Cat Dance - Beatrice

There have been a lot of cats adopted recently, and it’s nice coming in to Maddie’s and seeing unfamiliar feline faces where the adoptees used to reside.

Right off the bat, a guy comes up with a short list of cats he wants to see. He’s done quite a bit of research on cats in general and ours in particular, and has narrowed his criteria to young adult male black cats. We head to hallway 6 to meet Shogun. As we all get acquainted, the man asks if I think the cats pick their people or people choose the cat. I have no definitive answer – I feel like I’ve witnessed both. (Although I’m quite positive that my Muppy did single me out.)

As we sit with the second cat, pretty, shy and sleek Molto Bene, the guy declares firmly and happily that this is his cat. I direct him to the front to complete the adoption, and he’s pleased with how fast the whole thing is proceeding. In general, I think people should take awhile in making a big decision like this. But the dude seems very much a person who lines up all his facts then acts decisively.

I head over to visit my sweet friend Beatrice, also all black but female, not in contention. That’s ok – her ideal person would be someone who’s home a lot and sitting on the couch. She can’t get enough lap time. She curls up on mine and rolls her head around, seeming to smile, as I pet her. When my attention lapses toward visitors in the hall, she noses my arm politely. Her purr is barely audible, but her pleasure is evident.

I move on and meet a new kitty, Dixie, a shy and petite 8 year old Siamese mix. Her looks are striking and unusual – blue eyes, traces of orange and brown tabby on her face and paws. She’s shy at first, but steps daintily onto my lap as I stroke her soft fur. She curls there, purring and drooling a bit. She deigns to nibble on some kibble from my lap, and I regret having to nudge her aside to end my visit.

Sometimes it’s hard to say who’s leading in the whole dance of cats and their people/people and their cats. There’s you, there’s the cat, and then there’s the bond between you that develops over time, so much more complex than the first joy of meeting each other. With its quirks and complications, just like human to human relationships. Simple at its core but also layered and nuanced. But definitely worth it.

Performance Anxiety - Bonnie

I’ve been watching bits of the Olympics. (For whatever reason, I like the figure skating and snowboard cross.) It’s interesting to see how the stress of the spotlight affects different athletes. Some extremely talented people can choke, while others need the cheer of the crowd to reach their peak.

I think about this dynamic at the shelter. Not that a few people strolling around constitute that level of stress or the animals are jumping through hoops or anything. But they are pretty much on display, and there’s a new home to compete for, even better than a gold medal.

Cautious Bonnie, the pretty 7 year old Russian Blue I met last week, is a nice little cat, and I’m sure she’d make a good pet in a quiet household. She’s less scared than she was, and slinks out of hiding almost as soon as I sit down near her. She purrs, accepts some petting and bravely rubs along my leg and slithers across my lap. But people in the hall send her scurrying to the back of her condo, almost hidden in the shadow, her eyes dilated again.

Three young people want to meet Alexander, the charming 6 year old gray tabby just across the hall. He’s your basic friendly, affectionate and pretty cat, a good find for people without a lot of cat experience. But they’re just looking around, and after we sit with him for a few minutes, they thank me and leave.

I offer some words of encouragement to Bonnie, then go sit with another shy kitty. White Sox is a pretty long hair tabby with a bit of white on his chest and of course white feet. He hops down carefully and sniffs around, then lets me pet him. He hasn’t been eating well, and I encourage him to take a couple bites of food.

A young Australian couple pause outside the door and White Sox freezes, as if he’ll be invisible as long as he stays still. They’re interested in Milo, a gorgeous and outgoing Lynx tabby. But they’ve got three cats at home, while Milo’s probably better as an only cat. I’m not worried about this guy, though – he’s back at his window immediately, wowing everyone that walks past.

