaurants and upscale performing arts, even a pinball exposition… to which I’m tempted to say: shhh, let’s keep it to ourselves.

Lots of cats went home in the last couple weeks, yay. But that doesn’t mean the shelter is empty. I show some kittens, then settle in with sweet sonic-purr Chloe, all alone in her condo. But soon she has company, getting transferred to the big front windowed condo, the first one you see coming into Maddie’s.

I move on to see Midas, a gorgeous 5 year old brown tabby with tan highlights and big wide eyes. She moves toward my lap cautiously, and as we sit together, a loud cheerful couple enter the hall. They’re kind of retro 80s looking, jeans and cowboy boots (or maybe they just found the look back then and stuck with it).

Anyway, they exclaim over the cats, tapping on the windows, and calling each other over to for a look. Midas slinks into my lap a bit, but puts her head up in a friendly way when the woman looks in. Katrina, a large 10 year old dil calico, gets excited by the commotion and starts pawing her door. She stays right there, riled up, even as the woman yells, "Hey, her name’s Katrina!" to her companion.

They don’t want to meet her though, and move on. Pretty Katrina calms down while I visit with her. She’s a big plump girl with a somewhat small head, dainty feet, and a friendly purr. She wanders around the condo, rubbing, plotting her escape. She hasn’t been eating much, still a bit nervous in her surroundings. She needs her own people to give her extra attention and encourage her to exercise.

After awhile, three tough looking city kids come slouching through the halls, also on the noisy side, exclaiming over the size of several of the adult cats. One guy accompanies another volunteer in to meet a frisky calico. The others amuse themselves strolling up and down the hall, whisking a dangle toy under doors and laughing as the cats chase it.

I wonder if their loud voices and brisk movements will scare the cats, but soon they’re lined up at their doors, eagerly watching. Even shy Tanya is pretty interested in the proceedings.

The guys are still there when I leave, still loud and enthusiastic about the cats. Sometimes that’s what it takes.

Home at Last - Jeremy & Luigi

The boyfriend and I took a long weekend camping trip in Yosemite. A month ago making plans, I’d wondered about closures and cold at the higher elevations, but it was lovely up there, ideal hiking weather even at 9000 feet.

I’d been hoping to squeeze in a shelter shift before or after, but work and the mess at home interfered. Nice thing about a volunteer position – the work is important but missable, and I know there are other volunteers around every day at Maddie’s.

Checking the website, I see that Jeremy and Luigi still haven’t been adopted. They’re a shy bonded pair, both sweet boys. They don’t much like all the activity at the shelter, but I think they’d blossom in a quiet household. Cats like their routines and living in a secure place. The cautious ones in particular can act different in the shelter than when they’re relaxed at home, I regularly tell people.

This little trip disrupted things for our cats. My boy Montana (and by the way, I chose that name at least a year before the mayor did!) gets lonely and hungry, but he’s quick to forgive me once I’m back. He followed me room to room, and tried to squeeze onto my lap, despite the heat, whenever I sat down.

He’s quite the change from my former kitty, who recognized/became annoyed when I started packing, flat out refused to interact with anyone who came to feed her, and upon my return bounced between near hysterical crying and none too subtle expressions of displeasure (pointedly turning her back to me or sniffing at hiking boots and hissing). Then again, I never worried about her running out of food, being a nibbler who rarely made it to the bottom of her dish… unlike Montana, who happily eats what’s in front of him, not at all getting the concept that twice as much food should last twice as long.

The boyfriends cats, Emmy (formerly Emily, adopted 2001) and Allie (formerly Annie, 2006) are both more independent. Sure, they miss him and miss being fed at the right time, but they both have their regular business to attend to. They go into frenzy when he gets home, but it’s short lived. A bowl of kibble, some cuddling on the couch, and they’re pretty much back to normal.

Although both of them do monitor his movements. They both know the sound of his car, and on occasions when I’m there and he’s not, Emmy will stand vigil when she expects him, crouched on the arm of the couch, ears perked. Which is sweet but sad if he doesn’t show up.

Anyway, the long hours outdoors were nice, but it’s good to be home and showered with feline affection. Makes me think of the shelter kitties, all of them longing for their own people to wait for and welcome back home.

Part of the Solution - Meimei

I’m disappointed to see that Mitten, the sweet faced 10 year old tabby, is back after a few months. (There were problems with the resident cat.) And pretty orange Sharyn, another 10 year old, just got returned. At least both of them are perky and attentive to visitors, good get-adopted behavior.

Speaking of – new kitties Seal (lanky gray and white) and Chloe (soft plump dil tortie), a non-bonded pair, are super happy to have a human in their condo. Chloe has about the loudest sustained purring I’ve heard from a cat; the two of them have a purring contest and she wins. He squirms around on my lap for petting while she flops beside me, paws in the air, still purring like a jet liner.

There’s a rush of people, singles and couples, mostly interested in kittens. Fortunately there are several volunteers today. An older fellow has just lost his companion – he’s not ready to adopt but just wants to see who’s around. He clearly needs to be around some cats, and his grief is palpable.

