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.