Towards the end of my shift an older couple want to check out Ranger Rick. He’s a lovely orange cream tabby, a feisty 9 year old who moves comfortably between us. He purrs as we pet him, and allows himself to be picked up and cuddled. The women tell me they want to adopt an older cat, and they like big friendly orange ones. I’m psyched for Rick, but they add that they’re really just beginning the process and they’re not ready to take anyone home just yet. Still, one in particular seems to bond awfully well with him. As for this kitty, he’s doing everything he needs to do to ensure himself a new home.

Happy Birthday Big Boy - Max, Chewey

We celebrated my boy’s birthday earlier this week. I don’t know the actual date, so I commemorate the anniversary of his coming home (two years ago now!). He got a food treat and a new toy, a clever fake bird that emits chirpy noises when batted. Unfortunately it’s a bit loud for either of our tastes – but he’s not real big on batting stuff either. Anyway, while some might think I go overboard, I come from a family where my mom baked a cake and served tuna casserole on each cat’s birthday.

Over at Maddie’s, I pay special attention to a couple other big guys I’m fond of. Chewey is a massive 10 year old long hair tabby and white dude. Not sure if his name is from Star Wars; I suppose he resembles a Wookie more than anyone else here does. He’s got a comically girlish meow, and a shy but sweet disposition. He meows, rubs, and burrows his face in my hair the way my boy does, leaning heavily against me. His fur is long, soft, luxurious; his tail is thicker than your average kitten. He needs regular brushing – not a problem for this guy, who craves physical attention.

Across the hall, Max is a big sweet 13 year long hair gray tabby with a stubby tail. Both these guys are recommended to be only cats in adult homes. Max is not quite as big, but certainly good sized. He lounges next to me, blinking and purring, as I pet him and admire his pretty striped markings and the curly fur on his belly.

A young couple ask to see Jumbo, a 9 month old all white kitty. I’m guessing he’s on the big side too, but the poor thing is shy and stays mostly hidden while we’re in there. Three people standing near him kind of freak him out, and they’re a bit impatient to wait for him to emerge.

Then a woman who’s specifically looking for a Russian Blue asks for help. We see one who seems to bond nicely with her. She’s just starting out looking though, and wants to check out one over at Animal Care and Control. Not long later, I meet Bonnie, a super shy 7 year old blue. It takes several minutes of silent coaxing before she’ll even come out to let me pet her. She cautiously nibbles some food while I pet her, her ears alert for any strange sounds. The woman is already gone, but hopefully she’ll get a chance to meet her too.

It’s hard to be in a new place like this. There are quite a few people around today, groups wandering the hallways and volunteers both. I remember how my boy tried to hide in his condo when he was here.

Toward the end of my shift, I note several Adoption Pending signs up. Lucky kitties, and lucky people too. Celebrating getting the boy made me think about some of those quirks I now take for granted… how he squeezes onto my lap despite being too big to fit, a hind leg or two still hanging off, his nightly cuddling of my head and his big paw tapping my shoulder in the morning.

I’m wishing a happy homecoming for all today’s new pets and pet companions.

Balance - Raindance

I’m having one of those hurry up and wait weeks. Big annual work event for students and a big donor site visit scheduled a day apart – lots of work but also some waiting based around other peoples’ needs.

I go a day early to Maddie’s, and am not surprised to find fewer potential adopters than recently and a high volunteer to cat ratio. Good news: shy little Tabitha just found a home. But unfortunately pretty tabby and white Puff was returned, not sure why.

My first kitty demands my attention as soon as I enter her hall – Mask is a friendly enthusiastic 13 year old who knows what she wants, and what she wants is some petting here and now. She’s soft and pretty, gray mottled with tan, and while her meows are a bit insistent, soon she sits happily in front of me, nudging her head around my hand and purring. I like a cat who lets you know what she’s thinking.

A woman pauses outside the door, and Mask meets her eye with a squawky meow, clearly pleased at the prospect of more petting. But she moves on, and I soon go next door to pet sweet shy Raindance. She's a young tabby and white long hair girl, a cute combo of shy and affectionate, who's starting to come out of her shell.