I help a young woman who has a toddler and another cat at home. She checks out several youngsters, and I’m relieved that she decides on a gentle 4 month old rather than a younger and more hyper pair.

The crowd thins as suddenly as it appeared, and I’m back to socializing visits. I hang out with Meimei, a delightful 4 year old tortie "love bug" (shy but extra affectionate). She hides for about thirty seconds before diving into my lap, kneading and purring and pushing her nose into my hand for faster pets. She’s distinctive and pretty, green eyed with lots of tannish orange mottled fur on her back and little white spots on her chest and one set of toes.

Sitting quietly here, as other volunteers and staff go about their business, I reflect for a moment on the recent investigative piece that was so critical of the changes in SF SPCA policies. I’m glad, first off, for journalists researching and digging into a story… our city would certainly be worse off without an active media presence. The focus seemed mostly to be dogs, and I have little first hand knowledge of the dogs coming and going (or not) at Maddie’s. Count me in as someone who was proud of SF’s no kill policy and wishes it was a current and universal thing.

But coming here weekly, I can say definitively that nobody ‘s hankering to put down any animal. And I’m pretty sure that the board members years back didn’t factor in the biggest economic downturn in half a century in their timeline for launching a grand new animal hospital.

Guess I would hope that anyone quick to condemn decisions made is also on the front lines giving time or money or both to better the situation for homeless animals. (Don’t have money because the job’s gone, have to work extra hours because the younger kid’s college expenses are through the roof? Maybe we all would have made some different decisions with foresight.) Anyway, there are a couple of sweet ten year olds here who need people with extra dedication to animals.

Eight Years Later - Kincaid

Off to the shelter on 9-11. The weather here feels like the weather there then; I was back east on vacation that day eight years ago (Worst Vacation Ever). Stood on the beach talking to people from the DC area worried about friends.

At Maddie’s, I’m happy to see that three long time kitties, Sharyn, Ernie and Applesauce, have found homes. A lot more where they came from, though.

I hang out with mellow Kincaid, a handsome, dark, long limbed 9 year old tabby. He’s affectionate with people but uncomfortable around other animals, and needs to be an only pet. He rubs around while I pet him, then sits in front of me, staring up while I coo at him, before sinking to a comfortable lounging spot. He seems a bit listless, like he doesn’t want to get too close, knowing I’ll soon leave, poor sweet guy.

Next up, Scooter, a precious soft all black 13 year old, with a bossy, squawky meow. She’s a young 13, small and delicate on her feet, and pleased to have company. She purrs and rubs too. But she hasn’t been eating – there are four full food dishes in her condo, three of them different types of wet food. She’ll deign to eat if I fish out tiny fingerfulls for her to lick, so we proceed like that for awhile. I’m sure she just needs a normal routine to get comfortable eating. Finally, she steps across my lap and settles slowly onto my left leg, glancing back as if to say that I’ll do, I’ve passed her inspection.

I’m across the hall when a young couple pause outside Scooter’s window. They’re a cute contrast, like Burning Man now meets Valencia Street 1980s. I offer to show her, talking up her attributes. But they explain that they’re still debating – the long haired woman wants an older cat, but the short haired one wants a kitten. I have a feeling the kitten will win out – after all, time passes and the kitten will (hopefully) become an older cat but it doesn’t work the other way.

Towards the end of my shift I explain the shelter’s layout and procedures to a middle aged woman who’s teary eyed just contemplating all the homeless kitties. Stories spill out of her fast, as if she’s not used to being listened to, about how she misses her cat that was stolen, what he was like, how therapeutic he could be.

She is so different from me/my world that I have to beat back the impulse to pass judgment. She tours the hallways, and settles on a sweet young gray kitty who’s recently arrived from Lake County. The woman has kind of a dog person mannerism toward the cat, but they seem pleased with each other. The kitty is bouncy and playful, and at least tolerant of being scooped up and kissed.

She says need to take this girl home even though she still desperately misses the other cat. But we both know that time can help heal.

Fun at Home - Clarissa

Well, the fog finally rolled in early this morning. I know because my Montana, who dislikes a too warm flat, got uncharacteristically frisky. He charged up and down the hall a couple times then came to stand right next to my head, giving a delighted squawk when I cracked open an eye to meet his.

It’s brisk and comfortable walking towards the shelter, in case I need more incentive to stay put over the long weekend. (Wildfires, bridge closures, a happy cat at home, why leave?)

I’m pleased to note that Lexie and little Kiwi were recently adopted. Plus a very charming trio of friendly all black siblings got taken together. Hats off to that generous adopter, who I’m sure will have years of fun with those cool kitties. We still have several bonded pairs here though, and I make a point of stopping to check in on Jeremy and Luigi and the Liddys, Big and Little.

A number of cats have gone two or three days without a volunteer visit, so there are plenty of cats to see. I enjoy interacting with charming Clarissa, who reminds me a bit of my boy. She’s a 7 year old long hair black and white, a little cautious but mostly in-your-face friendly (a "Personal Assistant"). Her picture is cute, but doesn’t do her justice; she’s prettier and slimmer in person, with a thick, soft, luxurious coat.

