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!