A whole talkative group come in, scaring the more skittish kitties back into hiding. A middle aged woman, accompanied by what appear to be several family members, approaches me. She’s specifically looking for a young orange tabby. (I’m a bit skeptical about such particular requests for coloring, but ready to help.)

She points out a brown tabby kitten, a shy "Cherry Blossom," and just the two of us go in. She explains that the cat will be for her son. I’m picturing a rambunctious child, and caution about how shy this cat is, but she clarifies further that the son is 24. She’s kind of scouting out the available cat situation because she’s newly retired and has the spare time, and he's so busy. Also, she’ll be around to help care for the cat, and it’ll be nice to have a companion.

Next we meet Donatol, a lovely 1 year old orange tabby, who’s squirmy and sweet, and certainly fits the stated requirements. The group all seem enthusiastic and promise to return with the busy son in tow.

They leave and I return to the pretty kitty. He seems a little intimidated by the commotion, but quickly slinks out for a bite to eat and some scratching behind the ears.

I sit there thinking about the line we all seem to walk, seeking a balance between busyness – the good kind, moving fast, thinking hard, being in the flow of things – and peaceful relaxation, calm hours to be relished, not bored. It’s easier now that it used to be, but it’s never really that simple.

How Can You Say No to that Face - Jasmine

I arrive at Maddie’s a couple minutes before it opens. Already a small crowd has gathered, some pointing out cats visible in their windows, others eager to be first to the adoption counter, their cat already selected. A couple is debating the merits of getting a younger or full grown cat, and whether male cats are more outgoing and if that’s a good thing. Not arguing exactly, but negotiating.

It starts out and stays busy. Initially several sets of people are looking for the same type of cat – feisty and young. I’m unfamiliar with the bulk of the cats, since they’re new, but there are a bunch that fit the bill. A pair of guys check out a couple and fall in love with Fern, a sweet little black and white girl (who’s about to get a new home and a big brother in a friendly Mastiff).

A young woman and her pals want to meet Trucker, a pretty all gray 8 month old. We quickly discover how he got his name, as he zooms out into the hall upon our opening his door. But he’s a real sweetie, purring and rubbing around all of us, and she decides he’s right for her.

During a lull, I go in to see Jasmine, a pretty 8 year old calico who’d had trouble getting along with other cats. She’s hiding but immediately trots out, meowing. She’s slender and soft, mostly orange on her face, white on her belly. She circles a couple times then steps delicately unto my lap, purring, nuzzling, and settling down with a contented purr. Soon she twists onto her back, paws flexing and pushing; I imagine she’s one of those cats who starts cuddled next to you on the bed then gradually shoves you toward the edge as she takes over the middle. She meows sweetly in protest when I stand to leave.

I also visit shy Beatrice, who just wants lap time and gentle petting. From there, we watch a steady stream of staff and volunteers going to see Van Damme, who’s absolutely adorable. A precious cream puff of a kitty, he loves one and all, and snuggles up to give kisses to everyone he meets. (Not surprisingly, there’s an adoption pending sign on his door by the end of my shift.)

A mom and two daughters from New Zealand want help selecting the right young cat for the older girl. Then another mom with twin girls come specifically looking for Cherry Blossoms or formerly feral cats. The mom’s a total cat person, who explains that they’re still getting over losing the last of several older cats and they’re just visiting, looking around. But as the girls play, one per cat, with a pair of youngsters, one of them mentions their upcoming birthday. The other takes it up, saying how getting two cats might be better than a party. Let the negotiations begin.

Rainy Days - Tabitha

All these storms! No, not a big deal compared to the horrific scene in Haiti (or even – don’t get me started – the recent election in formerly blue MA). But too much water and scary noises for our animals.

My boy did pretty well at first, and stayed tucked under the covers with me on the bed until the thunder claps seemed directly overhead. Then he hightailed it to the designated cat hiding spot of the closet floor, behind and shedding on the low hanging stuff.

No leaks at least, more than I can say for Maddie’s, which has a couple drippy windows. At least it’s not overly crowded there these days, so the cats don’t have to put up with it directly.

