An Update on "Dexter"

My "Little Ugly Squirt" has gotten MUCH cuter since I last posted. He's still not the handsomest kitten in the world, but he makes up for his lack of looks in the SWEET Department. Holy Moly, he's a sweet little guy. I had some fun taking pictures of him today.

Speaking of pictures...why is it that I'm compelled to post pictures of my cats sitting on my kitchen table on my Christmas placemats, no less? Seriously. Do I have no shame?

Dexter has kept us laughing with all of his drama in front of our foyer mirror. He's a hoot! He goes through great lengths to puff up and look really scary at the "other kitten" in the mirror:He and Meatball are now out and about with all the other cats. I'm a tad worried because I have a husband and two teenage sons stomping about with their heads up their asses in the clouds. I've warned everybody to look for sleeping kittens before they walk up the steps or flop down on the couch. Dexter only weighs 2 lbs - he's easy to miss.

Seriously....I have a 5 scratching trees in the house, and a zillion cat toys. Why do they insist on treating my kitchen table like an amusement park?

Willy looks like he's making a new friend in Dexter. Bless his little heart. Thank goodness I can just shake somebody's hand when I meet them for the first time.

I need to take some better pictures of Dexter. Right now every picture is blurry, because the little guy is feeling better and running around like mad. It's hard to tell, but Dex has some VERY short legs - almost munchkin-like. I'm wondering if he's a product of that icky "Munchkin" backyard breeder who dumps the kittens who don't make the grade at the shelter.

Maybe we should've called him "Stumpy" :)

A Different Kind of Frustration :)

Today has been a frustrating day and it's only noon. I found out that my car needs snow tires and the dealership kindly offered me a "Snow Package" at a "discounted rate of $4000.00" Holy shit. Really? $4000.00 for snow tires? Being a Southern California girl, I've never purchased snow tires, so this is a new revelation for me.

Right now, I'm glad I don't have anywhere to go today. The kittens are frolicking upstairs. I can hear periodic galloping coming from the guest room. I'm glad they're buddies. They're both still really congested, but have huge energy levels.

My CRF (Chronic Renal Failure) cat Bob, seems to be hanging in there. I haven't said much about Bob in past posts, because it really hurts too much to know that I'm going to lose him soon. His kidney's are more than 70% gone and it's a matter of time. Oddly enough, he's become more playful, vocal and mischievious after his diagnosis. With this condition, comes copious amounts of urine right next to the litterbox. Lovely. Every day I have to pick up the litterbox and clean it as the urine suctions the pee underneath.

Ahhh...I should've called this blog "The Blog of Too Much Information".

It's kind of nice to see fresh snow in the ground, have a fire in the fireplace, Christmas music playing while I skip around the house cleaning cat pee off the baseboards. I wonder if June Cleaver had this problem? Ozzy. You're chappin' my hide this morning. This is a picture of Ozzy this morning - I had put up a really cute little Christmas-tree-like-thingy in my foyer and Ozzy was really INTO sniffing it. I'm on "pee alert" now. *sigh*

We're suppose to have a new HD t.v. delivered this morning, and now the delivery guy is an hour late. (David and I aren't exchanging presents this year - we decided to get a new HD t.v. for our bedroom instead.) What the hell is the point of having a 4 hour window of time for delivery if you're STILL going to be LATE? *ARGH*!!!

I've been calling David every 30 minutes or so with periodic "Frustration Updates". Might as well drag him into my lousy day. Isn't this what a loving marriage is about? (*smirk*)

I've looked back at my "Days of Frustration" past and this one isn't nearly as bad as the old days. No kittens have died. No foster homes are asking me to move their foster cats. No adopters are calling to complain. I'm feeling slightly better about my choice to merely foster for now.

Here's a random picture of cuteness of Phoebe (dilute calico) and Bob that I took this morning. Cats are amazing - I bought this really neat bed for them, but nobody would use it until I put it in a cardboard box!!


I can't think of a better way to spend a day with snow on the ground than playing with kittens? (after I clean the cat pee, pay for snow tires, wait for the delivery guy and finish the laundry)

Little Ugly Squirt

I wasn't kidding in the last post when I said that Dexter was a homely little guy. He actually got a lot uglier after I took him to the vets this morning to have his ears cleaned. This picture gives new meaning to the cliche` "...only a mother could love..."

Through the whole ordeal with the vet digging the crap out of his ears, Dexter didn't stop purring.

Speaking of "crap in the ears".. OMG...It's been a long time since I had a foster cat with earmites. The stuff that came out of his ears was nauseating. Of course, the little booger flung it all over me when he shook his head.

I don't get it. I'm a mother of 3 children (now adults) - I really thought there are very few bodily functions that I couldn't handle. But I've discovered that earmites really make me gag. There's something about microscopic bugs that give me the "heebs". As I type this, I have to stop and scratch.

But I digress...

Little Dexter is doing "ok". The vet said I was under-medicating him. That's a surprise! I'm notorious for OVER-medicating my foster cats. I'd be squirting the liquid Clavamox into their mouths and mumble, "Get better, damn you so you can be adopted!" This little guy is quite a lover.

I'm going to save these pictures so I can remember what a little ugly squirt he was.

Saturday's Rescues!

I need to start keeping track of the cats I rescue from the shelter. I didn't do it with my last rescue org. and I've always been sorry. I know one foster Mom who diligently keeps a scrapbook of all of her foster cats. This blog will be a helpful reminder too.

I rescued a VERY cute guy named "Calvin" yesterday. His new family had contacted the shelter and wanted to adopt him "sight unseen". He was a sweetheart!

