Winter Days and Nights – Mason

Winter’s kicking in – on my way up 16th Street, I spot a shivering Chihuahua in a tiny striped sweater, then a big droopy faced dog trying to maintain his dignity while sporting a human sweater. It’s cold at home too. I’ve had to air the place from work being done downstairs. But my boy doesn’t mind; he likes going room to room, sniffing at the windows.

I’m just as glad for some lap time with the shelter kitties. First off, I meet Mason, a super cuddly 6 year old all gray long haired fellow. He’s got extra toes on his adorable feet, and he struts back and forth across my lap, rubbing and purring. He leans against me and bumps his head trustingly on my chin. He’s just the ticket to keep away the cold.

I briefly help a trio of people, politely stopping them from barging into the condos unescorted. They are only looking for black and white cats, and try to get the cats’ attention by rapping on the doors. They’re also in a hurry, which makes for a less than ideal cat selection process. I explain about the personality types; their paperwork at least suggests the household is fairly quiet.

They head for the front, and I enjoy more quality lounging with sweet showshoe mix Shanti. He’s an affectionate lap cat with just a bit of extra flesh to ensure maximum leg warming. He gazes backwards at me with blinking blue eyes and gently flexes his claws.

I meet a wonderful new fellow, a 4 year old creamy pale orange tabby named Courage. He’s well proportioned but massive, his head and paws and tail all super-sized. But what a sweetie. I’m thinking his name may be a reference to the Cowardly Lion? I pet the length of his body and reach both arms around to hug him. He nuzzles and licks my arm. Then he wants to play, purring as he zips around after a toy.

Next door, Maybelline – not a third his size – follows the action intently from their shared window. Pretty Shira, a striking mostly black kitty with big yellow eyes, also keeps watch from across the hall.

More people appear towards the end of my shift, and I make a couple kitten matches. Then a pair of young women ask to see Shira. The one has already met her, and wants her friend to check her out. Shira’s delightful and friendly, walking confidently between us and rubbing, seeming to claim the young woman. She’s taken care of other people’s cats, but this will be her first. She’s excited and enthusiastic about it, and assures me she’s responsible.

What I can see is her and the cat already bonding. I’m already picturing them keeping each other warm these winter nights.

Heartaches - Maybelline

Yay Thanksgiving – food, family and friends. Even managed not to totally overeat, which makes the day after nicer. I expect a crowd at Maddie’s, and I’m not disappointed. I recall bringing home my dear cat Pepe on a Thanksgiving weekend back in the late 80s.

So I make a point to visit a nice little tabby, just as a remembrance. Even after 18 years, I have many fond memories of my girl. Precious Maybelline is young, sweet and shy – much more so than my Pep – but also bright and alert. She very pretty, with a cute white bib and paws. She ventures out to my lap, and squirms around for petting, bravely holding her own even when I talk to admirers in the hall.

A couple who recently lost an old cat have scoped out the place and want to meet two half grown kittens who are housed together. One is shy, the other goofy (the kittens, I mean). After just a few cuddles, the man raises a brow at the woman, then says they want them both. A fellow volunteer has a similar situation in the next room, and before long there are yellow "someone wants to adopt me" notes on most doors in the kitten hallway 6.

Meantime, I talk to another couple. The woman does not know a lot about cats, though has very particular coloring and age in mind; the man seems more cat savvy but also deferential to her preferences. We check out a couple possibilities, but neither seem quite right, and they decide to keep looking.

I chat with a man and his daughter, both decked out in full Giant’s regalia, who are watching the antics of Crafty and Keiko. They’re all black kitties who share a window, and they’re pawing away at each other in a mock fight. The dad says they’re just here to window shop, since they already have cats at home. (Just my opinion, but this pair is cuter than most anything available at the mall!)

An older woman asks me questions about the volunteer program, but soon confesses she’s mostly just missing her beloved cat who recently died. I can easily read the sorrow in her eyes and her posture, and I invite her to join me in visiting Ishi. He’s a volunteer favorite, a lovely, intelligent and warm 15 year old from the Sido program. Ishi hops down and squeaks hello, then climbs trustingly onto her lap. She strokes him gently while we swap cat stories.

You reach a point, and you’re bound to have some bittersweet memories of cats who were once such a huge part of your life. It’s nice to tell someone about them, even a total stranger. Ishi stands up, and does a dignified stretch. The woman smiles, thanking me. It wasn’t a cure for heartbreak, but at least she’s had a small respite.

Homeward Bound – Oreos

The boyfriend and I spent several days on vacation in Death Valley – pretty time of year, with warm days and long moonlit nights. Best wildlife siting was a coyote ambling through a parking lot.

But I missed my boy. After a few days apart, even jack rabbits and random small dogs reminded me of him. I always like the moment of homecoming from these trips. The boy was thrilled at our reunion, and followed me as I unpacked, trying to keep his head as close to my head as possible.

