Home at Last - Jeremy & Luigi

The boyfriend and I took a long weekend camping trip in Yosemite. A month ago making plans, I’d wondered about closures and cold at the higher elevations, but it was lovely up there, ideal hiking weather even at 9000 feet.

I’d been hoping to squeeze in a shelter shift before or after, but work and the mess at home interfered. Nice thing about a volunteer position – the work is important but missable, and I know there are other volunteers around every day at Maddie’s.

Checking the website, I see that Jeremy and Luigi still haven’t been adopted. They’re a shy bonded pair, both sweet boys. They don’t much like all the activity at the shelter, but I think they’d blossom in a quiet household. Cats like their routines and living in a secure place. The cautious ones in particular can act different in the shelter than when they’re relaxed at home, I regularly tell people.

This little trip disrupted things for our cats. My boy Montana (and by the way, I chose that name at least a year before the mayor did!) gets lonely and hungry, but he’s quick to forgive me once I’m back. He followed me room to room, and tried to squeeze onto my lap, despite the heat, whenever I sat down.

He’s quite the change from my former kitty, who recognized/became annoyed when I started packing, flat out refused to interact with anyone who came to feed her, and upon my return bounced between near hysterical crying and none too subtle expressions of displeasure (pointedly turning her back to me or sniffing at hiking boots and hissing). Then again, I never worried about her running out of food, being a nibbler who rarely made it to the bottom of her dish… unlike Montana, who happily eats what’s in front of him, not at all getting the concept that twice as much food should last twice as long.

The boyfriends cats, Emmy (formerly Emily, adopted 2001) and Allie (formerly Annie, 2006) are both more independent. Sure, they miss him and miss being fed at the right time, but they both have their regular business to attend to. They go into frenzy when he gets home, but it’s short lived. A bowl of kibble, some cuddling on the couch, and they’re pretty much back to normal.

Although both of them do monitor his movements. They both know the sound of his car, and on occasions when I’m there and he’s not, Emmy will stand vigil when she expects him, crouched on the arm of the couch, ears perked. Which is sweet but sad if he doesn’t show up.

Anyway, the long hours outdoors were nice, but it’s good to be home and showered with feline affection. Makes me think of the shelter kitties, all of them longing for their own people to wait for and welcome back home.