Winter’s Bone – Sissy & Zac

Not to bite the hand of sfgate that lets me post my commentary, but that big hyped SF snow storm sure was a bust. Out of towners must have gotten a kick from the breathless media reports, right down to the sober instructions for how to cope (such as scrape snow off windshields, go slowly where it’s icy).

Anyway, I make my way to Maddie’s, unencumbered by anything more than a brisk wind. I’m happy to find that little Inch Worm has found a good home. Otherwise it’s slow, and with no one to assist, I settle in with Sissy and Zac. They’re a bonded pair, big matching tabbies, both sweet and shy.

Sissy, who’s 12, sits up high like a princess, but quickly hops down and meows a hello. Eight year old Zac watches cautiously. I pet him and he emits the cutest little squeak. Soon they’re both walking around me, rubbing while I pet them. She settles next to me, purring happily, while he finds a partly hidden spot at eye level, not completely relaxed, but gazing out calmly. He’d appreciate a certain degree of household quiet, but I think they’d blossom calm, attentive adopters.

I move across the hall to meet a darling tabby and white girl named Kata, new from Merced. She’s friendly and super playful, dashing around after a toy and unphased by hallway noises. Good thing, because there’s another kids camp in session, and a group of boys come jostling through the hall. Apparently there were crafts involved – many of the condos have new decorations, and the place smells vaguely of glue.

I chat with a pair of young women who are admiring the cats. But they’re just looking around at both the cats and dogs, and one of them says she really wants to get a bird.

Continuing my cute tabby tour, I spend extra time with soft shy Jill, a 6 year old tabby and white sweetie. She’s gorgeous and loving once she’s gotten used to having company, but unfortunately she tends to stay hidden otherwise. She slinks out and rolls around by my outstretched legs, then creeps into my lap. After awhile of petting and cooing on my part, she even nuzzles up by my chin.

I hope for a soft spoken potential adopter to come observe Jill’s utter cuteness, but no such luck. After I move on, she crawls back into her hiding spot. She would not do well at our Oscars gathering. (The boyfriend’s cats are amazingly blasé in the face of company, going about their business and only mildly put out to find strangers sitting on their couch spots.) Maybe sometime soon, post storms, post noisy theme parties, the right person will come along.

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There’s Something Happening Here – Goddess

So my small complaints and triumphs seem particularly insignificant this week, in the shadow of, what, actual democratic revolutions in the Middle East? Or dictators falling to be replaced with new bosses same as the old? The need, at last, to take energy conservation and renewables seriously?

And yet the local rain is cold and wet. Volunteers and staff at Maddie’s are delighted that wonderful 15 year old Ishi has found a new home. And for the people contemplating adopting a new pet – it still is a big deal.

I help a man who’s back for a second time to see the shy half grown kitten he thinks might be right for his household. He really seems taken with the little cat. And she’s hungry for petting and affection, but shy of actually emerging from her hiding spot. After quite awhile of talking and waiting, he decides to wait and maybe come back again later.

My next customer strikes me immediately as a good cat mom - mellow, comfortable and loving with the cats, and aware of what she’s looking for. We check out two pretty torties, shy Passion and more outgoing Goddess. She’s leaning towards the sweet shy girl, who endears herself by making a show of her sudden found affection.

For contrast, she checks out Guy, a favorite of mine. He’s a big, friendly 5 year old all gray Personal Assistant. When I met him he had super long fur, soft quantities of it, with a few clipped areas to take care of matting. But since then, he’s gotten a full lion cut: his head, paws and tail tip are fluffy, but everything else is shorn. If that’s not undignified enough, they decided he’d be cold, so he’s wearing a little jacket and the jacket has red and white hearts all over it.

And yet, he shows well, cuddling on each of our laps and enjoying being petted and massaged through his distressingly tacky fleece wear. The woman expresses embarrassment about having so much trouble with making a decision. But I assure her she’s right to really think it through, it’s a big and long term decision. We talk some more about how nice it is – despite the responsibility and occasional messes – to live with a cat. She decides to sleep on the decision, but I suspect she’ll be back as soon as Maddie’s opens in the morning.

I move on to socialize more kitties. Aware of how small this particular aspect of making the world a better place is, but okay with at least doing my part.