The city seems particularly urban and crowded now, 16th Street on the way to Maddie’s teeming with people and cars. But glad to be back in time for my volunteer shift. I start out with 4 year old Oreo, a big lanky guy. He’s black and white, of course, with an endearing combo of being shy and eager for attention. He’s talkative and energetic, and dances around rubbing and uttering comically high pitched cries. Then he gobbles some food and plays vigorously, but finally relaxes by my side – so sweet.

Across the hall is a beautiful young Siamese mix named Shanti. He’s also shy and cuddly, with soft fur and blue eyes that gaze up at me adoringly. He climbs onto my lap and arches back, enjoying a gentle belly rub. A young couple ask to see a group of kittens. We establish that they’re experienced cat people as we get acquainted with a litter of shy sweeties. Each slightly favors a different kitten, and they thoughtfully negotiate, pointing out good qualities. I can see where this is headed, but wait for them to decide on getting them both.

There are a couple older women who are touring around, reading about each cat and admiring them all, and I answer a couple questions. They’re not here to adopt, but are having a good time reminiscing about all kinds of cats they’ve known.

I settle in with Oreo Cookie, the big 10 year old dedicated lap girl. It’s peaceful and quiet, warm with her sprawled across my legs. I think about how nice it was to wake up at home this morning. Wishing the same for this middle-aged gal.

(ps – just wanted to put in a plug for The Petsitters (415) 648-7387 - Elaine is great, and has been tending my various cats for many years)

Finding A Friend – Parker

I’m glad to see that my girl Daisy has pawed her way into someone’s heart – her adoption paper is posted for all the volunteers to see. It’s just too bad that there are still enough cats to fill the place to overflowing.

But I start off visiting a friendly foursome that includes two of those I-really-wish-I-could-take-

them-home fellows, Parker and Whiskey. Parker is a handsome green-eyed tabby, sweet, affectionate and eager to please. Whiskey is a lanky light orange tabby, also friendly and intelligent. All four cats are amiable, get along well, and like human company – it’s four noses bumping my arm and many happy head butts amongst them. Even as they all play, precious Parker just slumps against my side, purring and gazing upwards.

Maddie’s is hopping with people – there’s a special camp with dozens of talkative kids running around, and a good number of adults and kids just checking out the shelter cats and dogs for entertainment. Plus quite a few people actually here to take home a new pet.

Between casual chats with people, I go in to meet a cool new 4 year old fellow named Timmy. He’s big sweet cream colored fluff ball, long haired and super soft. He’d declawed in front, so must be an indoor cat, although his notes say he lived with a dog and a cat and likes chasing birds. I don’t think he realizes that he’s missing his claws – he plays and kneads with abandon.

The corridors with kittens stay crowded, and I help a woman who’s interested in getting a pair of kittens. She’s waited a whole year since her beloved 19 year old passed away, and she’s purposely branching out as far as looks and personality. I offer support for this decision. Many cats are utterly irreplaceable. She and her companion just melt over a tiny, sleepy, cuddly pair. She sings their praises as they gently strokes them, and can barely tear herself away to go complete the adoption out front.

There’s another whole family who’ve come to approve the selection of a bright little sweetie across the hall. Between the five of us in the room and a group of campers pressing up against the window to watch, you’d think the kitten might be intimidated. But she preens adorably, as if expecting no less. Their cat at home will like her, they assure me, and she’s just the sort of confident playful friend he needs.

The kids in the hallway are oohing and aahing, no doubt planning how to convince their folks that they too need a new friend.

Making Some Noise - Stella

What a wacky week in the city. Monday night: delirium. Really, Wilson threw that final strike, and my normally staid neighbors streamed into the street for impromptu parades and horn honking. Then Tuesday, sigh – well, at least CA mostly bucked the rightward trend. World Series Wednesday? With an office just off the parade route, I could hardly miss it (nor hardly see, from the crowds, but what a happy scene!). Shouts of "UUUribe," "Timmyyy," and "M-V-P" reverberated from the buildings downtown.

I did worry about the noise though. It’s been a loud bunch of days for our animal friends. Happy to see a cluster of people gathered as the doors open at Maddie’s anyway.

Most of the cats have gone days without a visit, so there’s plenty to do. I step into shy girl Stella’s condo and wait for her to venture out from her hiding spot. She’s a cute 6 year old Siamese mix, soft, blue-eyed, and freckled across her cheeks, ears and paws. As soon as a person has proven oneself friendly, Stella gets chatty. She squawks, rubs, purrs, and slithers around my hand as I pet her. She plays a little bit, but mostly head butts the handle of the toy in an attempt to insert her head under my hand. Whatever’s been going on outside recently, Stella’s happy with quiet company.