This family drove all the way from Gravenhurst up north (2+ hours?) just to pick him up at my house. They weren't disappointed. Calvin rubbed up against her face and purred. What a gem of a boy! They already had a 13 year old cat and were very happy to adopt an older gent like Calvin. Bless their little hearts. I wish you well, sweet Calvin. You were one of the fortunate ones. Your new Mommy seems VERY nice.

Of course, I couldn't go to the shelter without rescuing a little guy for myself. Besides, Meatball needed a friend while he was sick in my guestroom. This is "Dexter". His name at the shelter was Randy and I couldn't figure out why it didn't suit him. I'm still not sure if "Dexter" fits either.

Yes, he's as pitiful looking in real life as he is in this picture. Poor little guy was really sick, so he and "Meatie" are hangin' with the homies in the guestroom. Dex is a sweetheart - about 8 weeks old. He came into the shelter after somebody had shaved him. Why they did it, I don't know. He's REALLY emaciated. It's like holding a tiny skeleton. He looked SO happy to see some toys! He has earmites which kind of make me gag. Don't ask me why - but anything that has microscopic bugs makes me puke. Tomorrow Dex goes to the vets!

It's been a busy weekend with cat transporting and phone calls. It felt good to get my hands "dirty" a little bit. Tonight I'm nursing a nasty cold, so am not feeling very poetic with regards to writing. Why do I always get sick around the holidays?

I wish I could give my little guys in the guestroom upstairs some chicken soup.

A Spicy Little Meatball!

The first time I laid eyes on Meatball wasn't the day I actually rescued him. I was at the shelter to rescue another cat for someone else and I still had a houseful of cats. His name at the shelter was "Macky" and he was a live wire! His eyes begged me to rescue him (not to mention his paws sticking out of the cage!)

As it turns out, Kenny and Spenny were adopted, so I literally fled to the shelter to rescue my little 12 week old hellion.

I put Meatball in my washroom and came back an hour later to check on him. I found him swinging from my shower curtain. The little bugger! Before I could catch him, the shower curtain came crashing down on the floor! I knew my home was going to be a proverbial playground for this guy.

I really should've named him "Flash Gordon". I swear, he goes from one thing to another...leaping on the other cats...leaping on the couch...he runs....he leaps...and I'm worn out just watching him! Can you imagine a kitten like this in a home with NO cat friends to play with? OMG.

Unfortunately, I woke up this morning to a sick little Meatball. He was definitely not himself and his body was hot. I wrapped him up in a blanket and started rocking him in the rocking chair. Good Lord, what was I thinking? hahahaha! Good thing we didn't have any diapers in the house, or I would've been changing him too.

By noon, he was VERY sick and I was was becoming more and more alarmed. He was mouth breathing, and lethargic. Although I could've taken him to the rescue's vet, I called my own vet and got him in right away. He had a high fever (duh!). After some proper medical treatment and my $250.00 credit card payment, Meatball is back home and on the mend.



Call me selfish, but I'm sort of enjoying the "quiet Meatball". He's snuggly and doesn't want to go anywhere other than my arms.

Lord help my Christmas tree when this little guy is feeling better!

Welcome to my house, Little Meatball. We're very glad you're here and I'll love you with all my heart for whatever time you have until your "forever family" comes along to take my place.

Bozz!

It never ceases to keep me in a state of awe when I rescue a cat from the shelter and see the immediate transformation in him or her. People think they're such "dumb animals" and don't realize the depression, sense of abandonment, and utter desperation they feel when left at the shelter.

I had the priviledge of rescuing a VERY cute guy from the shelter that had been there for a while. His name was "Bozz" and thankfully was so ridiculously sweet the staff at the shelter could never see to marking him for euthanasia.

The picture Kim took when Bozz arrived at the shelter speaks volumes for every "pet" that arrives there:
Somebody saw Bozz's picture on the shelter site. (You can see the pictures of these cats for yourself - the link is in my "Sites I Really Like" section.") Her name is Cindy and she has her own "diva cat" named Willow. She wanted to rescue Bozz and give him a home sight unseen! Holy Moly! I love these kind of calls! I feel like the freakin' Stork!!! I brought Bozz home with me for the afternoon to hang out until it was time to leave to meet his new Mommy and his new sister Willow.

As God is my witness, these are the pictures taken in my washroom within 5 minutes of his arrival from the shelter:

It doesn't look like the same cat. He's relaxed. He's happy. He's SAFE!! I don't know how he knows he's safe. Could it be the baby talk I'm babbling at him? Could it be that I'm smooching him, brushing him, and promising him anything that he wants? Within 10 minutes of these pictures, he flopped over on his back for belly rubs. I felt like calling Cindy and telling her she couldn't have Bozz. :)

We arrived at Cindy's lovely home and without a doubt, Cindy was thrilled with her new boy. I wish I could say the same for Willow. Willow gave a "spitty hiss" and fled for higher ground. Bozz didn't care.

I don't know how....but Bozz knew he was home. You're welcome big guy...it was my pleasure.

A Letter to Kenny & Spenny

Dear Little Boys,

Thank you for being such wonderful houseguests. You brought such joy to our family in the short time that you were here.

Your new Mommy seems very nice! The whole adoption went very fast - so fast that I can hardly believe that you're really gone. I'm so grateful that you'll have a forever home together!

Who is going to bite my toes in the morning? How will I ever manage to use the washroom by myself now that you're gone? I was really looking forward to your first Christmas at our house, but fortunately your new Mommy already has her Christmas tree up, so you can make a mess out of HER tree! :)

I've been so emotional over the past few days, that I find it strange that I'm "OK" with you boys being adopted. Maybe it's because I really liked the lady that adopted you. *shrug*

The only thing I didn't like about this woman is that she didn't want to let you on the kitchen counters. I think I shocked her when I told her, "Look. You don't have human children - spoil the shit out of these guys and ENJOY them!"