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Be Mine! – Spider Monkey

Maddie’s, as usual, is seasonally decorated; today it’s red hearts and faux candy with messages like Hug Me and Cutie Pie for Valentine’s Day. I’ve got a hum bug attitude toward this particular holiday, especially since it’s become such a restaurant zoo thing. But I do fondly recall that it was this time of year, three years ago now, that I brought home my boy Montana Bear.

My first visit is to Spider Monkey, a lithe mostly brownish black 12 year old fellow with an appropriately long graceful tail. He’s got pretty green eyes, a cute little white spot on his chest, and a friendly, inquisitive manner. He’s chatty and affectionate, rubbing around and leaning into my hand as I pet him. His condo has an outside window, and he likes to interact with passersby. But the precious fellow seems a little listless and sad too. He really needs a Valentine sweetheart.

There’s a new kitty, Manicure, who’s similar both in looks and demeanor. This guy is much younger though, and bigger and sleeker. He meows in greeting, and again as he weaves around, hopping on and off my lap. He’s physically affectionate, with a strong head butt. But his cry is a bit forlorn, and he keeps looking and sniffing around, clearly missing somebody from his former life, poor guy.

It’s pretty slow for most of my shift. I chat with a woman who’s interested in volunteering, and a couple with a cute little kid. Sweet girl Maggie gets some extra lap time, and I’m amused by Stella’s playful antics. (For reasons unknown, she likes to paw around in her water dish.)

I’m close to leaving when a woman asks to see Carolina, a gorgeous and playful young gray kitty. She’s already met her and made up her mind, but just wants to check in to be sure. And I find myself reminiscing again about my boy’s homecoming. What an exciting and special day that was for both of us. We’re so used to each other now, but I well remember those first days of learning each others' little quirks. Gaudy red hearts notwithstanding, can’t argue with love.

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Adventures in Aging - Natasha

I’ve had the end of that lingering cold all week (if you ride transit, you know the one I mean). Capable of going to work, but coughing and feeling a bit run down. Makes me think of how life might be a decade or two ahead, if I regularly felt like this.

There’s already a small crowd gathered when Maddie’s opens. It’s good to see all the people, because it means more animals finding homes, though busy days are hard on the shy kitties. I check in on 6 year old Natasha, a tender-hearted tortie who tends to hide. She enjoys being petted, but I’m drawn away before I can coax her out.

A woman with two young girls wants to find a pair of kittens. They need to be able to handle lots of commotion, she says, which is crystal clear in interacting with the high energy kids. The older one listens carefully when I discuss quiet voices and gentle play before meeting a pair of feisty kittens. The other kid is just a toddler, and does more screeching than talking. The mom is at least attentive, and decides to depart before a full meltdown occurs. She says she’ll need to come back with a third kid before making a decision.

I help another group looking for kittens, three young adults who are gushing about all the cute cats. The one who’s doing the adopting spots darling cream tabby Clementine, and it’s a near instant match. The half grown kitten is completely adorable, nuzzling and purring and happy to be held, and the woman who wants to adopt her can hardly bear to leave her long enough to finish the paperwork out front. This will be her first cat in her new adult life.

I go to visit a cute tabby boy named Jake who reminds me of an older, braver Inch Worm. Or how that kitten could become when he’s older and better adjusted: still cautious but more warm and cuddly and quicker to feel at ease. It’s a funny thing about our pets – with their shorter life spans, we get to see them at more phases of their lives. Where our own (at least when we’re not dragging around sick) seem to transition so slowly.

I’m thinking about that dynamic as I meet a middle aged woman who’s accompanying her senior mom. This lady has got a lot of criteria, mostly unspoken, and wants to move slowly, cat by cat, around the shelter. The daughter mentions to me that this is not their first time here. The pair clearly have a warm bond, but they’re driving each other a little nuts too.

They have similar outlooks, similar degrees of impatience, but I imagine it’s hard for the mom to remember that time in her life when she was too busy to do something thoroughly and carefully, never mind it stretches over days or weeks. And the daughter must be telling herself, I won’t be like that when I’m older. But it sneaks up on all of us, doesn’t it.