Winter’s Bone – Sissy & Zac

Not to bite the hand of sfgate that lets me post my commentary, but that big hyped SF snow storm sure was a bust. Out of towners must have gotten a kick from the breathless media reports, right down to the sober instructions for how to cope (such as scrape snow off windshields, go slowly where it’s icy).

Anyway, I make my way to Maddie’s, unencumbered by anything more than a brisk wind. I’m happy to find that little Inch Worm has found a good home. Otherwise it’s slow, and with no one to assist, I settle in with Sissy and Zac. They’re a bonded pair, big matching tabbies, both sweet and shy.

Sissy, who’s 12, sits up high like a princess, but quickly hops down and meows a hello. Eight year old Zac watches cautiously. I pet him and he emits the cutest little squeak. Soon they’re both walking around me, rubbing while I pet them. She settles next to me, purring happily, while he finds a partly hidden spot at eye level, not completely relaxed, but gazing out calmly. He’d appreciate a certain degree of household quiet, but I think they’d blossom calm, attentive adopters.

I move across the hall to meet a darling tabby and white girl named Kata, new from Merced. She’s friendly and super playful, dashing around after a toy and unphased by hallway noises. Good thing, because there’s another kids camp in session, and a group of boys come jostling through the hall. Apparently there were crafts involved – many of the condos have new decorations, and the place smells vaguely of glue.

I chat with a pair of young women who are admiring the cats. But they’re just looking around at both the cats and dogs, and one of them says she really wants to get a bird.

Continuing my cute tabby tour, I spend extra time with soft shy Jill, a 6 year old tabby and white sweetie. She’s gorgeous and loving once she’s gotten used to having company, but unfortunately she tends to stay hidden otherwise. She slinks out and rolls around by my outstretched legs, then creeps into my lap. After awhile of petting and cooing on my part, she even nuzzles up by my chin.

I hope for a soft spoken potential adopter to come observe Jill’s utter cuteness, but no such luck. After I move on, she crawls back into her hiding spot. She would not do well at our Oscars gathering. (The boyfriend’s cats are amazingly blasé in the face of company, going about their business and only mildly put out to find strangers sitting on their couch spots.) Maybe sometime soon, post storms, post noisy theme parties, the right person will come along.

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