I met a foster family at the shelter yesterday. It never ceases to amaze me how different the weekends are at the shelter. It's very quiet and relaxed. The staff seems peaceful. After much deliberating, the couple decided on THREE foster cats!
Another foster Mom came forward for this little guy:
I think I'm going back to the shelter tomorrow. I woke up in the middle of the night last night thinking about some of the faces that I saw. Tuesday the vet comes to euthanize the unfortunate souls whose time is up....so if I'm going to rescue somebody, I need to go tomorrow.
I'm beginning to think that I use Monday morning rescues as a way to avoid becoming one of the "Starbucks Ladies" who jog by my house every morning. I saw the little group on Friday running with their Starbucks *and* Lulu Lemon bags! My big butt hates them.
Screw it. I'll let Pella lick the butter off my raisin toast. It's a start.