I was glad to see her be silly with you and kiss you both when she arrived tonight to pick you up.

Little ones - I love you. I hope your new Mommy writes me and sends me pictures like she promised. You made us laugh and gave me something to talk about with my teenage son.

I pray that you'll have the very best life....

Love,

Your foster Mom - Beth

Ordinary People

I've been so emotional lately. It's starting to piss me off. David sent me some baby shower pictures from a couple that was infertile for 10 years - their baby is due in 8 weeks. I started to cry and I didn't even know these people!

Imagine how I felt yesterday: I arranged to meet a couple at the shelter. Carol and Norm wanted to rescue a cat that was going to be euthanized. When they arrived, they walked up and down the cages and agonized over each one. Carol looked at me with big tears in her eyes. There were so many and she could only take one. My biggest concern when this happens is that people will feel so overwhelmed and walk out with ZERO cats. It's happened. Folks feel like they can't make a difference by adopting just one.

There was NO way they were going to leave without a cat - at least not in my book. They came across a very ordinary little grey tabby named "Natalia". Norm took Natalia out of her cage and this little 6 month old cat began to knead in the air. She was so grateful for any affection. Norm kissed the end of her nose and called for his wife. Boooya!! Carol started to cry again when she held Natalia. Natalia rubbed her little grey tabby face all over Carol's, as Carol commented on how beautiful she was.

To me, Natalia was a very ordinary cat and Carol and Norm seemed like such an ordinary couple. But yesterday, they did an extraordinary thing. They gave a home to a cat that had no hope.

In one day, Natalia went from this discarded piece of garbage that somebody didn't want....


To a beloved member of a family....a real family...HER family.


Of course, I started to cry when these pictures came into my e-mail last night. Natalia's new name is "Peaches" because she has "beautiful peach stripes". These people and this cat aren't "ordinary" any longer. They offered their love, their home and their hearts to a little cat that had nothing and nobody.

They're all extraordinary in my book. (need tissues...STAT!)

The Love of a Mother...

It's always hard when my daughter goes back home. I feel like part of me leaves when she gets on the plane. But I need to pat myself on the back. She's a beautiful, independent, educated young woman. What more could I want?

I was fortunate enough to have a friend from the former rescue help me with a rescue of a really cute Snowshoe Mom and her kittens. The Snowshoe Mom was a real doll and the family that adopted her was thrilled.
Her kittens however....are another story. Bless their little hearts - they apparently had a black and white Dad who was obviously a travelin' man. Poor babies ended up with some unfortunate markings and are REALLY homely: (May lightening strike me for saying such a thing!)


My friend is keeping the two "ooogly" ("oogly" = ugly) kittens in her washroom for a week until they can go into a Petsmart store. Lord help 'em...it's probably the only way they'll get adopted. They certainly aren't photogenic, nor are they that affectionate. *sigh* Oh well, at least they're safe and somebody will take them home and love them forever.

I couldn't help but think about the Snowshoe Mom tonight and wondering if she's missing her kids like I'm missing mine tonight. Maybe she's happy to have her own space after her and her kittens shared a tiny cage. Maybe she's thinking, "Thank heavens they're off to find their own lives!" or maybe she's wondering what happened to her babies.

Tonight? I'm wondering what happened to my "babies":

A Daughter, A Boyfriend and Meatball

My baby is arriving from Southern California today. She's not really a "baby". She's 24, a Registered Nurse and a lovely, independent young woman. Like the rest of my crew, I think she's coming in for a "kitty fix". She sounds more excited to see "The Redheads" than she is me! hahaa!

I always thought Katy would become a veterinarian. She's certainly bright and compassionate enough. But when the time came to decide she couldn't see herself "hurting" an animal. Even if it was for the animal's benefit. Yah. I get that. So no veterinarian in the family - yet.

Katy's new boyfriend is allergic to cats. Despite my lectures throughout her teenage years, "Never date anyone that you wouldn't want to eventually marry", she's latched on to a very nice guy that unfortunately is HIGHLY allergic to cats. Damn. I can only wait this relationship out and pray that he either gets on the Benadryl-bandwagon or they break up. I can't imagine Katy without a cat in her life.

The boyfriend loves animals and has the cutest little dog named "Meatball". God, I love that name. I'm going to name the next foster cat "Meatball". Katy sent me a picture of herself with Meatball. I'm in love.

I realize it's totally lame to post a picture of somebody else's dog in my cat rescue blog. But you have to admit, that is one cute dog, right?

Katy called me on the way to the airport this morning and asked which of the kitties would be sleeping with her tonight.

Like mother - like daughter. :)

What's in a Kiss?

I love kissing my cats. Cats don't care if you have bad breath or smudged mascara. I might be fooling myself, but I really think my cats like to be kissed. It's part of who I am with my cats. I kiss 'em when I pick them up. I kiss 'em before I put them back down.

I find it amusing when a new foster cat gets kissed the first time. They always look really confused but they come back for more. Even my 17 year old son gets into smoochin' the foster cats: (I hope he isn't ticked at me for posting these pictures of him kissing the kittens. If guys only knew what a turn-on it is for girls to see a guy so vulnerable as kissing a kitten! Swoon!)

We want our foster cats to know that they're part of the family for however long they're with us. They get kissed just like the rest of the gang, so they might as well grin and bear it:

Let the torture begin! (Don't you wonder what they REALLY think?)

I've been "caught in the act" by people who aren't animal-people. They look at me with such disgust. Seriously. If they knew how much joy a pet can give you....*sigh*...

But I'm preaching to the choir, right?

It's a Paaarty!

