Comfort Zone - Felix

It’s been a hectic week – hormone infused one month-till-the-annual-fundraiser and two weeks- till-fiscal-year-end, budget worrying days. My neighborhood is alive with lovely flower blossoms and all I can focus on are the day old Examiners in their non-recycle plastic wrap, lying discarded on the sidewalks. World news is exhausting. Even the lighter stuff seems not so light.

So socializing with the cats at Maddie’s is going to do more for me than for them. I cuddle up with Bobo, a young and pretty orange tabby boy. He’s getting over his initial shyness and purrs loudly, meeting my eyes and blinking his satisfaction.

Across the hall, little Racoon sits at his door watching our every move, waiting his turn. He’s a 7 month old tabby with tight little stripes, a formerly under-socialized kitten who’s half grown and skinny, playful but still wary. He’s got a sweet little purr, and I convince him to let me pet him at least a little before he launches himself after the toys.

But Felix really turns me around. This guy is talkative and loud, a 12 year old tuxedo cat who meows in a fussy way at first, pacing around and fixing me with a Take Me Home stare. But then he decides to chill, and climbs slowly onto my lap, purring and settling gently, quiet and content. Enjoying the moment; wordless sharing his simple cat philosophy with me.

A middle aged couple are looking for a younger male as a companion for their older cat. I put in a good word for Bobo. Some moms and kids, and a pair of college students (Cal sweatshirts and shorts) are wandering around, just looking. Other random singles and couples go up and down the halls, some really studying the animal descriptions and reading parts aloud, others just cruising along, seeming barely interested. There are lots of volunteers around, so everybody’s accommodated.

Toward the end of my shift, a dozen or so young apron clad campers line the main corridor, eagerly waiting their assignments. One little girl is literally jumping around in excitement and others clamor to see the kittens. It’s a small thing we’re doing here at the shelter, all of us, but there’s a good sense of community.

Beam Me Up - Harry

Looks like June’s "Adopt a Shelter Cat Month" [http://www.sfspca.org/promotions/adopt-a-shelter-cat-month.html] is really taking off – Maddie’s is buzzing with activity the whole time I’m there.

I spend a few minutes alone with my new buddy Harry, a charming nine year old Siamese mix with pretty blue eyes. He's very affectionate and a bit drooly. He gets too excited to settle on my lap but rather paces back and forth on it, then puts his paws up on my shoulder and climbs up to drape himself around my neck, front paws flexing in a passable shoulder massage. Cute and relaxing, if a little wet...

Next encounter is with two older gentlemen in hallway 4. The more dynamic one is reading the cats’ descriptions out loud and pointing out how great various of them are. The other shakes his head no to one after another till he halts outside Diamond’s condo. "I’d like to see this one," he tells both of us.

Diamond is a cute little three year old black and white girl, friendly and talkative, just your basic cat. The guy talks cat talk to her for a few minutes, smiling broadly and stroking her, then he tells me that this is his cat.

He’s had cats before. He recently lost one after 18 years. And he knows what he wants; he doesn’t want to see anyone else, this is it, she’s coming home with him now. He heads off to the front, but the friend wants to take a look at Pixie. He has dogs, he explains, but he was just intrigued by her looks.

Pixie is quite striking, a two year old torbie with lovely coloring, and a sweet little round face. One ear tilts to the side like a puppy, and that with her big hooded eyes give her a bit of an ET look. She was shy at first, but she’s gotten more used to her situation here. She can be a bit ornery, but only because she’s clearly used to ruling the roost.

She likes commanding two people’s attention. The man scoops her into his lap for some cuddling, before taking off to find his friend. I pet her in a more dignified fashion. Then eight or nine pre-schoolers come skittering down the hall, excited but regularly hushed by their minders. A bunch of them press up to our window, and Pixie tolerates this just fine, even rubbing her face up toward one awe struck little boy.

Moments later, a woman seeking a companion for her cat at home asks to see several kittens. Hallway 6 is swimming in kittens at this point, five and six to a room, playful and funny little fur balls. We visit a couple different rooms, squeezing in and out to avoid escapes and entertaining the visitors outside with their antics. She mulls over the choices. She says her other cat seems bored. That’s about to change.

I show kittens for awhile; there are plenty of people interested. But I do make it back to finish up my time with little Pixie. She admits in her dainty way to being glad to see me again. I tickle her under her ears and tell her she’s sweet. All the rest of our cats look like cats, but somebody out there is going to prefer the one who kind of resembles a space alien.

Ready & Waiting - Nala & Cleo

Good shelter news: Tugboat has left the building! Mew Mew too, plus several other cats and a host of kittens. Still, there are plenty of cats here needing homes. And it looks like we had a shortage of volunteers earlier in the week, with a bunch of cats having gone two or three days without a socialization visit.

