I couldn't stand not being part of a rescue group any longer. Cats were dying *somewhere*, and I had the space in my home. I contacted another local rescue group and told them I wanted to foster. They seemed SO happy to hear from me and I felt an instant celebrity status. It was wonderful to feel needed, wanted and appreciated. Something that was sorely lacking with my last group.
I got an immediate approval to go to the shelter and rescue anybody I wanted. I felt like a kid on Christmas Eve - I didn't sleep the night before in anticipation of rescuing somebody that needed me. Would I be able to come out with only one?
There was no doubt when I met "Bazzle" that he was the one that I needed to take home. Kim from the shelter kept Bazzle in the garage in a tiny, tiny cage for TWO MONTHS with hope he'd be rescued. He's one of those big-headed Tom cats that purred and kneaded the moment I picked him up. God, he's sweet and Lordie is he STINKY. Bazzle has the "eau de Tomcat" thing going on. (aka: STS: Stinky Tomcat Smell)
I took Baz immediately to the vets to be neutered. There was NO WAY I would bring Mr. Stinky into my house. Ozzy already has had an a.m. "Pee fest" in my house, so to bring in another sprayin' guy wasn't an option. When I picked up Bazzle that night, there was no doubt that when I opened the door to the vets, that Bazzle was there. The STS was brutal. I think the vet and staff were very happy to see him go.
Alcoholics have AA meetings and Druggies have NA meetings. I guess the only fix for me is to rescue a cat. I'm thrilled that Bazzle is safe and in my home. He looks so appreciative and flops over on his back for belly rubs.
I'm in love with him already.