She’s chatty and loves to be petted, and clearly would enjoy being brushed – a good thing with all that fur. As I stroke her, she accidentally dips her tail into her water dish, then swishes it around, not bothered in the least.

Must be a day to get wet. My next visit is with Echo, a sweet and chunky Russian Blue girl across the hall. She’s so excited by having company that she purrs and rubs and drools all at the same time. Close to a ten on a one to ten drooling scale – but for anyone who thinks it’s cute, what a winner. I’ve been around cats like that, and they do calm down after awhile. But she’s still pretty pumped up when I move on.

There are a few people walking around, mostly just observing the cats and moving at a fast pace. A very young couple who look like high schoolers, but probably are on their own, debate the merits of cute little Cupcake. But they wander away, not ready to meet her.

Things pick up toward the end of my shift, and I point three different couples to the kitten hallways. (Maddie’s has fewer teensy kittens, but still plenty of kittens under six months available. ) There are several volunteers on hand, so I take off knowing they’re in good hands.

Outside at the bus stop on 16th, I see a woman with a telltale shelter cardboard box waiting for the 22. Pretty clear how she’ll be spending her weekend. And pretty hard to imagine a better one.

Furry Friends - Lexie

A friend is pet-sitting a chinchilla. Actually she’s briefly watching him for her sister, who’s taking care of him for the duration of her in-laws’ kitchen renovation; Sammy’s making the rounds. Anyway, he’s a little round gray fluff ball with floppy ears, teensy little paws, and a cute, if jumpy manner.

She’d told me he likes to be scratched behind the ears. While my impulse was to wonder if a jittery rodent would really even notice, I gave it a try. He loved it, leaning into my fingers and softly shutting his eyes. Pets are mesmerizing!

I arrive at Maddie’s with renewed enthusiasm for furry creatures big and small – and am rewarded by making the acquaintance of 5 year old Lexie, a gorgeous and loving lynx point mix. She’s shy, hiding when I open her door, but I soon coax her out for some petting. Her face is striking, tabby markings with huge dilated blue eyes. She’s got soft tan faintly striped sides and dark tabby striped paws and tail.

She’s chinchilla soft too (now that I have a basis for comparison). She purrs happily, rubs, rolls on her side, and in every way shows me her favorite ways to be stroked. She retreats again when I leave, but flatters me by creeping up onto her perch to be able to watch me as I interact with Blitzen, a frisky tan and white boy across the hall.

A grandmother, mom and little boy in a batman shirt go by, reading each name and solemnly admiring the cats. A couple different young moms with babies in arms wander through, all just here to entertain the kids.

A very young man and his out of town girlfriend want to check out kittens. He says he’s lonely in his apartment, and I’m guessing he’s not long away from dorm life. We visit an adorable foursome of tabby kittens, and after playing with them for awhile he decides to take the two feistiest, a brother and sister.

Part of me wants to caution him, say what a huge responsibility this will be, does he have any idea how long 15 or more years is to take care of these cats? But the reality is he knows he wants a pet. I’ve nearly always had cats even in my wilder days; for lots of us pets will invariably be part of our lives. So I happily send them all off to their new life together.

Learning to be Brave - Sharyn

It’s audit week at my paid job, so a few hours without numbers or scurrying around in search of obscure financial docs are particularly nice. Especially with tabby cats involved.

Maddie’s hallway 2 offers a fine variety of these pretty cats. Bernie and Nicholas are cute, playful, skinny young brown tabbies with white bellies and paws. They look like brothers but are just pals who hang out and mostly get along ok.

At the end of the hall is little Sharyn, a delicate, sweet faced, slightly fussy ten year old orange gal with a white bib and toes. She’s been here for awhile, and gone from being shy to a bit demanding of attention from passersby. She meows, circles, purrs, and rubs around me. Definitely trying to get a message across, though I can’t tell if it’s about taking her home or just bringing her some kibble.

A group of adults and kids tumble into the hall, startling her for a moment, but she quickly regains her composure. The kids aren’t very interested in or sensitive about their surroundings, and one of them whines loudly to go see puppies. Sharyn barely gives them a glance, and bats a toy around instead, meowing as she plays. Across the hall, young Nicholas stands up, paws on his window, watching us intently.

Next up is Chester, a funny, short limbed, cuddly brown tabby. He loves visitors and wants to swoon across my lap, chase a toy, and nibble his food all at the same time. A pair of nannies holding up toddlers appear at the window. I dangle the toy up there so he’ll go after it, and his antics amuse the kids. Although they’re also pretty fascinated by the cat video squirrels on the TV too. They soon leave, one of the young women exclaiming that it’s time for a diaper change, as if that’s all part of their fun day.

Two different pairs of men stroll by, reading about the cats and discussing size and breeds and markings – but none of them want to meet any of the cats in question.

Not a problem – gives me extra time to get to know a new sweet little orange tabby girl, Kiwi. She’s super scared, and gives a tiny hiss when I enter her room. But soon pokes her head out, and when she decides I’m ok, creeps trustingly into my lap and leans there sweetly. She darts away to hide at pretty much any noise, but I can tell she’ll get braver as the days go by. Sharyn could give her a lesson. I just sit and wait for her to reappear, and enjoy the peace and quiet.

