Look at Me! – Maximus

I head over to Maddie’s expecting crowds, but it’s fairly tame. Slow start to kitten season this year, plus no big adoption rush going into the long weekend.

I pay a visit to Maximus, a sweet young mostly black cat. He goes quickly from shy to cuddly and playful, batting at the toy I’ve brought before I’ve even moved it. He’s soft and rubs his pretty head around possessively, then goes back to pouncing clumsily at my feet.

Across the hall, there’s a new gal from Yolo, "party animal" Virginia, who’s right at her window and eager for interaction. A trio of young adults wander through the hall, admiring Mittens and Smurfet, the cats on either side of Virginia. She practically paws through her door, trying to get someone’s attention.

Moving on, I meet another new girl, Evelyn, a sweet little mottled gray and tan 2 year old with an adorable half sized tail. As I tempt her out for petting, we hear meowing. Human meowing: a pair of young women out in the hall. At first I figure they’re interacting with one of the chatty kitties. But no, one of them is just meowing loudly at each cat’s doorway. People-centered Mika meows back; other kitties look mildly annoyed.

I help a sophisticated looking middle aged couple who want a playmate for their older kitty at home. They want to check out a super active young cutie. I give my spiel about introducing a new cat to a household by keeping them separate at first, noting that this attention-demanding little girl would probably be the boss cat.

Back in hallway 5, another volunteer has a potential adopter in with Virginia. (Hopefully someone with a lot of time and affection to pour back to this outgoing girl.) But this is a challenging time of year for the young adult cats as more and more adorable kittens hit the adoption floor. So more power to her – wish I could get the others to strut their stuff so well.

Still Here – Carmalita

For the record, I’m in the camp that thinks way too much is being made of the May 21 rapture prediction. Shows what havoc a nutcase with $5,000 and a lot of free publicity can wreak. But I do agree with one thing the guy said – asked if he was unloading his stuff, he answered that one should live one’s last days like just regular days.

Seems like a nice cat philosophy. An excellent day for a cat is the regular routine of food, napping in sunshine and cuddles – no need to dress up and go somewhere new and crowded and loud.

Good news at Maddie’s – my boy Buster found a home, and Tubby’s got an adoption pending sign up. Happy for them, and hoping people will come along and see the precious qualities of other favorites like little Itchy. I visit with her, glad to see she no longer hides but launches out immediately for petting.

There’s another shy sweetie in hallway 2, Carmelita. She’s a dainty little 7 year old tortie and white girl, who tends to stay curled in her hiding spot. But she’s alert and her pretty yellow eyes track my every move. She’s anxious to be petted, poking her head out toward my hand and flexing her teensy white toes. I coax her out stand next to me, marching in place and head butting my hand, squirmy and affectionate.

A pair of young women who look like sisters stop and coo at her cuteness. But they’re exclaiming over every cat they see and rushing from door to door. I move next door to meet Meemers, another sweet and charming shy girl. She’s a younger and bigger dill tortie, who makes good eye contact, urging me to pet her as she lolls next to me.

I chat with a woman making her first visit to Maddie’s. She’s impressed with the size of the place and the comfortable cat condos. She wants to know how long we keep the cats here, having noticed that cute tabby Mika came in January. As long as it takes, sometimes months, I tell her, noting the usual pattern of younger and more outgoing and/or cute ones going home first.

She comments again on how quiet and calm both place and the cats in it seem. She’s just starting to consider getting another cat after her last one died, and I tell her she’s welcome to just look around. As soon as she’s ready, we’ll have a whole selection of cats here just waiting to establish a comfortable routine with their new humans.

Middle of the Day – Silverbell

I am ever glad to have traded lower income for part timer free hours during the week. Errands are simpler, places less crowded, and there’s more time for things I enjoy and think are important, like volunteering with the kitties.

You see funny stuff too, out and about in the middle of the day. Coming from the local market earlier, I happened upon a pretty pair of police horses, along with their handlers and vehicle. (This story doesn’t have an ending – got any idea why there were horses on Bosworth? It’s pretty far off the Bay to Breakers route.)

Anyway, good news at Maddie’s – long timer Spider Monkey found a home at last. There are a couple new kitties in his old hallway. Little black and white Silverbell was just recently surrendered and looks like she’s missing her people. She’s only 3, with a cute nose stripe between yellow eyes, and thick soft fur. She greets me with a concerned squawky meow, and circles, rubbing and head butting my hand. She turns a full somersault and lands on her back, paws kneading up in the air, appreciative of every moment we spend together.

Pretty Gem watches from across the hall. She’s a petite medium hair tabby girl with comically big paws and slightly mottled gray and tan striping. A young man clomps noisily down the hall and looks in, and Gem goes right up to the door to flirt with him. Good get adopted behavior; I reward her with a little extra petting.

Later, I spot a woman whom I instantly identify as a cat person. I’m pleased when she asks to see Peaches, a wonderful senior tortie girl, saying she’s interested in finding an older cat. She has an older cat at home, and they recently lost a beloved second old cat. Both are bereft, and her cat seems terribly lonely. As we sit and pet Peaches, who lounges comfortably between us, she tells me more about the deceased cat, and the painful loss.

We go meet Zoey, a sweet 15 year old calico princess. Zoey quickly warms up to both of us, and the woman scoops her into her lap. I don’t think Zoey’s ever looked less dignified, but she basks in the attention. I’m disappointed, but not that surprised, when the woman says she’s not ready to make a decision yet. She really just popped in spur of the moment, she confesses, in the neighborhood with spare time while dropping off a friend.

I urge her to come look around whenever she wants to, or to take a look at the website for potentially suitable partners. Unfortunate but true, we almost always have several senior kitties available for adoption. She takes off. But I’m pretty sure she’ll be back one day soon.

Things They're Missing – Charlie

Like many cats, my boy sometimes seems to just materialize unexpectedly. As far as I know he’s dozing on the couch as I comb my hair in the bathroom, then I glance over and he’s sitting in the doorway, solemnly watching me, as if he’s been there for hours.

That sort of thing used to bother my father, who never warmed to the cats we had as kids. He called them sneaky. But I don’t mind. There are only a few things Montana wants – cuddles, brushing, food – and I kind of take it for granted that he’s monitoring me.

Visiting the cats at Maddie’s, though, I’m struck by all the human/pet routines these sweet kitties lack. Many of them are quite attentive to any human movement outside their doors.

I start out with Charlie, a big 10 year old all white fellow. He’s fluffy and soft, and friendly. He sniffs around, purring, and squeezes next to me, blinking up happily as I pet him. I get him to play a little – he can use the exercise, and he’s pretty agile for his size – but what he really wants is to cuddle there, pressing heavily on my side.

Gray tabby Buster gazes at us from across the hall, and I go in to say hello. He’s a super soft, somewhat odd looking 7 year old, with a crooked tail, narrow pointed face and dilated yellow eyes. At first he chirps and circles, wary of being stroked. But after some minutes of getting used to me sitting there, he decides being petted is okay, and gradually relaxes. He sits up tall next to me, leaning into my hand and he looks like he’s smiling. Clearly a routine this guy could use every day.

A young couple come by, with some questions about cats in general, what’s involved in taking care of one. The guy seems both unmoved by the sweet faces looking out from their condos, and indifferent to the whole conversation. They’re out a lot, and they like to go places on weekends, he finally says as much to her as to me.

I tell them they’re welcome to at least look around, but it’s pretty clear a cat’s not in their immediate future. The young woman squats at another doorway, nose to nose with a new tabby cutie from Yolo, then they both leave the hall. It’s not just the cats who are missing the pet connection.

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