By Belynda, May 17th, 2009 in Other | 10 Comments
Tags: adoption, Fluff, Humane Society, Jaws, kittens, Laminated sign warfare, Love at first sight, MSPCA, shakymice
Okay, so this is my second rescue-related post of the week. I went and met Roger the other day at the MSPCA in Methuen, and although I really loved the guy, I knew he just wouldn’t be a fit for the house - in some respects literally - and so I left Nevins farm feeling not elated, but bummed out for all the cats left without a home to call their own. Rescue facilities are a wonderful thing, but the reality of so many pets without families to care for them is heart-breaking for a bleeding-heart such as myself who beeps to get the pigeons out of the way when she parks, stops the car to usher bunnies off the street, etc.
I came away with the conviction that I wanted to rescue a pet. Eddie and I had one last talk about the reality of bringing home a new family member. He had three stipulations:
- That it be a kitten, so he could bond with it.
- That it be a girl, because his tom-cat experiences were less than stellar.
- That we name her “Jaws”.
I’m still working on that last one, but I set out to the local Humane Society today to check out what they had for kittens. After going to the PAWS event at Petco and to to the MSPCA after that, I didn’t hold out any expectations of finding a kitten, of filling out an adoption form… certainly not of falling instantly in love, (although isn’t that the best way to lose your heart?)
But this little girl? She had other plans.
It was pretty diabolical actually, the way she snuck in. I picked her up, she gave me a look that said “Okay. You look like a pushover.” and promptly conked out in my arms, with her chin propped up on my hand. She had a big-block motor that wouldn’t stop running, and that was it. Love at first narcoleptic, adorable, snoozy sight. A few of the people in the room said “Yep. That’s it!” and they were right!
I got an application from the girl at the desk, and jokingly said “I told my husband I was going to go out and find an adorable little ball of fluff. He said that would be okay.” She laughed, “Well that’s exactly what you found!” I looked at the application. Her foster name? “Fluff”. As if the deal needed any more seal, that did it.
I tried to fill out the app while simultaneously not waking the fuzzball. It was at that very moment she decided it was time to play, and proceeded to tap-dance on the clipboard, boogie up my shoulder, head-butt the pen, check out the chair next to her, consider a run across the room. I finally relented and had to put her back in her “house” for a moment. I snapped the above shot just as she decided it was time to pick a fight with the sign of the front of her cage. I hurried through the paperwork, handed it to the girl at the desk, and presto-chango, became the proud owner of the most adorable cat in the world. I didn’t think it would be that easy actually! I think they were impressed by my neat handwriting or something.
I spent another half-hour playing with Not-Fluff-Not-Jaws Cianci (although Ed still thinks that we could name her Jaws. Could you name that adorable little fuzzball Jaws?! C’mon…) She was over the need to beat the hell out of the sign, and decided another nap was in order. I had found myself a snuggler. When she was hungry and ready for some down-time, she let me know by giving me the long “hellllooooo??” stare, and poking me a few times with a paw to make sure I were still with the program. She already knows how to handle me. I have no doubts she will beat any alarm-clock money can buy.
So sometime Wednesday, after a visit with the vet for all the necessary poking and prodding, Not-Fluff-Not-Jaws will be coming home to explore the wild world of Casa Cianci. Until then, I’ll will be kitten-proofing, shaky-toy shopping, and getting the camera ready for pictures of kitty’s first day in her forever home.
By Belynda, May 17th, 2009 in Other | No Comments
Tags: crazy cat lady, Methuen, MSPCA, nablopomo, Nevin's Farm, pet adoption, pets, Roger
(Editor’s note: Realizing you’ve missed a blog post during Nablopomo, I’ve learned, is something like forgetting to take your birth control pill. You wake up quite suddenly - far earlier than is reasonable on a Sunday - then immediately rack your brain trying to think of when you took/wrote it, finally realize that you didn’t, swear under your breath, and get out of bed to go rectify the matter.)
So, I finally convinced my darling, handsome, exquisitely intelligent husband that it would be a good idea to add something furry to the household, specifically, a kitty. I have been trying to accomplish this for… hmm… about five years (also known as “Ever since we moved in”.) Luckily for me, I am persistent and he is in love with me, so yesterday I went down to the MSPCA at Nevins Farm in Methuen to see who all was looking for a forever home. I was all excited, went in, had some preliminary fact-finding conversation with the lady at the front desk, then headed in to meet my future fluffball. I checked out the “Colony Room”, which was sort of like the living room of a crazy cat lady’s house. There were probably 15-20 cats milling about, sleeping on chairs and in cubbies, some scrabbling with shaky-mice and being ultra-adorable.
One of the volunteers found out I might be looking for a lap-cat, and introduced me to Roger. Roger was probably the complete opposite of what I envisioned when I went in to look: A big, angora-furred Maine Coon, possibly 20 pounds (easily the size of a Thanksgiving stuffer, for comparison), and probably the most laid back lump of adorable I’ve ever met. The volunteer put Roger in my lap, and Roger immediately went back to sleep with little more than an adjustment of his head onto my knee. He was total lap-cat material.
Only one problem. Roger likes to shed. A lot. I think I’m still wearing some of Roger somewhere on me. I probably will find bits of him for the next few days. I knew I could never get a 20-pound shed-machine past the gates at Chez Cianci, so unfortunately, I had to leave Roger to find a forever home with someone else.
And here’s why it’s hard for me to go to the MSPCA.
I really wanted to take Roger home. You could tell he was a kind soul, and I completely wanted to scoop him up, take him home, and lavish him with jingly toys and chin scratches for the rest of his life. But being grown-up sucks. I had to actually use that practical part of my brain, the one I abhor. Roger is a giant: he could easily take up his own half of the bed, or his own 3rd of the couch, which just wouldn’t work for anyone in our small condo. We could spin his fluff and use it to clothe a village somewhere for a year. Roger was simply too big, and too fuzzy for us, and it broke my heart to realize that he just wouldn’t fit into our lives. I suppose in the end it’s better for both of us if he goes to a home where he will fit, both literally and figuratively. I know that my heart tells me that I want to take ALL of them home, that I want to quit my day job, rescue cats and write books with one cat in my lap, one sitting on my head, one brushing around my legs, and probably one sleeping on my keyboard… but we’ve only got so much room, and if we’re going to give a kitty a “forever home”, we have to be careful which kitty we choose.
So the hunt continues. It was a good, but hard, first day out looking around. It was all I could do not to run up to the front desk and volunteer at the shelter. After my degree is done, I fully intend to. By the way If you’re in the market for a lap-cat, and you’re not opposed to a little extra fuzz, then run down to Nevins and scoop Roger up and take him home. And let me know when you do.