Family Ties - The Liddys

Happily, my time away wasn’t entirely devoid of feline companionship - although I dislike being away from my boy, and missed seeing the shelter kitties. We stayed at a ranch with a super friendly pair of barn cats who were eager for any attention they could get.

The family gathering peaked at 21 relatives, ranging in age from 5 to 92. Getting us all on the road for expedition was like herding cats indeed. But I got a good chance to move at kid time, where each moment must be filled with doing something – playing, sudden boredom, a new game, a made up twist on the game… Fortunately none of the parents are the hovering sort, and were quite happy to have those for whom play time is a novelty hang with the kids. We even found a game of Twister, which the younger ones had never heard of, and found hugely entertaining.

Still, I also like the feline pace of finding a sunny spot to lounge, enjoying a fine meal, running around a bit then chilling for awhile. So it’s good to be home. Back at Maddie’s, it was nice to see that several longer term cats found homes. Plus kitten season seems finally to be slowing a bit, at least to the point where I wasn’t besieged to show a kitten upon arrival.

I’m immediately charmed by a bonded pair of 4 year old litter mates, Little Liddy and her brother Big Liddy. Little is almost all black, small of course, and slightly more assertive. She commands my lap right away. Big is a good sized black and white boy, yellow eyed and precious, and lounges happily next to me. They both purr and gaze up sweetly. They’re good natured, confident cats, pleased with both my and each other’s company, and very much at home with each other in a comfortable family way. Big plays in a goofy way, chasing a toy and toppling off his climbing structure in the process. Little prefers chewing on things with a bit more dignity.

Next door are another bonded pair, all black Luigi and pretty tabby Jeremy. These two are a bit more shy, though they warm up quickly. They wander around nudging my hands for petting and bumping heads in a friendly way. As I sit with them a couple kids, clearly siblings from both appearance and behavior, run up to the window. Hands and noses pressing the glass, they giggle at the cats and casually shove at each other in a probably unconscious ritualistic way.

Their mom moves them along, one hand per available shoulder. I whisper to the cats that they’re lucky to have each other and to stick together. Either of these pairs would make fine additions to a family.

Weathering Storms - Charlie

Got a "dear volunteer" letter earlier in the week. Several paragraphs of recession and low interest rates and difficult decisions, to reach the point: layoffs on the SPCA staff. Big bummer, although not a real surprising one. I can’t think of a friend who hasn’t been dealing with something similar at work, big and small, nonprofit and for. The upshot for a lot of us is doing more work for the same pay and lesser benefits.

I guess I’m glad that things don’t seem noticeably tense when I get there. It’s tough on everyone, I well know. But the needs here haven’t changed, there are still plenty of homeless animals. And a good number of people looking for pets today too.

I take a young woman in to meet Cissy, a pretty and playful little dill tortie. Not sure if she really wants to adopt or is just getting out of the house, but they interact nicely.

Next door is a new pair, a shy long hair tortie, and Prika, a uniquely beautiful girl with a sweet personality to boot. She’s soft with mottled pale gray, pale tan, and white fur, and large blue eyes. She purrs loudly and loves to be petted. Unfortunately, the two girls aren’t very comfortable with each other and both hiss when they get near each other. I stroke them, one on each side, and peace is achieved.

Of the many perks of volunteering here, getting acquainted with an outgoing one-of-a-kind sweetie is a good one. But so is visiting a classic brown tabby who happens to be shy. Charlie’s such a pretty boy, but super cautious. He’s the kind of cat who really rewards you when you gain his trust. At first I just sit near him, talking softly. Then a hand sniff. Some rubs behind the ears. Finally he ventures out and slinks around the room, and enjoys a nice petting session. He makes good eye contact, and I admire his expressive yellow eyes and long sturdy tail.

That’s it for the quiet time though – a bunch of people want to see kittens. I end up showing the same room of six, including the aptly named Tornado and Tsunami, to several people. Typical two month old kittens, either roaring with energy and charging around or collapsed in adorable rag doll sleeping poses.

A lone woman tests out each of the six before telling me she’s leaning toward little Tsunami. Then a guy and his buddy check them out. He’s got an older cat and a mellow dog at home already, and wants a kitten who can hold her own, and he favors Tsunami too.

A couple with a polite and cat savvy boy are next. They each pick a different favorite, laughing about their lack of consensus, but it’s clear they all like all the kittens. I tell all kitten shoppers that the cute active kittens get adopted fast, but that there will be more available as space opens up.

I'm headed east for a family reunion, so I'll miss the kitties next week, even the rambunctious little ones...

One Small Step - Luigi

Can it possibly be 40 years since the moon landing? My memories are blurry as the images on the small black and white TV screen we gathered around to watch, but I do recall the sense of amazement, and the unity of the shared experience. Whole families went outside that night to stare up at the moon.

The TVs in the cat condos are fancier than what we watched back then. But for all the technology now, I wouldn’t trade the wonder of having lived through that era.

