Pride Weekend – Azrael

We’ve had tons of adoptions from Maddie’s over the past couple weeks, and not just truckloads of kittens. Chaka has finally gone home, as have Crowley and Rory. Still, there are a rainbow of cats and kittens to be moved through, as befits this Pride Celebration weekend. (Watch for the SFSPCA float in the parade!)

A steady stream of people keep the volunteers occupied. I show a pair of adorable tabby/calico sisters to a pair of young women roommates. They gush about how cute they are – but these are gushy gals, they’re pretty enthusiastic about every cat they see. I urge them to look around to be sure of their choice.

I take a bit of down time with Azrael, one of our sweet shy seniors. She’s a gray long hair with a beautiful face who’s growing out of a full body shave. Still, she wears her shorn coat well, and loves to be stroked and cuddled. She hops onto my lap, licks my arm a few times, and gazes up adoringly. She tends to hide when she’s alone, so I’m hoping someone will come by and see how sweet she is as she sits happily on my lap, her purr deep and loud.

A father and two kids wander along, admiring the cats. But he’s not sure if they have time to devote to taking care of a cat, and the kids are begging him to see the dogs. Another guy with younger kids comes through the hall, barely stopping, just pointing each cat out to the children before hurrying on. I chat for a few moments with a pair of men who recently lost their 18 year old kitty. They’re just looking around, not ready to adopt.

Back in hallway 4, I visit Macgyver and Haley. He’s a shy tabby, and she’s a super cuddly black and white sweetheart. The roommates from earlier, joined by a third, see sweet Haley on my lap and ask to come in. Haley sells herself well, climbing shyly onto one then another lap. The young woman who will be doing the adoption just melts. It’s like the idea of what she’s here for has suddenly sunk in: she has to have this cat. They’re delighted when I assure them they can take her home today.

One of them says it must be so hard to work here, seeing all these poor lonely cats. But it’s really not. I get to see the happy matches, and know that even the shy kitties will find homes eventually.

Towards the end of my shift, I see Macgyver lounging all by himself in his condo, and the tabby sisters down the hall curled up facing each other, paws touching. A friendly chubby calico named Koala has just been brought down to an empty condo, and I help her settle in. Proud of how the whole process comes together.

Kitty Quirks - Kitty Girl

There’s a deep discount for adopting adult cats in June at Maddie’s – and the cats are moving. My very first customer is a guy who wants a bonded pair. This is his second visit, and he’s narrowed down to three pairs including Rory and Crowley and Kelsey and Briscoe. He seems really nice, and he works from home and wants kitty company. I assure him he won’t go wrong with any of these guys, and am happy to see older dudes Kelsey and Briscoe finally go home after several months here. This news shoots happily around the shelter.

I check in on Kitty Girl, a sweet, soft 9 year old tortie. She stands on my lap sniffing for a few moments before settling down, purring and kneading. Up again, she chews on my name tag then leans on me and sinks into a happy curl across my legs. Her paperwork says she started here shy, but she’s now classed as an outgoing "leader of the band."

It’s hard to tell how a cat’s attitude and personality will shift as she gets comfortable in a new situation. That’s something I try to get across to all our potential adopters – that the shy fellow cowering in the corner will probably blossom given enough time in a comfortable home. You just never know what changes or quirks will emerge.

My boy, for instance, has a low wide water dish that he visits several times a day. First he paws the floor around it, as though flattening imaginary grass, then he dips his nose in, then settles in a squat, lapping vigorously. By the time he’s done, there is water around the dish, on his nose, his forehead, dripping from his chin, and often from his chest too, where it has accidentally dipped into the dish.

He doesn’t mind, and comes to offer a damp but enthusiastic head butt. It’s a funny little habit, one I wouldn’t have seen coming while we were getting acquainted at Maddie’s two years back. For that matter, I didn’t know he would be such a talker – he was silent until I put him in his carrier and now he chats with me frequently. You just can’t tell how the cat at the shelter will act once ensconced in a happy home.