Soooooooooooo....the boys are out and "aboot" with the rest of the gang. The transition went smoothly with very little hissing! That's always such a pleasant surprise. :)

Within the first 5 minutes, one of the little boogers climbed the screen on one of the windows, and the other managed to lodge himself in an open dishwasher. Children!!! Regardless, we're all having a ball and I thought I'd capture the excitement in pictures and post them here:

Lordie, these guys are CUTE, CUTE, CUTE! I can hardly keep my hands off of them!

Willy always hisses at the newcomers - but he was pretty well behaved this time!

Meeting Maggie for the first time was quite the ordeal. Maggie is such a trooper, bless her 10 year old heart.
Thomas was a little worried at first, but was out playing with the kittens within minutes! Good boy, Thomas!

It doesn't take long for them to learn that breakfast is served on the window seat in the kitchen!

Needless to say, I feel comfortable in leaving them alone with my troops while I go out and do some Christmas shopping today. David is procrastinating with the Christmas lights and I'm DYING for a Tim Horton's coffee.

Somebody barfed on my comforter this morning, so I'd better add that to the "To Do List". How pathetic am I? :)

Quickie Update

Tomorrow is the big day! "The boys" are coming out of quarantine and with the rest of the gang. Poor guys have been mewing at the door and desperately want to hang out with the family. It's been 6 days since their rescue and 10 days since their vaccinations. I know I'm pushing it...

It's always stressful when I introduce my cats to the new guys. Everybody hisses and I'm always embarrassed for my cat's poor behaviour. I'm going to be home most of the day tomorrow to monitor the introduction. (David is putting up the Christmas lights, and I'm providing lots of "ooooh's and aaaah's", along with hot cocoa.)

I'm looking forward to having my guest room back. My daughter arrives next week on Wednesday from California and I've got to get the place cleaned up. She's going to fall in love with these redheads. My son arrived from Guelph with friends to have a "kitten fix" too.

Everybody thinks we should name them "Kenny and Spenny". I have a tendency to agree - they have such different little personalities and one is definitely more ornery and outspoken than the other. (I'm not telling which one!)

Wish me luck with the intro's tomorrow! (Please forgive the quick post - I taped a 2 hour Grey's Anatomy last night and I'm DYING to watch it.)

The Redheads

My Mother tells me that every time I get a new foster cat I always say, "OMG, Mom...these are THE CUTEST ONES EVER!" But seriously, I think these guys are the cutest ones ever! Look at their little red faces and tell me you don't think they are absolutely perfect in every way. (*wink*) They're going to be in quarantine until the end of the week, so it's like a constant "purr-love-fest" every time I walk in the room. If you have a moment when you're not feeling good about yourself - just open the door and walk in. Who needs drugs and alcohol? Just surround yourself in pure adoration.

Like all new Moms I've taken a million pictures of my new foster kids. Picking out the perfect assortment of cuteness for the rescue website takes a certain knack. I wish I could tell other foster homes the importance of a good picture. Bazzle was adopted in a week....could be luck... or it could be a really outstanding picture. But I digress...

It's going to be interesting to see if these guys are really bonded or not. Right now, I would love to see them adopted together. But once they're out with my gang, they'll either remain together or they'll spread out and play with everybody.

Take some insulin. Here are a few more pictures:

I'm in love. I pray these little guys stay well. If they don't, I'm grateful that I have the time and heart to get them through whatever they need.

Rescues & Limits

What is it about these rowdy redheads that I can't resist? As promised I went to the shelter today and came home with brothers. They're about 16 weeks old and are they CUTE with a Capital "C"!!!

Of course, they purr'd the moment I picked them up. David is already calling them "Dink 1" and "Dink 2". I'll have to think of some better names than that. Somebody stop me from calling them "Nate Dog" and "Taylor Hanson"!!!!

I just went into the bathroom to check on them and in typical redhead fashion, the bag of cat food was ripped open and the toiletpaper was unrolled. *sigh* Never a dull moment!!

David went with me to the shelter today and of course I cried and begged to take "just one more". I wanted him to see me holding this little tabby girl that was purring. I was sure that seeing my eyes brimming with tears would have him crumbing. I'm glad he was strong. Two foster cats have always been the best fit in my house. Any more than that, and things get pretty chaotic. If anybody who is reading this blog can see it in their heart to take her, please let me know. She's just a baby - only 16 weeks or so:

Right now, I miss having my own rescue. I would've taken her anyway and figured it all out later. Maybe I should stop going into the shelter. It hurts to have such a limit.

Needless to say, I'm thrilled with my two new guys. I love them already. My heart hurts for the ones that were left behind. The shelter was "at capacity". It's going to be a horrible euthanasia day on Tuesday. At least there's two orange kittens that won't be there when the vet arrives.

I've Never Been Lucy Ricardo

I've never been the type of girl that permitted any man to tell me what to do. But I'm sitting here squirming in my chair as it's 3:20 on Wednesday afternoon, and I'd really like to have gone to the shelter today to rescue a cat or two. However, David and I are leaving for Montreal tomorrow morning for a few days on another little romantic trip.

Don't get me wrong - I'm VERY happy to be going away to a gorgeous hotel in Montreal for a few days of shopping, pampering and romance, but my heart is really pulling towards some poor cat that won't be there on Saturday when I return. David told me, "Don't go to the shelter until we get back....you can't ask Will (my son) to take care of a new cat, what if the cat gets sick?"

Why can't I ask him? Shit. Why can't I TELL him to take care of the newbie? I've been giving him community service hours for his help with the rescue. Why on earth am I sitting here listening to my husband telling me to "wait". Probably because he's right and I hate that.