Speaking of low gravity, I’ve got a customer wanting to meet kittens as soon as I arrive at Maddie’s, an older woman who’s recently lost an old cat. We squeeze in with three goofy two month olds. As she coos and tries to draw out a shy little black and white girl, the more active brother launches himself onto my leg and starts climbing my jeans as if I’m a tree. The third kitten bounces between us, emitting teensy squeaks.

She needs to think it over, and I urge her to take her time, that this is a big commitment. Then a young couple specifically want a gray cat. I show them a newly arrived gorgeous but shy Himalayan mix, who purrs, cries, and hides all at the same time. Not helping her own cause and too timid for them, but she’s young and cute and I expect her to get snapped up soon.

I hang out with Luigi, the more mellow guy next door. He’s a dignified, lanky black and white 8 year old, with large eyes and a soulful expression. He leans on me, rubbing, as I talk to him, and circles around to also rub across my back. But my voice has alerted the cat in the adjoining condo that there’s a human nearby, and he starts up a loud chorus of meows.

Their window is blocked, but the sound carries. I go silent and just pet Luigi, who stares back at me, seeming a bit put upon, but understanding. He’s a smart guy. He’s just waiting for the right person to come along, take that first step with him.

Around the corner, I check out the noise maker. There are two charming cats housed together, both striking looking but of mismatched temperaments. Hunter is the loud guy. He’s a pretty long haired tabby, newly arrived, and bound and determined to tell the world all about it.

His roomie is Chaka, a darling long hair orange Persian mix. She’s clearly a princess, despite her little ET face. She steps delicately across my lap and graciously accepts my petting and admiration. But when Hunter, who’s also eager for attention, steps too close, she hisses and bats him away. We all know who’s boss here, so I coax Hunter away and pet him on the sly.

A young woman asks to meet Chaka, but as she’s getting acquainted, a staffer hurries in to say that someone else is starting the process to adopt her. The woman leaves, disappointed, but this is good news for both cats. I look back over at Luigi, who’s sitting patiently on a small cushion. He’s more average looking and sounding, but I know he’ll make someone a good companion.

Summer School - Penelope

I show up a bit worse for wear from having been out late at my workplace fundraiser (successful event, but pretty exhausting for staff). Not displeased at a quiet start to my shift.

I hang out with Monkey. She’s an all around swell cat, and really does seem younger than her age. She’s friendly, chatty, and even bats at the toy I wave around for her. Elsewhere in the hall, Kincaid and Teyana are content with simple petting and lap lounging.

After an hour or so, I’m refreshed and ready for the less bridled energy of active cats and visiting children. I meet Penelope, a darling little 3 year old skittish all black girl. She launches herself on and off my lap, squirming and rubbing, almost dancing around. A couple children enter the hall, then a couple more, and I realize it’s not a big family but another school group on tour.

The first ones see me inside the condo (awesome as a human in a zoo, their expressions indicate), and soon a bunch of them gather at the door, noses pressed to it, jaws dropping flatteringly. I move the dangle toy so that Penelope chases it right in front of them, and they giggle with delight. Penelope doesn’t seem at all bothered by this rapt audience, and alternates between playing and winding herself around me affectionately.

Even though the kids’ visit is just educational, I like seeing the school groups here. Not only are they clearly enthralled, one or two of them might just decide to return at some point with parents in tow. Penelope seems like a good candidate to mature along with an active family.

On my way out, I stop to admire some pictures tacked up near the volunteer station. People who’ve adopted sometimes send in stuff about the cats they brought home, and Tugboat’s new family has sent several pictures. He looks enormously happy, along with just enormous – and my day is officially made.

Petty Theft - Monkey

High drama at Maddie’s this week. A tiny black partially blind kitten was stolen sometime Wednesday afternoon. They checked the security cameras but couldn’t locate a perp. Local media were contacted, and apparently it was a slow news day, because the story got coverage. Facebook missives are circulating too.

I guess we all hope the thief just didn’t want to pay the adoption fee. Volunteers were told that if the kitten is turned in, to just accept it, no questions asked. Unfortunately, it’s not the first kitten theft.

Many years back, these were apparently more common, so they started locking the kittens in their cages. This made for a cumbersome process to show the kittens, with volunteers needing to check out a key and tangle with a lock to even get to a kitten. Having them in groups in the condos is nicer for the kittens, and easier for us. But I can see how a theft – at least of a non-meower – could occur. It gets pretty chaotic in the kitten area, even with volunteers around. And there are times when volunteers and staffers are not on hand.

And yes, I see the irony.

I’m pleased to learn that Baby’s gone home. Older guy Felix is still here, though, chatty and sweet as ever. He’s lounging happily on my lap when a massive group of kids, 30 or so, all with polka dot bandannas, crowd into hallway 5. They’re from a school, touring the place. Good kids, quiet and attentive. Felix chooses to ignore them, however, and looks up at me to make sure I focus on petting him.

The tour guide points out the TVs in some of the condos, and the back wall of windows that some lucky cats like Felix have. She says there’s a guy who comes in the morning and practices Tai Chi with the cats all watching.

