The boyfriend is patient with me because pretty much every shelter day I tell him something on the lines of “I saw the cutest thing.” He listens, he doesn’t deny it, although I acknowledge that it’s not possible to see the absolute cutest thing every visit. And he’ll admit he sometimes watches basketball while I’m talking about the kitties.
My paid work schedule (yes, I have a job) interrupts my regular shelter day, so I go in on Wednesday instead of Friday. Fewer cat shoppers around, but still a half dozen roam the corridors. Different volunteers, but guess what, same general topic of conversation, about the cats. Ok, and a few words about Super Tuesday, how SF was the most pro-Obama in the state, how as crappy as things are today (you know, economy, war, health care crisis looming) some of us still fear a Republican victory.
Comfort with the cats. They’re focused on meals, company, strange noises in the hallway, the occasional sight of their neighbors. Happy to lounge in a lap purring, bat a toy, snack on some kibble.
Costello has a notation about recovering from an upper respiratory infection, so no one’s been to see him yet. He’s initially very shy and tries to stay hidden in his climbing structure. But he’s also quite large, so his tail and hind legs droop on one side, front paws on the other.
For a few minutes I just sit quietly, trying not to think about trillion dollar deficits, waiting for Costello to get brave. Once he ventures out, I can see he’s a big sweet guy, black and white, solidly built.
He turns out to be quite affectionate. So full of enthusiastic love he’s not quite sure how to express it. He’s a head butter. Here’s what he does, as I sit next to him on the floor – rams his big forehead into my shoulder and then marches in place, purring like a jet engine. You should see it, it’s the cutest thing.
My paid work schedule (yes, I have a job) interrupts my regular shelter day, so I go in on Wednesday instead of Friday. Fewer cat shoppers around, but still a half dozen roam the corridors. Different volunteers, but guess what, same general topic of conversation, about the cats. Ok, and a few words about Super Tuesday, how SF was the most pro-Obama in the state, how as crappy as things are today (you know, economy, war, health care crisis looming) some of us still fear a Republican victory.
Comfort with the cats. They’re focused on meals, company, strange noises in the hallway, the occasional sight of their neighbors. Happy to lounge in a lap purring, bat a toy, snack on some kibble.
Costello has a notation about recovering from an upper respiratory infection, so no one’s been to see him yet. He’s initially very shy and tries to stay hidden in his climbing structure. But he’s also quite large, so his tail and hind legs droop on one side, front paws on the other.
For a few minutes I just sit quietly, trying not to think about trillion dollar deficits, waiting for Costello to get brave. Once he ventures out, I can see he’s a big sweet guy, black and white, solidly built.
He turns out to be quite affectionate. So full of enthusiastic love he’s not quite sure how to express it. He’s a head butter. Here’s what he does, as I sit next to him on the floor – rams his big forehead into my shoulder and then marches in place, purring like a jet engine. You should see it, it’s the cutest thing.
1 comment:
He is the cutest thing! I love the black spot on his nose!
Post a Comment