I join a young couple who are giggling at the antics of a tiny pair of kittens in hall 6. When I ask if they want to go in and meet them, they tell me they’re actually interested in adopting a dog but just got sidetracked. Another laughing group seem partly interested in the cats but also into their own conversation. They’re just looking around too.

I spend some extra time with a new feisty foursome in the back of hall 5, Chauncey, Pancat, Dexter, and Muffin. All are young and pretty, the first three outgoing males, and pretty little Muffin a more timid girl. I can’t believe Chauncey has been here more then a day or so – he’s my ideal sort of cat (thanks to my childhood tabby boy), a gorgeous and friendly trim brown tabby who enjoys cuddling and playing both.

Then I meet a new bonded pair, Nala and Cleo, who are 10 and 9 respectively. They have some similarities, like age and some initial shyness, but more differences. It makes me wonder about their back story and how they possibly ended up here. Cleo’s a good sized cream colored long hair, who climbs on and off my lap with head butting enthusiasm. Nala is a smaller short haired bright orange tabby with vivid green eyes. She’s more hesitant; she lets me pet her but she’s easily spooked by any noises out in the hall.

They’ve each got a dish of wet food and a dish of Meow Mix, which tells me they aren’t eating well. Each takes some licks of the wet food while I’m in there petting them, and I encourage them to eat. They purr and rub around nicely, but also meow in a concerned way. Like they’re willing to put up with all this for a while, but are anxious to go back home. As nice a place as Maddie’s is, that sort of behavior is heart rending.

I’m getting ready to visit Tony, another fine looking tabby boy, when I see a lone woman moving quietly along the condos, stopping here and there and really studying the cats. She’s not ready to meet one yet, but everything about her demeanor and pace says she would be good with any of our older, shyer, harder to place kitties.

I’m tempted to follow after her and point them out, but of course I don’t, any more than I would get in the face of a cat who’s not ready for company. Here’s hoping, though.

Someone Else's Loss - Tugboat

It’s not often that I meet a cat who makes my Montana http://www.catster.com/cats/717069 look svelte and pretty – but Tugboat is that guy. He’s massive, a good sized beast to start with, who’s carrying a distressing load of fat. He’s ten, black and white, with an inquisitive funny face and wavy fur on his belly, which I see in all its glory because he’s really into lolling on his back for a belly rub.

Such a sweetie! He’s affectionate but not pushy, and seems well adjusted despite being here at the shelter with a weight problem. He does this thing where if you move your hand away after petting him, he reaches out with a large paw and pulls it back. He came from Animal Care and Control; they think his former owner was a elderly person who died, poor fellow.

A playful middle aged couple stand at Tugboat’s door and exclaim over him. But they want to adopt a long hair and have a couple picked out to meet. I escort them in. Our different languages keep me from providing more than the most basic info, but it’s easy to read their body language with the cats. They quickly decide on the more outgoing kitty and better match, a splendid confident tortie named Latte.

There in hallway 1, I’m disappointed to see Baby, the charming and sweet old tabby, is back. And I heard that Citi was adopted but returned the next day. Returns are hard on everybody. But there are numerous reasons for them – allergies, problems with other animals in the household, plus things less easy to quantify.

The fact is, I considered returning Montana. I had purposely picked a cat very different from the beloved girl who had been my companion for so many years. But that difference made him feel like an awkward guest in the house at first (surely this would have been as bad if the cat was similar but of course not at all the same). And he was so needy, he wasn’t letting me sleep with his frantic nighttime affection.

The thing is, it wasn’t him, it wasn’t me, it wasn’t us. It was more the long process of letting go after the devastating loss of my girl, and letting someone new start to squeeze into that intimate private place in my heart reserved for my special pet.

This is something that’s hard to convey to people pet shopping at Maddie’s – that as great as the animal they bond with is, as wonderful as all the strokes and purs make everyone feel, there will be times at first when the new animal seems wrong just because it’s not the old one. Like any new relationship, they need time to build and solidify.

It probably took seven or eight months with Montana, but now he really is my boy. Glad it was me who found him.

Skin Deep - Citi

I thought the Friday of a long weekend would mean extra people at shopping at the shelter, but it turns out to be just the opposite. A few people do meander in – a family with a cutely awed little girl, a hesitant young couple, a dude yammering on his phone – but it’s pretty much me and the cats today.

Checking recent adoptions, I see there have been a bunch of kittens moved quickly in and out. The young adult cats have some serious competition this time of year.

Over in hallway 5, my girl Mew Mew does her nuzzling and boneless lap lolling thing. Maya’s been moved and there are a pair of cats in her former condo – Dixiebelle and a massive new guy, the aptly named Tugboat.

At the end of the hall is a mischievous young threesome of Citi, Ginger and Dexter. They’re not "bonded," just outgoing roomies who get along well with other cats. From the front, Citi is a lovely long hair 4 year old orange tabby. He’s got a skin problem, though, and his hind quarters are fuzzy with new growth from where they were shaved.