I go down the hall to see Starbuck. He’s a precious skinny little 2 year old orange tabby, a "love bug" boy. I think of the Battlestar Galactica character, but he’s nothing like her, he’s shy and sweet. He accepts some head rubbing and cautiously hops down. I gently pull him into my lap, and he’s so nervous at first that he stays right where he landed. But then he relaxes, purring, guiding my hand with his head for maximum behind the ears petting.

Of course then he wants to stay permanently glued to my lap, and I have to tempt him with the remains of his breakfast to manage to stand up again. What a sweetie. This hall is full of tabbies – beautiful 16 (!) year old Monkey, frisky 9 year old Kincaid, and tiny kittenish Abigail all nose their doors, waiting for company. We're all hoping the charming and outgoing Monkey finds herself a good home fast. She's wonderful company.

There are a few people walking around, most in the "just looking" phase. A mother and daughter stay for a good hour or more, checking out a bunch of cats, pretty pleased with every one of them. And they’re just narrowing it down for other family members to come tomorrow.

I poke my head into the kitten hall on my way out. Except for some scrambling around, all quiet.

Cat Heaven - Gretle

I head to Maddie’s the day before the long weekend, later in the day than normal, and the place is fairly crowded. There’s even a cute wiggly puppy out on the front counter with a handler armed with hand sanitizer ready to squirt potential cuddlers.

During my first lull, I check in on Gretle, a sweet, slightly plump 9 year old tortie. She’s classified as an "executive" (ie busy with her own schedule), but she’s been here for several months now, and is increasingly eager for human companionship.

She hops down immediately and rubs around, then flops down in front of me, leaning warmly on my leg while I pet her. Then she has a bite to eat – what she does when she’s happy – and returns to lick my hand then give herself a bath, as if she’s acting out how it would be if we lived together.

Our reverie is interrupted by a boisterous group of adults and kids who want to meet Cadence, five month old bundle of energy to start with, made even more excited by all these people tossing his toys around. He’s got a soft blanket in his condo that says "Tina live in concert 2008," which I later learn was part of donation from concert promoters (Tina being Tina Turner).

A dad and two cute daughters implore me to show them a pair of shy kittens. They’re very excited but are learning appropriate behavior towards animals, and do their best to keep their volume and movements mellow. It’s soon clear from their conversation that actually adopting a kitten is more of a long future prize than something that will happen anytime soon.

The girls tell me about other cats they know, including one that died, whom their father immediately reminds them is now in heaven. This prompts the girls to name others they know in heaven, a list that runs from elderly relatives to recently departed goldfish. Although heaven for me would certainly include pets, I don’t really want to get into a theological discussion with someone else’s six year olds, and I steer the conversation back to the kittens.

I spend the last part of my shift with a pair of cute young women who do want to adopt today. They’ve recently lost an elderly cat and start out saying they want one who’s similar, who’s very cuddly. But in fact they meet and seem drawn to a wide range of cats. I like that they take the process seriously, really paying attention to the cats’ cues and discussing their merits.

The more devoted lap cats tend to be older, but after losing the old cat they don’t want to face that again for a long time. As I’m leaving, they’ve pretty much decided on one of the shy little kittens I was showing earlier. And I’m happy for the little gal – their place probably is pretty close to cat heaven.

Give Me One More Chance - Baby

I don’t drive much during the week, but was in the car Thursday afternoon after a hike with out of town friends. KFOG announced Michael Jackson’s death in a simple sentence and put on "I’ll be there," and I found 280 blurring from a surprisingly strong emotional reaction. I wasn’t a huge fan, but the dude’s songs were a dance track to my social life from second grade to sophomore year to early restaurant jobs in SF.

Not that this has much to do with the homeless animals at Maddie’s, except that Jackson seemed like at his core a shy and gentle person who related well to animals. Quiet/less than conventional people fit in ok here, and cats make fine companions for such people, young and old.

Excellent people to cats ratio these days, with the summer camp in session. Pairs of kids visit the more tolerant cats, as "junior camp counselors" (who look only slightly older than the campers) supervise.

Early in my shift I visit Baby, who’s popular with the volunteers and who craves our company. She was here and got adopted last winter, and I don’t know the circumstances that brought her back. Baby’s a petite little tabby and white princess. She’s super soft, with a good strong purr, and like most mature cats, at 12 she really prefers things done her way.

She hops up to perch on my lap, paws splayed across one leg and then the other, purring and rolling her head back for her ears to be scratched. Baby wants all the attention on her – no shock that her notes say she should be the household’s only cat – and she doesn’t even want me making eye contact with noisy Cally across the hall. But she surprises me by playing quite actively when I pull a toy over and under her little rug. She’s still batting at her toy mouse when I leave her.

Down the hall, I check in on Felix and BoBo. A pair of people are interested in Stoli, a sweet young all gray girl. A staffer cracks her door, and Stoli shoots out into the hall and practically does a victory dance. She’s mighty fast for a chunky little cat. Once she’s corralled, she shows well, rubbing around enthusiastically. They’re enamored, and take down her info.

I glance back in at Baby, who’s settled back down but still eyeing passersby. We just need someone – well, someone else – to take a chance on this precious older gal.

Happy Pride weekend… look for the SPCA contingent in the parade!

