Streets of San Francisco - Mirka

The first person I help at Maddie's is specifically interested in older, affectionate cats. He's a cheerful guy, a bit loud, with amusing stories about prior pets. Maya shows well, as does Mirka, another favorite of mine.

Mirka's a talkative and outgoing medium hair black and white girl, 12 years old but still a bit kittenish. She's got a skin condition on top of a kind of scrawny street appearance; indeed, her paperwork says she was found on the street. She definitely puts herself out there, pawing the door with all of her extra toes when anyone passes by.

But I get the sense that the dude in not actually planning to adopt. He takes off shortly, leaving me to socialize with some other kitties, several of whom are overdue for a volunteer visit.

Later, I chat with older couple who are making the rounds. They explain that they are about to give back the pair of "foreclosure cats" they've been fostering. They are just starting a search. When I ask what sort of cat they would like, they reply by telling stories of about departed cats from their past. In other words, not quite ready.

Then a kind of disparate group arrives, crowding together in front of one then another doorway. They are from some sort of group home, and one of them, a heavyset woman of early middle age, needs a cat because another cat is moving out. She has a heart condition, an older woman explains, so the program will allow her a companion to help with stress.

She speaks like I should know this program, and maybe I should, but I don't. Also, they would like one of the cats whose adoption fee will be waived, since they're on fixed incomes. Most of those cats are bonded pairs or older cats who have been at the shelter for awhile. I take them in to meet Maya, Mirka, and Jellybean.

The woman says she likes Maya. They all head to the front desk for consultation. I feel a bit conflicted. I want Maya to get a home, this woman obviously likes cats and assured me she spends lots of time at home. And I don't want to be economically biased or whatever about their living situation. But I also wonder about stability, and the way they kind of shopped as if for a commodity rather than a pet.

They're still gathered at the front counter when I take off, wondering who will end up where.

Antidote - Trixie

It’s been a tough week; I’ve had unpleasantness launched from multiple directions (disturbing news via email and scary bank statements at home; grant rejections and copier salesmen at work; don’t even start about AIG bonuses or the 6th anniversary of the Iraq invasion…). So I’ve been looking forward to doing something positive at the shelter.

Of course I want Maya to get adopted, but she’s still here, and a comforting presence. Oreo is making progress – he comes immediately out of hiding when I go in to visit him, barely shivers, and bravely eats.

Down the hall, I spot Trixie, a 4 year old tabby calico mix. My Muppy had a litter of kittens just before I found her, years ago now, but when I see this coloring I wonder about lineage. Especially with a notation about a funny meow and prickly attitude (Trixie’s graciously described as "can get a little worked up").

This girl is much better adjusted though. She gives a couple deep voiced squawks, then starts purring and weaving around and over my legs. She’s got a cute little orange face with a narrow white stripe, and pretty tabby markings. Trixie is a little too jittery to settle in my lap, but she’s very sweet. People walking by make her take notice, but she stays visible and looks interested.

A number of people are just wandering the hallways, seemingly not that interested in the cats. I show a young mostly white kitty to a couple who have an elderly dachshund mix at home. Not sure if that’s an ideal match, but the cat at least seems adaptable.

Then I help a young couple who are looking for a companion for their young cat, who had grown up with another cat who just left. (The woman doesn’t quite explain how this happened, but I pick up that it wasn’t a good situation at home.) She seems emotionally a little fragile, but very sensitive and perceptive in the animal care area.

They specifically want a cat who’s good with other cats, and meet several. I accompany them to visit Crisp, a lovely year old orange and Siamese mix. It feels like an excellent match to me – they both adore the cat, who moves between us, cute and loving. She’s not quite sure. I think it bothers her to chose a sure to be adopted cutie when there are needier animals at the shelter.

They’re still pondering when I take off. But I’m feeling better; maybe they were my antidote.

Performance Anxiety - Oreo

There’s this angelic young man who sings and plays guitar in the Montgomery Street BART station. The songs are folksy, lyrical and sweet, and if I happen to catch him in his full throated chorus, it makes my morning. What’s remarkable, aside from his voice, is the way this guy can perform no matter what the distractions – commuters swirling around him, loud announcements, even other music.

Too bad so many kitties embody the opposite characteristics – they can be sweet and cuddly one moment but completely spooked the next. Except for friendly Maya, Maddie's hallway 4 seems lined with super shy felines.

I meet Oreo for the first time. He’s a slender 3 year old (no surprise) black and white fellow with a dainty pink nose, who stays fully hidden at first while I talk baby talk and try to lure him out. Finally he ventures into the open – he clearly likes to be petted – but he shivers like a little lap dog and cowers next to my leg while I try to sooth him.

It only takes a few minutes till he’s calm enough to stop shaking and investigate the rest of his temporary home. He even has a couple bites of food – they’ve left out the fancy wet stuff to tempt him. Then he’s back, slithering across my lap and even playing briefly with a dangle toy, a soft total sweetie.

Next door, Zoe exhibits a similar pattern. She’s an oddly marked tabby and white girl, about twice the size I expected when she emerges from her hiding box. She wants to be petted but she’s jumpy too, and keeps edging behind her scratching post, which is comically small as an actual hiding place.

Orange tabby boy Boomer down the hall is a bit braver. He likes petting and chasing around toys. But then a Russian speaking couple enter the hallway. They’re a bit loud, and the man taps on the windows to get the cats’ attention. Boomer immediately retreats and stays hidden, only his nose visible.

I wave the toy, trying to draw him out and demonstrate how pretty he is, but they’ve moved on. I don’t have to look to know that the others have made themselves invisible too.

We’re all waiting for some quiet and sympathetic people to come down the hall.

Still Looking for Love - Maya

My first Maddie’s potential customers are a mom and adult daughter who could pass for sisters. They’re still figuring things out as far as their ideal pet – the mom definitely wants a girl cat, while the daughter plans to check out the dogs too. I take it she’s newly moved back in to Mom’s place. The two of them enjoy each other’s company, but I’m guessing there could be some bumps in the road in this reformatted relationship. There’s some give and take in any relationship, even those with pets, right?

Back on Valentine’s Day, they put up some cute "personal ads" for several of the cats, including ten year old Maya. She really is a sweetie – a pretty big eyed brown tabby with a loud purr and open heart who is indeed looking for love. She has a stiff legged walk from arthritis and a bit of a low belly, but she’s still got a streak of kittenish playfulness. She purrs constantly around people, delighted with human company, and I extend our visit, hoping someone will come by and see her curled so nicely on my lap.

Across the hall from her, little Otis is making progress. He’s no longer hiding and even stood meowing at his door for a moment when I approached. Good get-adopted behavior at the shelter. We bond for awhile, and he stays visible and looking out his window when I leave, not even bothered by the sad little meows from another condo.

I peek around and find a formerly feral "cherry blossom" kitten named Ferdinand housed next door. He’s an adorable little gray tabby who hides when he sees me and emits a teensy little hiss, followed by gentle mewing. But then he sniffs my hand and allows his head to be rubbed. Still, he keeps a watchful eye on the hallway.

But I expect he’ll go home soon anyway. He’s got looks and kittenhood on his side so he can get away with some bad date behavior. Maya, who’s now curled up in her cozy with a contented expression, will have to wow her suitors with pure personality.