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.

Give Me One More Chance - Baby

I don’t drive much during the week, but was in the car Thursday afternoon after a hike with out of town friends. KFOG announced Michael Jackson’s death in a simple sentence and put on "I’ll be there," and I found 280 blurring from a surprisingly strong emotional reaction. I wasn’t a huge fan, but the dude’s songs were a dance track to my social life from second grade to sophomore year to early restaurant jobs in SF.

Not that this has much to do with the homeless animals at Maddie’s, except that Jackson seemed like at his core a shy and gentle person who related well to animals. Quiet/less than conventional people fit in ok here, and cats make fine companions for such people, young and old.

Excellent people to cats ratio these days, with the summer camp in session. Pairs of kids visit the more tolerant cats, as "junior camp counselors" (who look only slightly older than the campers) supervise.

Early in my shift I visit Baby, who’s popular with the volunteers and who craves our company. She was here and got adopted last winter, and I don’t know the circumstances that brought her back. Baby’s a petite little tabby and white princess. She’s super soft, with a good strong purr, and like most mature cats, at 12 she really prefers things done her way.

She hops up to perch on my lap, paws splayed across one leg and then the other, purring and rolling her head back for her ears to be scratched. Baby wants all the attention on her – no shock that her notes say she should be the household’s only cat – and she doesn’t even want me making eye contact with noisy Cally across the hall. But she surprises me by playing quite actively when I pull a toy over and under her little rug. She’s still batting at her toy mouse when I leave her.

Down the hall, I check in on Felix and BoBo. A pair of people are interested in Stoli, a sweet young all gray girl. A staffer cracks her door, and Stoli shoots out into the hall and practically does a victory dance. She’s mighty fast for a chunky little cat. Once she’s corralled, she shows well, rubbing around enthusiastically. They’re enamored, and take down her info.

I glance back in at Baby, who’s settled back down but still eyeing passersby. We just need someone – well, someone else – to take a chance on this precious older gal.

Happy Pride weekend… look for the SPCA contingent in the parade!

Comfort Zone - Felix

It’s been a hectic week – hormone infused one month-till-the-annual-fundraiser and two weeks- till-fiscal-year-end, budget worrying days. My neighborhood is alive with lovely flower blossoms and all I can focus on are the day old Examiners in their non-recycle plastic wrap, lying discarded on the sidewalks. World news is exhausting. Even the lighter stuff seems not so light.

So socializing with the cats at Maddie’s is going to do more for me than for them. I cuddle up with Bobo, a young and pretty orange tabby boy. He’s getting over his initial shyness and purrs loudly, meeting my eyes and blinking his satisfaction.

Across the hall, little Racoon sits at his door watching our every move, waiting his turn. He’s a 7 month old tabby with tight little stripes, a formerly under-socialized kitten who’s half grown and skinny, playful but still wary. He’s got a sweet little purr, and I convince him to let me pet him at least a little before he launches himself after the toys.

But Felix really turns me around. This guy is talkative and loud, a 12 year old tuxedo cat who meows in a fussy way at first, pacing around and fixing me with a Take Me Home stare. But then he decides to chill, and climbs slowly onto my lap, purring and settling gently, quiet and content. Enjoying the moment; wordless sharing his simple cat philosophy with me.

A middle aged couple are looking for a younger male as a companion for their older cat. I put in a good word for Bobo. Some moms and kids, and a pair of college students (Cal sweatshirts and shorts) are wandering around, just looking. Other random singles and couples go up and down the halls, some really studying the animal descriptions and reading parts aloud, others just cruising along, seeming barely interested. There are lots of volunteers around, so everybody’s accommodated.

Toward the end of my shift, a dozen or so young apron clad campers line the main corridor, eagerly waiting their assignments. One little girl is literally jumping around in excitement and others clamor to see the kittens. It’s a small thing we’re doing here at the shelter, all of us, but there’s a good sense of community.

Beam Me Up - Harry

Looks like June’s "Adopt a Shelter Cat Month" [http://www.sfspca.org/promotions/adopt-a-shelter-cat-month.html] is really taking off – Maddie’s is buzzing with activity the whole time I’m there.

I spend a few minutes alone with my new buddy Harry, a charming nine year old Siamese mix with pretty blue eyes. He's very affectionate and a bit drooly. He gets too excited to settle on my lap but rather paces back and forth on it, then puts his paws up on my shoulder and climbs up to drape himself around my neck, front paws flexing in a passable shoulder massage. Cute and relaxing, if a little wet...