Comfort Zone - Felix

It’s been a hectic week – hormone infused one month-till-the-annual-fundraiser and two weeks- till-fiscal-year-end, budget worrying days. My neighborhood is alive with lovely flower blossoms and all I can focus on are the day old Examiners in their non-recycle plastic wrap, lying discarded on the sidewalks. World news is exhausting. Even the lighter stuff seems not so light.

So socializing with the cats at Maddie’s is going to do more for me than for them. I cuddle up with Bobo, a young and pretty orange tabby boy. He’s getting over his initial shyness and purrs loudly, meeting my eyes and blinking his satisfaction.

Across the hall, little Racoon sits at his door watching our every move, waiting his turn. He’s a 7 month old tabby with tight little stripes, a formerly under-socialized kitten who’s half grown and skinny, playful but still wary. He’s got a sweet little purr, and I convince him to let me pet him at least a little before he launches himself after the toys.

But Felix really turns me around. This guy is talkative and loud, a 12 year old tuxedo cat who meows in a fussy way at first, pacing around and fixing me with a Take Me Home stare. But then he decides to chill, and climbs slowly onto my lap, purring and settling gently, quiet and content. Enjoying the moment; wordless sharing his simple cat philosophy with me.

A middle aged couple are looking for a younger male as a companion for their older cat. I put in a good word for Bobo. Some moms and kids, and a pair of college students (Cal sweatshirts and shorts) are wandering around, just looking. Other random singles and couples go up and down the halls, some really studying the animal descriptions and reading parts aloud, others just cruising along, seeming barely interested. There are lots of volunteers around, so everybody’s accommodated.

Toward the end of my shift, a dozen or so young apron clad campers line the main corridor, eagerly waiting their assignments. One little girl is literally jumping around in excitement and others clamor to see the kittens. It’s a small thing we’re doing here at the shelter, all of us, but there’s a good sense of community.

Beam Me Up - Harry

Looks like June’s "Adopt a Shelter Cat Month" [http://www.sfspca.org/promotions/adopt-a-shelter-cat-month.html] is really taking off – Maddie’s is buzzing with activity the whole time I’m there.

I spend a few minutes alone with my new buddy Harry, a charming nine year old Siamese mix with pretty blue eyes. He's very affectionate and a bit drooly. He gets too excited to settle on my lap but rather paces back and forth on it, then puts his paws up on my shoulder and climbs up to drape himself around my neck, front paws flexing in a passable shoulder massage. Cute and relaxing, if a little wet...

Next encounter is with two older gentlemen in hallway 4. The more dynamic one is reading the cats’ descriptions out loud and pointing out how great various of them are. The other shakes his head no to one after another till he halts outside Diamond’s condo. "I’d like to see this one," he tells both of us.

Diamond is a cute little three year old black and white girl, friendly and talkative, just your basic cat. The guy talks cat talk to her for a few minutes, smiling broadly and stroking her, then he tells me that this is his cat.

He’s had cats before. He recently lost one after 18 years. And he knows what he wants; he doesn’t want to see anyone else, this is it, she’s coming home with him now. He heads off to the front, but the friend wants to take a look at Pixie. He has dogs, he explains, but he was just intrigued by her looks.

Pixie is quite striking, a two year old torbie with lovely coloring, and a sweet little round face. One ear tilts to the side like a puppy, and that with her big hooded eyes give her a bit of an ET look. She was shy at first, but she’s gotten more used to her situation here. She can be a bit ornery, but only because she’s clearly used to ruling the roost.

She likes commanding two people’s attention. The man scoops her into his lap for some cuddling, before taking off to find his friend. I pet her in a more dignified fashion. Then eight or nine pre-schoolers come skittering down the hall, excited but regularly hushed by their minders. A bunch of them press up to our window, and Pixie tolerates this just fine, even rubbing her face up toward one awe struck little boy.

Moments later, a woman seeking a companion for her cat at home asks to see several kittens. Hallway 6 is swimming in kittens at this point, five and six to a room, playful and funny little fur balls. We visit a couple different rooms, squeezing in and out to avoid escapes and entertaining the visitors outside with their antics. She mulls over the choices. She says her other cat seems bored. That’s about to change.

I show kittens for awhile; there are plenty of people interested. But I do make it back to finish up my time with little Pixie. She admits in her dainty way to being glad to see me again. I tickle her under her ears and tell her she’s sweet. All the rest of our cats look like cats, but somebody out there is going to prefer the one who kind of resembles a space alien.

Ready & Waiting - Nala & Cleo

Good shelter news: Tugboat has left the building! Mew Mew too, plus several other cats and a host of kittens. Still, there are plenty of cats here needing homes. And it looks like we had a shortage of volunteers earlier in the week, with a bunch of cats having gone two or three days without a socialization visit.

I join a young couple who are giggling at the antics of a tiny pair of kittens in hall 6. When I ask if they want to go in and meet them, they tell me they’re actually interested in adopting a dog but just got sidetracked. Another laughing group seem partly interested in the cats but also into their own conversation. They’re just looking around too.