I feel insanely guilty for not going to the shelter today, and snarly because I let a man tell me what to do.

This is NOT a good combination for which to start a romantic few days. Relax Beth, relax....

A Letter to Bazzle

To My Sweet Big Boy,

I'm going to miss you, Bazzle. Your new family was better than I could have wished for and so excited to give you a forever home. They asked me about what you liked and disliked. They were very happy to continue the "9 p.m. Snacktime" with the Temptation Treats too!

How could they NOT fall in love with you? You were an absolute gentleman and they were in awe at how handsome, quiet and affectionate you were.

Margaret promised me that you would be sleeping with her tonight. She said she had a big comfy bed and was very happy to share it with you. She promised me she'd never have a boyfriend that was allergic or didn't like cats. She would love you forever and ever.

I know you were worried when I put you in the crate. I hate that part too. It's the part where I try to explain to you that everything is ok and you're not being abandoned again. It's the part where I beg you to understand that this is a new beginning for you and not an end.

Margaret promised me that she'd call me tomorrow and tell me how your first night was.

I'm going back to the shelter to rescue another sweet cat that needs a home where he too can be loved and nurtured until a forever home can be found. I know there will be another hopeful face - like yours - peering through the cage bars. Or maybe somebody that has lost all hope.

Thank you for being such a wonderful houseguest, Bazzle. I wish everybody knew how rewarding it is to take in a homeless cat and turn their life into something wonderful.

You made me feel like I am *somebody* today.

Love,

Beth

Moving Quickly!

Holy crap! I got an adoption call on my Bazzlicious tonight! She sounds very nice - no other cats, but would like to have a dog in the future. Typical of me, I didn't want her to wait to meet Bazzle. (Strike while the iron is hot) She's coming tomorrow night at 7:30. At first she said, "My best friend has my cat crate, so maybe I should wait until next weekend to meet him when I have my crate."

I choked on my Diet Coke - "Nooooooooo....you can borrow MY crate!" Good Lord - you can't let people wait too long to meet or take home a cat. The inevitable friend comes along and offers them a "free kitten", and you're shit out of luck.

This new rescue I'm with was a good choice for me. They're professional and they move quickly. Two attributes that I'm rather fond of. :)

Life Among the Savages

Today was the day. I opened the door to the guestroom and let Bazzle out with the rest of the crew. He had been crying at the door and my other cats knew he was in there. I expected the usual hisses and swipes. But much to my surprise there was nothing! (Not even Willy who ALWAYS hisses and takes a swipe.) Bazzle walked right up to everybody and gave them each an individual little "love rub" against their head. God, I love that cat.

He's spent the past 2 hours meowing in wonderment over his newly expanded living conditions. David and I sat in the family room reading the morning paper and desperately tried to ignore the rhythm of the Tom Cat plaintive meow. Holy Moly - he's brutal. I periodically called out to him and he would come in and chirp happily..."THERE you are!"

Ozzy seemed to be the happiest about Bazzle's new appearance into the home. Ozzy escorted him around the house: "Heeeey new guy...you can pee *here* and pee *there* and nobody cares! They keep loving you and petting you anyway!" *sigh* I'm afraid Ozzy would be right. Fortunately, Bazzle made the decision to pee in the community litterbox. Gooooooood boy, Bazzle!

My two orange cats Jackson and Wilbur are in another room and don't know that Bazzle is out among the savages. It'll be interesting to see how that goes. Jackson is such a crap about new cats. But he always relents and makes himself known as "Top Cat."
Thomas Turner seemed VERY happy to have a new friend and they instantly laid down together in the foyer. I'll have to take some new pictures later.

David and I are heading out to Costco on a rainy Saturday. God, I hate Costco on the weekends. It's a good thing Costco doesn't sell a bunch of cat toys and cat trees or I'd be in trouble. David is on holidays next week, so I'm anticipating another getaway of a few nights someplace fun. I'd love to get a good start on my Christmas shopping.

Cheers to a rather boring update. Unfortunately, that's what my life's become. A little drab. But for now - I'm OK with that. :)

Bazzle-licious

I'm always astounded at the immediate change in cats when they arrive from the shelter into a loving home. Their entire appearance "morphs". After hours of brushing, kissing and belly rubs, I think Bazzle believes he was probably euthanized at the shelter and arrived in heaven. His coat is getting shinier, and he looks at me with such adoration!

I've taken pictures of Bazzle in every possible cute pose. I suppose this comes with having T-I-M-E to actually take pictures and thoroughly enjoy my foster cat. I haven't had that luxury in a long time. Time to lay on the floor with an incoming foster cat and let them rub and purr until I have cat hair stuck to my lipstick. Gotta love that. David and I have been sitting on the floor and giving him 100% "love time". Once again - that's something we haven't done together in a long time with a foster cat.

We haven't let "Mr. Stinky" out of my large guest washroom yet. It's a HUGE washroom with big windows in it - certainly an upgrade from a 3X3 shelter cage. His pee still stinks and I'm worried that he'll spray in the adjoining guestroom. So he'll just have to hold tight until he's no longer a "pee-pee boy". If the damn bathroom is so luxurious, why do I feel so guilty that he's in there? He's got a cat bed, cat house, toys, blankets, and big sunny windows. I show up every few hours to pet him and kiss him. He's probably thinking, "Oh god...she's baaaaaack."

I'm really grateful Christmas is coming up so I can be busier during the day. I'm already tired of hearing David ask, "What did you do today?" I feel like yelling, "NOTHING! NADA! I played with the cats!!!" Instead, I draw out a long explanation of "Laaaaundry......after I ran out of faaabric softener....blah, blah blah..." God, I'm boring myself.

David suggested joining a gym and I wondered if any jury would convict me for killing him.

