It seemed like such a good idea until I went into my guest room to pack them up for their new foster home. They looked like they had just gotten through with a major "play fest". The cat bed was overturned, my bedspread was lopsided, and the waterdish was overturned. I brought in the cat carrier and "the look" that they gave me broke my heart.
"Cute-Grey-Guy" (as I've been calling him) looked at me as if to say, "Why are you getting rid of us?" The little tabby-baby had the deer-in-the-headlights look and seemed to say, "Whatever I did, I'm SORRY!"
I was immediately guilt ridden. I don't know why I felt so guilty. I couldn't communicate with these guys that they didn't do anything wrong.
To make matters worse my son sees the cat crate and exclaims, "NO! I really like those guys! Don't move them to another foster home! They LOVE us!"
Tomorrow I'm going to the shelter to get one or two more cats in need to take their place in my home. I didn't realize it until now that I wasn't the only one that "took one for the team". My latest little rescued guys did too. There's no doubt that they'll be happy in their new foster home, and I'm grateful that I have an opportunity to rescue two more tomorrow that need me.
So why do I still feel like