Streets of San Francisco - Mirka

The first person I help at Maddie's is specifically interested in older, affectionate cats. He's a cheerful guy, a bit loud, with amusing stories about prior pets. Maya shows well, as does Mirka, another favorite of mine.

Mirka's a talkative and outgoing medium hair black and white girl, 12 years old but still a bit kittenish. She's got a skin condition on top of a kind of scrawny street appearance; indeed, her paperwork says she was found on the street. She definitely puts herself out there, pawing the door with all of her extra toes when anyone passes by.

But I get the sense that the dude in not actually planning to adopt. He takes off shortly, leaving me to socialize with some other kitties, several of whom are overdue for a volunteer visit.

Later, I chat with older couple who are making the rounds. They explain that they are about to give back the pair of "foreclosure cats" they've been fostering. They are just starting a search. When I ask what sort of cat they would like, they reply by telling stories of about departed cats from their past. In other words, not quite ready.

Then a kind of disparate group arrives, crowding together in front of one then another doorway. They are from some sort of group home, and one of them, a heavyset woman of early middle age, needs a cat because another cat is moving out. She has a heart condition, an older woman explains, so the program will allow her a companion to help with stress.

She speaks like I should know this program, and maybe I should, but I don't. Also, they would like one of the cats whose adoption fee will be waived, since they're on fixed incomes. Most of those cats are bonded pairs or older cats who have been at the shelter for awhile. I take them in to meet Maya, Mirka, and Jellybean.

The woman says she likes Maya. They all head to the front desk for consultation. I feel a bit conflicted. I want Maya to get a home, this woman obviously likes cats and assured me she spends lots of time at home. And I don't want to be economically biased or whatever about their living situation. But I also wonder about stability, and the way they kind of shopped as if for a commodity rather than a pet.

They're still gathered at the front counter when I take off, wondering who will end up where.