My very first customer wants to adopt Sir Bentley, the fluffy former feral I found so charming when I met him last week. She’s a nice middle aged cat savvy type who’s already made up her mind, but we go in for a quick confirmation visit. He lolls happily while she strokes him, and we discuss his awesomeness.

Another Fix Our Ferals kitty is having a harder time adjusting to people – Tabitha is a teensy 2 year old tabby girl. I go in and sit with her for awhile. She mostly stays squeezed behind her climbing structure, but she does love being petted, and arches and purrs when I reach back to her.

She ventures out with a nervous slightly puffy tail, lets me pet her some more, and has a lick or two of her food. But hallways noise sends her scooting back to her safe spot. There, she rolls onto her back, paws curled awkwardly in. I think she’ll be a bit of a goofball once she finally relaxes.

With only a few people coming by, I spend extra time with another shy girl, sweet all black Beatrice. She at least is comfortable sitting on my lap, and even plays for a few minutes. (Her notes mention that she likes to eat her toys, so I keep an eye on the dangle toy as she works it over.) I check to see if Tabitha can see this nice normal behavior.

All of us watch the arrival of some new kitties down the hall. One immediately takes cover, another – a big orange tabby from Stockton – circles the room and then starts meowing at his door. Guess who’s mostly likely to go home first. But you know what? Even the cats who freak out from rain can make someone a very good companion.

Other People's Little Ones - Simon & Lola

Lots of new feline faces at Maddie’s this week, with numerous new arrivals from outlying counties like Yolo and Merced. I start out with a pair who are just settling in, both young adult, pretty and sweet but scared. Random construction noises overhead don’t help. But after some gentle petting and coaxing, I convince her to eat and him to play.

Several people wander by – a couple looking for kittens, a dad and two young girls, a lone guy who carefully reads each condo card. Then a larger group comes in, excited young voices bouncing off the walls. It’s two moms and five kids. They study all the cats in hallway 3, then the oldest girl asks to see Silly, a playful 8 month old.

I check in with one of the moms, who suggests just the three girls go in with me, so as not to overwhelm the cat. Most cats would be fairly freaked out at this point, but as for Silly – bring ‘em on. She’s a goofy long hair tabby and white girl who’s friendly and fearless. She purrs, bats at our toys, and happily allows herself to be passed back and forth between the girls, nuzzling them sweetly.

Then the two boys, who are younger and a bit whinier want their chance. We shuffle out, and I crouch down to have a little talk with them about keeping their voices soft and motions gentle. They are gratifyingly attentive to me, and solemnly assure me they are capable of being quiet.

One of the families has recently adopted a cat from Maddie’s and all the kids are clearly delighted with him. They don’t seem real serious about taking on another, but I enjoy interacting with kids – decently behaved ones – even so. Though it's tempting to mention that this is a shelter and not a petting zoo, I figure any kids I meet here are future pet supervisors. I think it’s important to show them respect, listen and answer their questions. And of course to model good person to cat behavior.

The girls beg to meet another cat, and Sir Bentley, a gorgeous fluffy 4 year old all black fellow from Fix our Ferals, is deemed tolerant with children. Basically he loves being petted by anyone and everyone. He’s much less active and pretty much lolls like a rag doll between the girls, purring and wriggling his shoulders, the soft fur on his belly luxurious and long.

Finally the whole group is herded away (another benefit of other people’s children) and things quiet down. All this time Lola and Simon, an older bonded pair, have put up with the commotion outside their condo. They’re precious too, but in a more subdued, mature way. Simon is a huge orange tabby, friendly and easygoing, a "personal assistant." Lola’s half his size, a petite big eyed brown tabby, initially shy.

But she wins me over when she slinks from her hiding spot straight onto my lap, and curls there trustingly. She seems like somebody else’s baby too, and I wonder how these two ended up here. They’re older and a pair, which makes them a little harder to get adopted – but hopefully the right people for them will show up soon.