As promised, here's some more cute Bazzle moments:

Hello. My name is Beth, and I'm a "Rescue Junkie".

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.

The Aftermath

It's been a weird few days without being part of the rescue. I've spent $500.00 on crap I didn't need, cleaned out some cupboards, put some free stuff on Craigslist, and watched t.v. for 4 hours yesterday - DURING THE DAY! (God, I love Judge Judy - she has just the right amount of bitchiness.) Seriously, no wonder people who retire have such a hard time at first. I went from 60 to 0 in 1.2 seconds.

Until I recently, I didn't know there was good t.v. on from 6:30 pm until 10 pm. . I've always been on the phone or behind the computer. David and I have been walking the dog more and I feel my blood pressure going down. (is that possible?)

It's been sad watching my little rescue from afar. I tried to log onto the foster list so that I could call a friend for coffee only to find that they changed my password. Gosh...they changed my password on everything. Even the rescue phone line that I'm still paying for and that rings into my own house! Shame on them. I trusted them enough to have carte blanche use of my personal credit card for 4 years. But they cut me out of the rescue's life within 12 hours of my resignation. What did they think I was going to do? This isn't eff'ing IBM, for heaven's sake. Petty behaviour. I have no time for it in my life. Maybe it was too much to ask for folks to be civil. (End "Jaded bitter rant")

My cats seem VERY happy to have me home more. Ozzy is still peeing on things, but at least I'm cleaning it up faster. hahaha. I think David is enjoying better dinners and a less tired wife. In fact, we're going downtown Saturday night to see A Chorus Line. We're leaving at noon on Saturday to a swanky spa and having a couples massage, dinner out, then the theatre and then we're staying the night at a lovely hotel downtown. Tres Romantique! (Why do I try to spell french stuff?)

I'm going to reserve judgment as to whether or not my life's improved. For now, I'm having a ball, and I deserve every moment of fun. I think I'll continue to write in my blog for a while. You never know where life will take me and with 8 "Discarded Cats" in my home, there's always something to write about.

Au Revoir (did I spell that correctly? I can spell "Adios"...I should've said "Adios")

I have retired from the rescue.

There.

I said it.

I should've written in my blog sooner, but posting the news here was the last piece to make it *so*. I contacted the board, the foster homes, the supporters and my family. Now it's just a matter of writing it here.

I've given everything to this rescue. My heart and my life, but some people didn't think that was enough and sent petty e-mails that I should be doing more. I was copied on an e-mail that I shouldn't have received. (Foiled by technology!) It was awful and it hurt me to the core. How could I give any more?? I worked at this rescue from 8 a.m. until 10 p.m. every day - seven days per week. I spent thousands of dollars of my own money each year. While our volunteers were home with their families, I was in my basement returning phone calls and emails.

It was time to resign before things got worse. I've heard about this sort of petty behaviour happening in rescues or female dominanted charitable groups. I've always been very smug that this would never happen in OUR rescue. Silly Moi.

Since I announced my retirement, the e-mails have been coming in daily from the foster families and other people that heard of my retirement - even former adopters. Some of them made me laugh, and some of them made me cry with joy. I had no idea that I made such a positive impact on this rescue or people's lives. It was wonderful. Really. I can hardly type it without crying now. I've saved every e-mail and will read them when I'm feeling low in the days to come.

I'm going to concentrate on all the GOOD things that I've done within this rescue and not go out with a chip on my shoulder. I hate being around bitter jaded people. You know who they are. They're perpetually angry. That won't be me. Like I've done with the bad days in this rescue, I'm going to move forward and make the most of it.

All my hard work is in 5 big file boxes that I'm going to pass on to the board members tomorrow. Oddly enough, my last foster cat, Mr. Jingles was adopted yesterday. Anybody who has been a reader of my blog will know that I don't believe in coincidences.

God bless the people that enriched my life and made each day beautiful. I wish only the best for the new board members and their future with the rescue.

In the meantime...I'm going to get to know my handsome husband again. (I'm still married, right?)

Frying Pans & Fire

I can always tell when I'm having a bad week when I go 10+ days without writing in my blog. I've sat down at the computer quite a few times but feel like I have nothing but sewage to write about.

Yes, it's been a rough week and a half. Our adoptions have really slowed down, and we seem to be working even harder than usual. We're still not rescuing from the shelter, but have been taking cats from the public. Great for "the public" - bad for the poor babies at the shelter. We did rescue two cats from the shelter as a "Tester", but both died shortly after rescue from Distemper.

D-- told me today that she just wants to put her head in the sand. Move over, D-- ... I'm right behind you.

My foster cat Larry was adopted two days ago...and I have a new guy named "Booker". He came right in and made himself at home. I had to laugh when my housekeepers who are from Guatelmala started calling him "Booger". I am so starved for laughter, I think I might just keep that name for him. "Booger". So if you see a cat on our website named "Booger"... you'll know I had another moment of insanity.

We've been through bad times before and the rollercoaster ride of rescue continues. Why is it when we go through these horrible periods in the rescue that it always feels like "THE WORST- EVER" ?

J-- and one of our new board members "S--" went to Peterborough earlier this week and rescued 14+ older kittens from this guy that needed help. He lives in a very rural area, and people kept dumping the cats on his doorstep. Poor guy couldn't afford to get any of them spayed or neutered, so he had multiple litters going on. According to J and S, he must've had 50+ cats in the house. Holy shit. 50+ cats in a 2 bedroom house? S-- said that the stench was so bad in his home, she started gagging and had to leave. You know that it MUST BE BAD if a cat person is gagging over the smell of cat pee. I thought we were all immune to such odours? All the cats were loaded with fleas. J-- brought the guy a TON of cat food and litter. I was blown away when the guy rejected the FREE litter and said that he doesn't like clumping litter because it's "not healthy". LOLOL!