A few kitties later, I meet one of our quirkier residents, Judge Judy. She’s an adorable tiny yellow-eyed tabby. When I open her door, she greets me with a low growl. Then she hops down offering a chirpy meow, and circles and sniffs. She likes to be petted, and she chases after a toy. But she’s a little nervous too, darting to the corner of her condo with a growl at strange noises. It could take a little extra time with her, I think, but there’s a real sweetheart waiting to shine along with her funny behavior.

We All Need a Window – Rory & Crowley

What a pretty day, one of those pleasant sunny afternoons where it’s nice just sitting and looking out the window. Neighborhood gardens are blossoming and the wildflowers brighten even the grungier streets of the Mission.

Too nice for cat shopping, apparently; Maddie’s is slow. I’m pleased to see my boy Mago out of hiding and eager for a visit. We cuddle for a bit, then I help a pair of sisters who are looking for a companion to an older but playful cat.

Bonded pair Rory and Crowley catch my eye. Rory’s a big tabby and white 7 year old with the daintiest little meow. Crowley is a smaller 6 year old, all gray with green eyes and oddly clipped ears. They’re both a bit shy, and sweetly dote on each other. Crowley slides into my lap, just barely purring as I stroke his delicate chin. Then Rory clambers up beside him. There’s not quite enough room, so four paws and two heads drape over one leg, while two tails dangle off the other. They’re the sweetest ready made family.

I check in on another sweet boy, Romeo. He’s a young, super soft black and white long hair who quickly loses his shyness. He purrs loudly, hopping on and off my lap and offering kisses and nose rubs. This fluffy tailed sweetie is aptly named – all ready to fall in love. He collapses happily into my lap, and when I get distracted, politely tugs on my arm with his paw.

A young woman has been circling around, carefully checking out a number of cats. She’s looking for someone friendly and outgoing, to blend with her roommates and their two dogs. We check out Chaka, who’s charming and friendly, climbing eagerly onto her lap. I’m hopeful that Chaka could hold her own at least, or possibly rule the roost.

But she’s got a number of cats in mind, and bemoans how difficult it is to choose. I can’t argue with that. All of our precious kitties need windows of their own.

Somebody Else’s Birds - Polynesia

Not clear today if I’m here to cheer up the cats or vice versa. As the drizzly morning (it’s June, folks) gives way to a weirdly humid afternoon, I’m averting my eyes and ears to headline news and the distressing images of gushing pipes, slicks, and dying oil-coated birds coming out of the gulf. Can I just mention one thing that seems to be left out of all the rhetoric? Serious conservation.

But off the high horse and on to Maddie’s. There’s the usual rush of people seeking kittens. We have several sets of adorable little siblings, all looking deceptively precious and sleepy. I try to make sure the potential adopters know what’s in store with raising a kitten. Some people are browsing, waiting for the perfect match, while others have particular coloring and coat length already in mind.

It’s a relief when one woman comes specifically seeking a middle aged adult cat. As she moves off to check out the selection – and there are dozens to choose from – I settle in with Polynesia, a charming and pretty 3 year old Balinese mix. She’s silky soft, with blue eyes, mottled tan fur and kind of tortie points. She’s a sweetie who loves laps, and she purrs and drools a bit before settling on my crossed legs, leaning into me and nudging her head into my hand for behind the ears stroking. Her fur is so soft and thick, with a luxurious undercoat; she’s a fairly small cat underneath.

Dislodging Polynesia, I head back out to show some more kittens and cats. I spend awhile in counselor mode with a woman who’s recently lost her beloved cat to cancer. Her grief is palpable, and while she’s not ready to adopt yet, she just needs to be around cats. We hang out playing with three feisty youngsters and exchange stories about departed pets. I hope it helps her to be able to talk about her irreplaceable kitty, and know she’s in a place full of people who get it, who’ve also had that sad silence at home where there used to be happy meows.

By the end of my shift, I’m not exactly feeling better about the state of the world. Maybe at least relieved to be doing something small but positive. I’m not sure that it is okay to feel better, though. How long can we all act like they’re somebody else’s birds?