He’s a sweet and mellow guy who seems confidently aware of his charm and good looks, but less so of his odd looking rear end. He hops on my lap and leans in, with a loving look up as I carefully stroke him. The other two circle around bumping noses politely and batting after their toys.

I peek in a few minutes after my visit to see Citi and Ginger cuddled together grooming each other, Ginger licking gently across the shaved area. People are regularly looking to adopt cats that get along well with other cats. Any of these guys would be great. Citi in particular will make a nice addition to an active home. Here’s hoping someone can see past the external package and appreciate this special guy.

Sweet Girls - Mew Mew

The first person I see at Maddie’s has her potential pet all picked out. She wants to meet Princess, a mellow young solid black kitty. The woman explains that she has a poodle at home. He likes cats from living with her former cat, who died last year at 18. She says she always had cats before but this dog is great and she can’t imagine being without him. Princess is friendly and calm, and seems like she could do ok with a big brother.

The woman goes to the front desk, and I head for hallway 5. Ok, we’re not supposed to play favorites, and all the animals at the shelter deserve good loving homes. But everybody’s still pulling for Maya, the devoted tabby lap girl; she gets one or more visits a day even when other cats are skipped.

And I’ve gotten mighty attached to sweet soft Mew Mew, who resides across the hall from her. She’s a five year old calico with swirling tabby markings and an odd tan and white face that at first seems unusual, then upon reflection is gorgeous. Her photo does not do her justice; this is a face you’d want to – and surely would, every morning – wake up to. She’s bunny soft and a huggy little neck nuzzler.

She definitely needs people who are into physical affection. She starts on my lap, all happy and purring, then slithers up my chest to nibble at my hair and neck before puddling back into my lap, limp and twisting around for a belly rub. She arrived here from Elko in March, and I’m surprised she wasn’t scooped up right away. One of her other regular volunteer visitors puts a big heart by their initials each time on her visit log.

I cross the hall to sit with Maya. We watch Mew Mew scamper around her condo after a toy, then interacting with one, then another young woman who is wandering around. She sits perkily at the door, but neither one stops.

There’s another sweet lap cat next door, a tortie named Gretle. As I sit cross legged, stroking her, Mew Mew hops up to the window between the condos and crouches, leaning into the glass. She’s partly watching the bird’s on Gretle’s TV, and partly looking longingly at me, as if willing me to come back and pet her some more.

An older gentleman enters the hallway and pauses, gazing at all three of us with a big smile. I think we just made his day.

Pets on the Road - Annie

The Big Island was pretty cool, in several senses: interesting, laid back, and of temperature due to “vog.” We had a good time touring, hiking, swimming, and relaxing.

Spent a couple days at a lush and colorful B&B on a hobby farm teeming with animals – two miniature horses, a pig, peacocks, chickens, all sorts of smaller birds, plus a couple half feral cats (who would have nothing to do with us) and a recently acquired young dog.

Drama ensured the second morning when the dog chased and presumably killed a favorite chicken. Our host had already told us she was trying to train the dog, a sweet seeming tan lab mix, not to bother the other animals and that he was “on probation” after his last chicken maiming. So instead of the usual breakfast chit chat, she was distressed from losing the chicken and the thought of returning the dog to the shelter.

We talked about the reasons sometimes people have to return pets. This dog just wouldn’t work out at a place with pet laying chickens running freely in the yard. Still, he would surely be able to bond with another family. Hawaii shelters have some different challenges than city shelters, but the same sort of issues underlie.

That was the biggest drama of my vacation. We happily managed to miss the bulk of swine flu panic. Saw a few face masks at airports, but otherwise were quite unaware of the disease’s spread or lack thereof, and found the whole thing being declared not a big deal upon our return.

Still, Maddie’s is pretty empty. Can’t tell if that’s residual people staying home or just a quiet weekday. I check the recent adoptions and see that Iceberg has gone home with a “young woman, love at first sight” as noted on his kennel card (yay!).

I spend some quiet time socializing time with the cats. Mostly quiet – eight year old Annie, a darling, slightly chunky gray and white girl, has quite the voice. She squawks, loud and deep, from the moment I enter her space. She’s nice and friendly and helps herself to my lap, purring and rubbing and uttering regular comments as I pet her and talk to her. I envision her going home with people who don’t mind loud voices.

A 30ish couple ask to see Sailor, a cute little gray tabby boy. He’s outgoing and thrilled to have company. They give all the signs of falling in love, but it turns out that they are taking this process slow and deliberative. They want to see several other cats and had originally hoped to get a kitten. (The one small kitten currently available is a hugely entertaining tiny tabby.)

Can’t argue with that approach. Better to make sure it’s the right pet and avoid the heartache of a return.