Oh hell...if I didn't laugh, I'd cry. I've been doing enough crying lately because of the rescue and am happy to be getting out of town for the weekend. My parents are flying from Seattle to Ohio and I'm driving to Ohio to meet them for a little family reunion thingy. Family. Lordie...I'm spending the weekend with family.

Why do I feel like I'm going from the frying pan into the fire?

Not to Jinx It....But...

It feels really strange typing what I'm about to type. After several weeks of nothing but bad news....

We had TWENTY-SIX adoptions over the weekend! Not only do we have space to rescue more cats, but we are actually desperate to get some more cats into our Petsmart adoption centre locations.

I'm sitting here trying to soak in this most enviable position. Seriously...if I could put this news in a bathtub, I'd be soaking in it right now - with bubbles, and Patrick Dempsey washing my back. After the incredibly shitty terrible week the rescue had last week I actually have the nerve to feel suspicious of this windfall good news.

Really...I was absolutely high as a kite all day today. I was being silly! Whimsical! My husband and children didn't recognize me. I felt a slight pain in the corners of my mouth and realized that it was my face cracking from a sudden smile. We took the dog for a walk tonight and I was skipping!

With all this good news, comes the realization that I can't rescue from our usual shelter. Distemper is still there and they're having to euthanize even the healthy cats and kittens. It's Sunday night and instead of making my usual "Sunday Night Rescue List", I'm avoiding looking at the shelter's website to see all the little faces that will be put down tomorrow.

If I could just figure out a way to get the cats BEFORE they go into the shelter. I feel like sitting in the lobby of the damn place and take them before they enter. I'll be the one in the sunglasses, empty cat crates, and car running.....(Insert Mission Impossible Theme Song here)

A Blast From The Past

The only reason I signed up for Facebook was to spy on my University-aged son and daughter. I never thought I'd end up being Facebook friends with so many of our foster homes and most recently friends from high school. At first it was fun catching up with old friends from high school....

I went to high school in a little upper middleclass college town in Claremont, California. I was voted "Most Likely to Become Goldie Hawn and Marry a Senator". With that type of Bimbo-esque label, I knew that I wanted to be someone important and influential someday. Certainly running a cat rescue organization wasn't on that list.

It was really hard for me to connect with these people from high school. They all seemed to have established careers and wonderful lives. Of course, I'm not that naive - I know things aren't always what they seem. But telling them that I run a cat rescue organization left me feeling a little less than worthy.

They all remembered I was a little bit "animal freaky". I make no apologies for that! Certainly loving animals is a label I'm comfortable with. How do I describe to these people that we started with 5 volunteers and now have 100+ volunteers? Some of the managerial duties we have put IBM executives to shame. How can I NOT come across as a complete freak that I work 14+ hours per day running the rescue for FREE?

I want them to look at our website and see that we're saving lives and we're enriching HUMAN LIVES by allowing people to adopt these amazing little furry creatures. Personally, I can't imagine my life without cats in it. I wonder how many people I've influenced over the years to get their cat spayed or neutered? Or keep a problem cat and work it out? I'll never know and it doesn't really matter.

My life is full. It's full of family, friends and the love of animals. If friends from almost 30 years ago think it's all just too weird....

Tough shit. :)

Goober Feathers

I pulled out of my driveway this afternoon in hope of scoring some wooden hangers at the local Home Sense. (Joan Crawford and I have that in common). A block from my house I saw this cute Morning Dove in the middle of the road. I thought it was odd that he didn't move as I drove slowly by. I did a U-Turn in the middle of the street and stopped to the side of him. I hung out the window to look at him, and he looked up at me and coo'd. He was a baby...he still had the light "Goober feathers" on his chest. Such a cute little fella and in a dangerous spot. Lots of cars whizzing past him. Fortunately, he was in the middle of the street.
I pulled into a side street and put on my flashers. I figured I'd go get him to a safe spot.

Twenty (20) seconds later, I walked to the middle of the street and found the little guy smashed. He had been hit by a car. The only thing left of him was a pile of his downy "goober feathers". Seriously...it was only 20 seconds after I saw him.

It was bound to happen. I knew that I would eventually crack in one way or another. After all the dead and dying cats due to Distemper, it had to happen that I would fall apart. I just stood in the middle of the road and sobbed.

I cried for the little dove, I cried for the kittens that we lost, and I cried for every damn cruel thing that ever happened to any animal anywhere. I stood there and cursed the people that didn't give a shit about a sweet little baby dove in the road. The grief came pouring out of me as I got back into my car and cried.

It felt good to let go and release what I had been feeling for the past 4 days or so. With the tears, something in me grew stronger. I can't quite describe it.

I got out of my car with an old hand towel I keep in my trunk. The least I could do is get the little guy off the road. When I approached the area where he had been hit, the body was gone. In fact, there was nothing in that spot. No feathers. No blood. It was like it hadn't happened. I know what I had seen - a mangled little Dove - blood and feathers.

I don't know what happened. I scratched my head and got back in my car and drove away. I felt oddly at peace. I felt more at peace than I had felt in a long time.

Peace and a Dove......I don't believe in coincidences. :)

Treading Water

We're still in a "State of Emergency"as I write this. More kittens have died and we've lost a few foster homes over it. Certainly fostering is not for the faint at heart. But damn....I've always had an unwritten policy that your first fostering experience should be a great one. Not, "Welcome to The Rescue....sorry about the dead kitten!"

We lost one foster home that just couldn't take the pain of losing her first foster kitten. I understand. Lordie...Lordie...I do...I do. Fortunately, we've had two that said they were still on board despite the personal anguish. Bless 'em.