I spend some extra time with a new feisty foursome in the back of hall 5, Chauncey, Pancat, Dexter, and Muffin. All are young and pretty, the first three outgoing males, and pretty little Muffin a more timid girl. I can’t believe Chauncey has been here more then a day or so – he’s my ideal sort of cat (thanks to my childhood tabby boy), a gorgeous and friendly trim brown tabby who enjoys cuddling and playing both.

Then I meet a new bonded pair, Nala and Cleo, who are 10 and 9 respectively. They have some similarities, like age and some initial shyness, but more differences. It makes me wonder about their back story and how they possibly ended up here. Cleo’s a good sized cream colored long hair, who climbs on and off my lap with head butting enthusiasm. Nala is a smaller short haired bright orange tabby with vivid green eyes. She’s more hesitant; she lets me pet her but she’s easily spooked by any noises out in the hall.

They’ve each got a dish of wet food and a dish of Meow Mix, which tells me they aren’t eating well. Each takes some licks of the wet food while I’m in there petting them, and I encourage them to eat. They purr and rub around nicely, but also meow in a concerned way. Like they’re willing to put up with all this for a while, but are anxious to go back home. As nice a place as Maddie’s is, that sort of behavior is heart rending.

I’m getting ready to visit Tony, another fine looking tabby boy, when I see a lone woman moving quietly along the condos, stopping here and there and really studying the cats. She’s not ready to meet one yet, but everything about her demeanor and pace says she would be good with any of our older, shyer, harder to place kitties.

I’m tempted to follow after her and point them out, but of course I don’t, any more than I would get in the face of a cat who’s not ready for company. Here’s hoping, though.

Someone Else's Loss - Tugboat

It’s not often that I meet a cat who makes my Montana http://www.catster.com/cats/717069 look svelte and pretty – but Tugboat is that guy. He’s massive, a good sized beast to start with, who’s carrying a distressing load of fat. He’s ten, black and white, with an inquisitive funny face and wavy fur on his belly, which I see in all its glory because he’s really into lolling on his back for a belly rub.

Such a sweetie! He’s affectionate but not pushy, and seems well adjusted despite being here at the shelter with a weight problem. He does this thing where if you move your hand away after petting him, he reaches out with a large paw and pulls it back. He came from Animal Care and Control; they think his former owner was a elderly person who died, poor fellow.

A playful middle aged couple stand at Tugboat’s door and exclaim over him. But they want to adopt a long hair and have a couple picked out to meet. I escort them in. Our different languages keep me from providing more than the most basic info, but it’s easy to read their body language with the cats. They quickly decide on the more outgoing kitty and better match, a splendid confident tortie named Latte.

There in hallway 1, I’m disappointed to see Baby, the charming and sweet old tabby, is back. And I heard that Citi was adopted but returned the next day. Returns are hard on everybody. But there are numerous reasons for them – allergies, problems with other animals in the household, plus things less easy to quantify.

The fact is, I considered returning Montana. I had purposely picked a cat very different from the beloved girl who had been my companion for so many years. But that difference made him feel like an awkward guest in the house at first (surely this would have been as bad if the cat was similar but of course not at all the same). And he was so needy, he wasn’t letting me sleep with his frantic nighttime affection.

The thing is, it wasn’t him, it wasn’t me, it wasn’t us. It was more the long process of letting go after the devastating loss of my girl, and letting someone new start to squeeze into that intimate private place in my heart reserved for my special pet.

This is something that’s hard to convey to people pet shopping at Maddie’s – that as great as the animal they bond with is, as wonderful as all the strokes and purs make everyone feel, there will be times at first when the new animal seems wrong just because it’s not the old one. Like any new relationship, they need time to build and solidify.

It probably took seven or eight months with Montana, but now he really is my boy. Glad it was me who found him.

Skin Deep - Citi

I thought the Friday of a long weekend would mean extra people at shopping at the shelter, but it turns out to be just the opposite. A few people do meander in – a family with a cutely awed little girl, a hesitant young couple, a dude yammering on his phone – but it’s pretty much me and the cats today.

Checking recent adoptions, I see there have been a bunch of kittens moved quickly in and out. The young adult cats have some serious competition this time of year.

Over in hallway 5, my girl Mew Mew does her nuzzling and boneless lap lolling thing. Maya’s been moved and there are a pair of cats in her former condo – Dixiebelle and a massive new guy, the aptly named Tugboat.

At the end of the hall is a mischievous young threesome of Citi, Ginger and Dexter. They’re not "bonded," just outgoing roomies who get along well with other cats. From the front, Citi is a lovely long hair 4 year old orange tabby. He’s got a skin problem, though, and his hind quarters are fuzzy with new growth from where they were shaved.

He’s a sweet and mellow guy who seems confidently aware of his charm and good looks, but less so of his odd looking rear end. He hops on my lap and leans in, with a loving look up as I carefully stroke him. The other two circle around bumping noses politely and batting after their toys.

I peek in a few minutes after my visit to see Citi and Ginger cuddled together grooming each other, Ginger licking gently across the shaved area. People are regularly looking to adopt cats that get along well with other cats. Any of these guys would be great. Citi in particular will make a nice addition to an active home. Here’s hoping someone can see past the external package and appreciate this special guy.