A Proud Day to Be in Rescue

I'm just getting back from the shelter after a rocky start to my morning. I'm sitting in my windowless basement this morning answering e-mails etc, when all the lights go off! It's pitch black and I can hear the dog barking on the otherside of the door. I grab my coffee mug and I'm ready to pour scalding coffee on the intruder. I run face first into a pole - I panic and throw my coffee into the air and it hits the couch and far wall. *sigh* Of course, the lights come on shortly afterwards. On the way to the shelter, I choke on a piece of apple and have to pull over on the highway. I poise my finger on the 9 button to start dialing 911, but the apple comes flying out.
I'm still gasping with tears and mascara pouring down my face but I get back on the highway...

I'm a trooper...despite the morning delays, I make it to the shelter on time. I'm so excited for this rescue. One sweet girl named Agatha is going to her forever home tonight. She has a wonderful adopter who has 2 other calicos. Talk about a house full of prima donnas!

Agatha probably weighs all of 5 lbs. She had some sort of head trauma and is probably blind. She's adorable and she's sweet, sweet, sweet. I'm thrilled she's going to a wonderful home!

I also rescued a very handsome boy named Isaac:

Isaac is going to a foster home with two other male cats his age. I bet they'll all have a ball. His foster Mom is new with fostering - it's so nice to hear the excitement in someone's voice! It helps me remember what it was like when I first started. Look at that white tip on Isaac's tail!

The only thing that makes me happier than rescuing a senior cat, is rescuing a black cat.

This is Denzel. :) He's about 4-5 years old and hasn't stopped purring since he arrived in my home. He and Isaac are hanging out together until it's time to go to their foster home. Denzel is going to a home with 5 other cats. His new foster Dad asked for a "big, sweet black cat" - Well Ian, Denzel is your man!

I'm very excited to drive into Toronto tonight and play stork. I've desperately tried to forget that tomorrow is a euthanasia day at the shelter and many will die that I left behind today. But I've made a difference in the lives of Agatha, Isaac and Denzel. (My friend in rescue took Agatha home with her (along with HER favourite: Aeden) and is keeping her until her new Mommy can pick her up. )

I want to give a very special "Thank you" to Brenda who is making it possible to get so many cats out of the shelter with her inspiring posts on Craigslist. It's a day to be proud to be in rescue.

The Forgotten Child

Most people associate me with cats. I love cats. But I'm also an "animal person". Nothing bugs me more than someone saying, "I'm a dog person" or "I'm a cat person". Why can't you love ALL animals?

I'm using my blog today to introduce my forgotten little girl - "Maggie". Maggie is my baby. She's 10 years old and puts up with more crap than any dog should ever put up with. Her nose has been bloodied by frightened foster cats and she often takes a back seat to the many cats in the house.

When Maggie was a puppy, she could've given "Marley" a run for his money. She was the rowdiest puppy I had ever seen. I took her to obedience school, but the instructor told me "don't bother..." after the first class. I loved her anyway.

As the tan fur around Maggie's "beak" slowly turns white, it reminds me that I need to spend more time cherishing this sweet dog. She doesn't ask for much anymore - a ride in the car on the way to Starbucks, a walk on a beautiful day, and the milk from my cereal bowl.

Maggie will growl and bark wildly at squirrels and other dogs. If David pretends like he's hurting me, she will raise her lip ferociously. She's my little protector and when she was younger would wait patiently by the front door and wait for my daughter to come home from dates.

Maggie isn't a purebred anything. She's simply sweet and the most expressive dog I've ever seen. When her 14 year old partner dog "Riley" passed away from cancer a few years ago, Maggie stood vigil by the front door and waited for him.

So when folks tell me, "I'm not a dog person" - I want them to meet my Maggie. I love you, ya goofy girl :)

A Tabby Infestation

I don't know what I was thinking. Usually, I act pretty tough when I go to the shelter. But something happened to me today between rescuing a little-old-lady cat and helping a sweet ol' Tom cat go home with his new family that must've made me put down the wall.


This is "JFK". He's the latest Turner foster and a 6 month old hellion. I now have THREE adolescent males and it's wild in here. (Thank God they're all going to be neutered tomorrow. )I took JFK out of his cage at the shelter and was just going to let him run around a little bit, but he wouldn't leave my side. He would rather be with me than exercise. I couldn't leave him there. I just couldn't.

Because he's the FIFTH tabby in the house right now, I'm figuring David won't even notice a new guy. I was right. JFK jumped up on the kitchen table during dinner and David called him "Truman".

I think even Ozzy is confused about this guy:

Seriously...it's not that I have a "thing" for tabbies. I love ALL cats. It's just that this guy happened to be a tabby and he was SOOOOO sweet. *sigh* JFK has an exotic look. Ok. He's a bit ooogly. (aka: "ugly") His face is a little too long and his ears are a little too big.

Don't send me any hate e-mail. I said that about my kids when they first arrived too.

Just Another Sunday

"Ike" is officially out and about with the rest of the Turner crew. He was supposed to come out of quarantine a few days ago, but he was sneezing snot all over the place. (Sorry for the graphic description) Ike is still sneezing a little bit, but he's was DYING to be out with the family.

Ike and Truman (hahahha...I love saying those names together) were buddies immediately. They played and played like a couple of 5 year olds on the playground. Seriously, it was like they knew each other already.

Oddly enough, none of the other cats hissed at Ike! Usually, somebody gets their nose out of joint when there's a new foster cat. But Ike was an immediate success in the house.

Much to my surprise, Ike climbed up into David's lap this morning and helped him with the Sunday Crossword puzzle. My two handsome geeks with their crossword! I can feel my heart going pitter-pat already!