I was surprised to hear that one of the other local rescues have decided to forever stop rescuing from this particular shelter due to the disease. There's no doubt that the high vet bills and our enormous debt is due to the sad state some of these cats are in when they arrive into our care.

I'm getting fed up with hitting "Delete" on the bio of the dead kitten. Can't there be a better word for it? Something to soften the blow for us? "Delete" sounds so final, ugly and uncaring.

D-- spoke with a homeopath that is shipping a special "Brew" for her to help build the immune systems on these kittens. The lady told her that there is no reason for these kittens to die of Distemper. We're all so desperate. I pray that it works. I can't imagine how our veterinarian must feel. I had a foster home drop off a Mom and 4 kittens last night at 10 pm at his office.

I'm looking forward to the end of this. We should know more by the weekend. In the meantime, we're all looking for joy in the little things. A foster Mom sent me the following picture of "Biff" today. She bought him this tent at Ikea and she says he hardly ever leaves it! He goes on periodic "recon missions to see what the other cats are doing" and runs back. The picture made me smile (although my face cracked)

Hope it makes you smile too:

A State of Emergency

I knew this morning that this would be the title of my blog when I wrote tonight.

The fact of the matter is, we have a dozen or so dead and dying kittens in a matter of 24 hours. Distemper was in the shelter when we rescued kittens last week. We didn't know it. I thought we had passed the "Hot Weather Distemper" time. Usually, we see it hit the shelter in the summer. Silly moi....I thought we were free and clear.

I had been so excited about our 8 new foster homes from last weekend. It's always a renewal of my excitement in rescue when we get new volunteers. Much to my absolute horror, the phone started ringing this weekend with our wonderful foster homes whose hearts were breaking over the death of their kittens. Some of them woke up to dead or dying kittens, others took them to the vets and let them die peacefully there.

Distemper is such a nasty disease and it takes no prisoners with these babies. One minute kittens are playing happily...the next they literally drop over and are dying with in an hour or so. There's really nothing that can be done for them medically. It's a helpless feeling.
I've spent the weekend jumping every time the phone rings and dreading looking at my e-mails.

I'm very discouraged tonight and I know it's not over. We had one foster home lose a kitten this weekend and she knows that 3 more have been exposed in her home. She referred to her Sunday evening as "Death Watch".

I know how she feels. My ability to be encouraging and hopeful is on a "Death Watch" too.

An Update on "The Waiting Game"

After a great deal of anguish and ridiculous negotiation, "Princess" had her surgery and is resting comfortably at home with her owner tonight. I ended up "donating" $100.00 out of my own pocket towards her VERY discounted $550.00 surgery. The vet kindly reduced his fee to make it work.

I saw "Princess" while I was at the vet the other day. It was right before her surgery. I remembered her immediately. She looked scared and sweet.

I can't help everybody like this, but I couldn't let this little girl die because a senior citizen and her son didn't plan appropriately for the cat's medical expenses. We ALL had too much vested in her - financially and emotionally to let her die without a fight. Maybe I felt responsible that I didn't ask enough questions of the lady. We always worry that a senior will pass away before the cat, so I always ask about a Plan B. But I didn't ask about her ability to pay for the cat's future medical expenses.

The senior lady's neighbours had contacted me too...I was really under a lot of pressure to help. E-mails with all capital letters, "EMERGENCY..." Once again, people were rallying around "Princess". The rescue couldn't afford to help financially, so what else was I supposed to do? I educated the son, the neighbours and anybody else that would listen that "Princess" needs special fibre food for the rest of her life. NO MORE WHISKAS. They all agreed to pay the extra few $$'s to insure Princess would be eating the proper kibble.

I admit, I was really happy to receive a very kind "thank you" voicemail from the son tonight. At least he appreciated my effort and I know a little senior lady that is VERY happy to have her Princess back tonight.

I'm glad too. :)

The Waiting Game

I needed to vent this morning. I received a call a few moments ago from a man whose mother adopted a cat from us. While it's still fresh, I wanted to post it here with hope it'll help me figure out what to do:

Adopter: My Mother adopted a cat from you guys in February this year and now it's constipated and not eating. The vet said it's going to cost $1000.00 to fix her up.

Me: (knowing where this is going) I'm sorry to hear that. Why are you calling me?

Adopter: She doesn't have the money.

Me: She needs to get the money. The cat is obviously very ill and needs help.

Adopter: Will you take her back?

Me: Huh? We don't have the money either. Why on earth would your mother adopt a cat if she had no intention of taking care of his medical needs? We're in the business of RESCUING - not taking cats back because an adopter doesn't want to pay for medical care.

Adopter: My mother thought she was adopting a healthy cat.

Me: You've had her six months. She was very healthy. She's probably STILL healthy but ingested something and is in pain. Why don't you take her to a less expensive vet and get another opinion on cost?

Adopter: I don't have time to take her around to another vet.

I don't want to say how this conversation ended. The saddest part is that this is a cat we spent over $3000.00 on when she arrived in our care. We were so happy when she was adopted by a lovely senior lady. I did give him a name of two veterinarian's that are known for not being super expensive.

What makes people call me over things like this? It ruins my day and I agonize over it. I agonize over the decision to adopt her to these people. I feel totally responsible and I shouldn't. It's THEIR responsibility and they're blowing it. I could take this little cat back. She HATES other cats and I have no place for her.

I'm hoping and praying these people rise to the occasion. In the past, I used to react very quickly: "You're an idiot, but I'll take the cat back!" That's one of the ways we ended up 5 figures in debt.

Now I wait. My stomach hurts and I still don't know if I'm doing the right thing.