My late father used to proclaim December 26 his favorite day of the year – the day, finally, when all the "fuss and hoopla" was over and he could get back to his normal life. (He also used to root for the Grinch – in his small hearted phase – during the family’s annual viewing of How the Grinch Stole Christmas.)As I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to sympathize, to the point of avoiding mainstream stores in a desperate attempt to avoid another insipid rendition of Jingle Bell Rock. But the last minute holiday rush is alive and well at Maddie’s. Happily with no music and the chance to help a bunch of people find their perfect pets.
A mom and son, who’s maybe 11, are making a careful assessment of every cat in the place. This is to be his cat, and they want to get it right. I escort them in to see several kitties, all quite different in temperament. He’s good with the cats, gentle and careful to let them sniff his hand, but not especially communicative with his mom or me.
They go off to discuss the situation while I visit pretty, vivacious and super sweet Sugar, a 17 year old white and tabby gal with a funny dark nose and wide eyes. She’s mellow, comfortable with herself in the way of any mature animal, and she leans next to me, purring while I pet her. It’s tough for older cats to find home, but she’s another winner (like my boy Buckie, who got adopted last week!). I also check in with precious and soft little Bebe, the all black long hair girl who loves lap time so much that it's hard to dislodge her when people in the hall need assistance.
I show another cat to a middle aged couple, answer questions, and try to steer people toward the right type of cats based on their answers to the feline-ality questionnaires. One couple are debating between two of the older cats, one outgoing and the other shy. I just stand and watch as the shy one, Patches, creeps onto the woman’s lap and into her heart. Patches just came in from the SIDO program, and is nervous about shelter life, so I’m glad to see her find new people.
The mom and boy return, wanting another look at Choir, a nice black and white 2 year old. Only the boy and I go in. As he sits on the floor, she pops out of her hiding spot and just claims him, rubbing her head back and forth across his knees, purring, and thrusting her head into his hand. After a minute or two, he looks up and quietly tells me that she’s the one.
In my head I picture the kid a decade from now, grown and telling the story of December 2009, how he got to pick out his cat, how they connected there on the floor of the shelter, and all the years he took care of her. And how his mom and some lady he didn’t even know exchanged smiles and looked like they were about to cry – because he probably had no idea at the time how sweet this moment was for all of us.
Happy holidays; back next year.
ps - just saw this article on Food Runners, another hands on org that I support: http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2009/12/24/DDCJ1B7LNR.DTL They could use year end donations if you're looking to make a final charitable gift.
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