There’s another unusual looking girl across the hall, a 5 year old Himalayan mix named Tabitha. She’s reputed to be a bit aloof (a rare MVP on the feline-ality test), but she seems pretty lovey dovey to me. She’s quite petite under all that long fur, with a cute little face and big round eyes.

A mom and near adult son (youngish but bigger than either of us) ask to meet frisky orange tabby boy Kiyoshi. I explain about needing to watch his signals – he’s been known to nip, although he’s mostly a sweetheart. And I watch them interact, concerned that the mom seems more interested in his coloring than his personality. But they quickly declare that he’s the one, and assure me they’ve already got a litter box and supply of food laid in at home. They head to the front, and I’m happy that he’s found a home.

Farther down the hall, little Daisy again does her furious pawing at the door to signal me in. She cuddles, nuzzles, and eats a bit. Then we play, and she really gets into it, launching into her own soccer match with a small ball, balancing it acrobatically between her paws. A woman in the hall stops to admire the action, then moves on. Keep it up, is all I can say to Daisy.

Revolving Doors – PJ

Whether from rain or Halloween prep or recovering from post 9-0 Game 2 delirium, it’s ghostly quiet when I arrive at Maddie’s. (And a welcome respite from dodging around candidates at transit stations and the drone of robo calls; want a sure winning initiative? – ban those calls!)

Anyway, I settle in with PJ, a big, soft, fluffy all black 7 year old long hair fellow. He’s part cuddly, part independent, and all handsome. Smart too – there’s a bungie cord holding his door shut because he knows how to open it. This is an infrequent but not unheard of talent at the shelter. Rumor has it that one cat awhile back not only opened his own door, but also that of a buddy cat across the hall.

But PJ’s content to crawl across my lap, play for a bit, and have a snack. He remains alert for noises coming from the hall though. Probably plotting his next move.

I chat with a young couple who are just looking around. They’re cat lovers but not allowed to have pets in their apartment. Another pair hurry through the halls as though on deadline, barely glancing at the cats.

Several longer time residents are in new condos, a strategy to get them noticed. Tortie girl Daisy surprises me by pawing vigorously on her door when I approach. She hops on my lap with a friendly nuzzle, and dances around rubbing and purring, before dashing after a toy for a play session. This new brighter condo seems to have brightened her outlook.

Across the hall, pretty tabby Archie is roused from his nap, and watches the toy intently from his door. He’s a small 5 year old brown tabby, a "love bug," an endearing combo of shy and affectionate. He perches on my lap with a concerned expression, sniffing around. Then he settles down and purrs while he awaits a play session of his own. Hopefully he won’t be here long enough to need to be shifted around.

Meantime I’m looking forward to the long last end of this election season, and a victory for Boxer and the rest… and hoping the tea party folks have stumbled far enough to the extreme/ hypocritical right on their own. (Gotta ask: if a bunch of rabid anti-government people do get elected, will they fire themselves as part of the problem next time around?)

Orange Friday – Pollyanna

Well, even the SPCA is on the Giant’s bandwagon, with a "playoffs special" on orange and black cats [http://www.sfspca.org/adoptions/cats/adopt-giants-fan]. They even came up with a Maddie’s kitties roster. (Good news already – there’s an adoption pending sign on orange tabby Spike’s door.)

Which gives me a chance to pitch a recently renamed favorite who’s listed as the pitcher on the team, now known as Pollyanna. She’s pretty, she’s bright, she’s soft, she has ball-gripping extra toes, and I’m puzzled as to why she’s been here so long. Pollyanna’s an 8 year old all black girl who was quite shy at first, but these days she sometimes waits at her door for company. She needs a mellow human to step up to the plate!

Another would be player down the hall is her personality opposite. Turtle is a 7 year old super cuddly, drooly, and outgoing "personal assistant" tortie girl who’s anxious for attention. I sit quietly with her, stroking gently, while she wriggles around before settling onto my lap, purring. Predictably, she does everything she can to prevent me from later standing up, curling on one leg while I twist yoga moves with the other.

A woman who recently adopted a youngster is showing an out of town friend around, and we visit a group of bouncy energetic kittens, all of us marveling at how tiny and feisty they are. I show the same group to a young man, who decides maybe an older cat would be a better match.

When things quiet down, I check in on Fog, a sweet and very cautious little tabby girl. First I just sit and whisper to her while she stays hidden, but gradually her head and paws emerge for petting and playing. Finally she hops down for some kibble – she’s dainty and sweet and has perfect little cat feet. But a pair of woman with a noisy kid (cute, but they all think it’s funny when she play roars at the cats) scare her back into hiding.

Next, a trio of young people have some questions about cats and cat behavior. Basic stuff, like why do their tails twitch and how to tell if they’re purring or growling. But I’m suddenly reminded of trying to explain what an inning is to a friend who grew up in Europe – some things are so much simpler if you grew up with them.