Next encounter is with two older gentlemen in hallway 4. The more dynamic one is reading the cats’ descriptions out loud and pointing out how great various of them are. The other shakes his head no to one after another till he halts outside Diamond’s condo. "I’d like to see this one," he tells both of us.

Diamond is a cute little three year old black and white girl, friendly and talkative, just your basic cat. The guy talks cat talk to her for a few minutes, smiling broadly and stroking her, then he tells me that this is his cat.

He’s had cats before. He recently lost one after 18 years. And he knows what he wants; he doesn’t want to see anyone else, this is it, she’s coming home with him now. He heads off to the front, but the friend wants to take a look at Pixie. He has dogs, he explains, but he was just intrigued by her looks.

Pixie is quite striking, a two year old torbie with lovely coloring, and a sweet little round face. One ear tilts to the side like a puppy, and that with her big hooded eyes give her a bit of an ET look. She was shy at first, but she’s gotten more used to her situation here. She can be a bit ornery, but only because she’s clearly used to ruling the roost.

She likes commanding two people’s attention. The man scoops her into his lap for some cuddling, before taking off to find his friend. I pet her in a more dignified fashion. Then eight or nine pre-schoolers come skittering down the hall, excited but regularly hushed by their minders. A bunch of them press up to our window, and Pixie tolerates this just fine, even rubbing her face up toward one awe struck little boy.

Moments later, a woman seeking a companion for her cat at home asks to see several kittens. Hallway 6 is swimming in kittens at this point, five and six to a room, playful and funny little fur balls. We visit a couple different rooms, squeezing in and out to avoid escapes and entertaining the visitors outside with their antics. She mulls over the choices. She says her other cat seems bored. That’s about to change.

I show kittens for awhile; there are plenty of people interested. But I do make it back to finish up my time with little Pixie. She admits in her dainty way to being glad to see me again. I tickle her under her ears and tell her she’s sweet. All the rest of our cats look like cats, but somebody out there is going to prefer the one who kind of resembles a space alien.

Ready & Waiting - Nala & Cleo

Good shelter news: Tugboat has left the building! Mew Mew too, plus several other cats and a host of kittens. Still, there are plenty of cats here needing homes. And it looks like we had a shortage of volunteers earlier in the week, with a bunch of cats having gone two or three days without a socialization visit.

I join a young couple who are giggling at the antics of a tiny pair of kittens in hall 6. When I ask if they want to go in and meet them, they tell me they’re actually interested in adopting a dog but just got sidetracked. Another laughing group seem partly interested in the cats but also into their own conversation. They’re just looking around too.

I spend some extra time with a new feisty foursome in the back of hall 5, Chauncey, Pancat, Dexter, and Muffin. All are young and pretty, the first three outgoing males, and pretty little Muffin a more timid girl. I can’t believe Chauncey has been here more then a day or so – he’s my ideal sort of cat (thanks to my childhood tabby boy), a gorgeous and friendly trim brown tabby who enjoys cuddling and playing both.

Then I meet a new bonded pair, Nala and Cleo, who are 10 and 9 respectively. They have some similarities, like age and some initial shyness, but more differences. It makes me wonder about their back story and how they possibly ended up here. Cleo’s a good sized cream colored long hair, who climbs on and off my lap with head butting enthusiasm. Nala is a smaller short haired bright orange tabby with vivid green eyes. She’s more hesitant; she lets me pet her but she’s easily spooked by any noises out in the hall.

They’ve each got a dish of wet food and a dish of Meow Mix, which tells me they aren’t eating well. Each takes some licks of the wet food while I’m in there petting them, and I encourage them to eat. They purr and rub around nicely, but also meow in a concerned way. Like they’re willing to put up with all this for a while, but are anxious to go back home. As nice a place as Maddie’s is, that sort of behavior is heart rending.

I’m getting ready to visit Tony, another fine looking tabby boy, when I see a lone woman moving quietly along the condos, stopping here and there and really studying the cats. She’s not ready to meet one yet, but everything about her demeanor and pace says she would be good with any of our older, shyer, harder to place kitties.

I’m tempted to follow after her and point them out, but of course I don’t, any more than I would get in the face of a cat who’s not ready for company. Here’s hoping, though.