Little Truman has figured out how to get on the kitchen counter today too. I never know what to do in these circumstances....I mean, I'm supposed to be making Truman a wonderful cat for somebody else, and many people don't like their cats on the counter. But instead, I find myself making kissy noises and saying, "What a big boy, Truman!!" *sigh* I'm hopeless.

Tomorrow is a rescue day. I'm grateful to be meeting a very nice sounding man who is interested in adopting Nyles. He said there was "something about Nyles' picture". He's not the first person to fall in love with a cat via a picture.

It happens to me every day.

"Penny's" Happy Ending

Yesterday, I had the priviledge of connecting with a lovely sounding woman named "Kristen" that made it her mission to adopt a very sad looking little cat named "Penny" who was scheduled to die at the shelter. It's hard to believe that Kristen fell in love with the picture that I posted below. I didn't get to meet Kristen yesterday - one of our other amazing volunteers met her at the shelter. I didn't know "Penny" had a nasty cold. I understand the poor cat was sneezing, drooling and had runny eyes...but that didn't stop Kristen from taking Penny home - forever.

Of course, the best news came from a follow up e-mail from Kristen last night:

Hi Beth, Thanks SO much for all your help and quick email replies. I drove to (the shelter) and got her today. She was perfect. It was shocking seeing where she was living...I am someone that has always purchased from pet stores and never knew what shelters were like.

In the car on the way home she had a really vacant, glazed look and mostly stared straight ahead. I got her to a vet to get checked up and she got some antibiotics. I let her out in the spare bedroom for now so she has privacy to rest and get her bearings. She rubs against me constantly and her purr motor is going all the time now!!! She even played a little bit with some toys I had purchased for her!!! She is very tired and is resting now. She seems so grateful and happy....and she's getting used to me...her tail is even starting to perk up when I talk to her. I am SO happy I got her and love her to death already. Thank you so much for all your help.

She didnt really know "Penny" so I named her "Kota" from the musical term "Coda" which means "tail" in Italian....because this is her happily ever after now. I am so glad I adopted a new family member and didn't buy one from a pet store!! Thanks again, I'll continue to update!!

Of course I cried when I got the e-mail. I can hardly wait to see some pictures of...Penn.... "Kota". I'll put a box of Kleenex next to the computer this time...

The "R.M.C."

Anybody who has rescued animals for more than a few months will eventually start accumulating stuff in their own Rescue Medicine Cabinet. (RMC)

I was disgusted by my unproductivity yesterday and decided to go through all the stuff in that cabinet this morning. Holy smokes. I can't believe all the medicines - some expired - that were in there! There were labels on some medications that had cat's names that I don't remember fostering. Unbelievable!

Last night I received a call from another foster home looking for an antibiotic for her foster cat. I did find some Clavamox, after looking through 15 expired envelopes of the stuff. Needless to say, I was inspired.
I envy some shelters and rescues that have a lot of money to treat a rescued cat at the vet every single time they are sick. For those rescues who have limited funds but who have a lot of experience with sick cats, it often means we trust our instincts to properly care for them. Certainly I'm not a veterinarian, but I can assess whether or not a vet trip is necessary. I've asked a lot of questions over the years to those who are more educated and have more experience than I. I have no pride. I'll ask.

Rescues should be grateful to find experienced foster homes willing to give medications, SubQ fluids, and care that often means getting up in the middle of the night. These are the volunteers that save rescues thousands of dollars each year! I find it sad when these volunteers are often mistreated, underappreciated...or worse....ignored.

If nobody else will tell you, I will: "Thank you." Thank you for buying, keeping and storing medications, food, and shit that you would normally throw out. Thank you for buying kitten formula "just in case" you might need it. Thank you for SHARING the stuff you bought with your own money and your wealth of knowledge with new volunteers who ask.

And those that don't appreciate you? Screw 'em.

Boredom on a Snowy Day

It's one of those really snuggly snowy days. I should use this time to clean something, but have decided writing in my blog - even if it's something lame - would be far more entertaining. This morning I went around and took a few pictures. I don't know why -as I said, I'm in complete avoidance of anything productive or important. I managed to pluck a hair from my chin, but that was about all that I could mange in the way of productivity.

The first picture is of my new guy - "Ike". He's VERY sweet and looks just like my Thomas.


Of course, he started to sneeze this morning which will slow down the introduction process.
Ozzy has to be the most photographed cat I have. I thought he was looking VERY cute and as bored as I am this morning. (Note for Grocery List: "Buy Lint Roller")

I don't think I've posted a picture of my little "Bowling Ball Cat" Pella. Pella is probably the perfect cat. She never does anything wrong and makes "honking" sounds instead of meowing. I bought the striped cat bed a few months ago for $20.00 - it matched my decor (always a bonus when buying cat-related stuff). But NOBODY would sit in this cat bed until I put it in a really ugly box....hence you see how happy Pella looks. Unfortunately, I don't decorate in "Early Retro Brown Box", but I don't think Pella cares. Occasionally, my senior cat "Bob" gets confused and I find "The Lone Turd" (T.L.T.) in the box, but that doesn't seem to keep Pella from enjoying the moment.

So that's it for now. I'm going to yell at motivate my 17 year old son to shovel the driveway. I've checked my Facebook page a million times today to check for something exciting happening in somebody else's life. I've called my David at work twice. He's fasting because he's having a colonoscopy (aka: "Roto Rooter") tomorrow. He's cranky, so I doubt I'll call him again.

We need some new cat toys in this house.

What a Good Rescue Day Looks Like

It was a good rescue day today. I love being able to say that. There's lots of speculation as to whether or not distemper is currently in the shelter or if it's old news. Yada...yada...yada.... I decided to rescue anyway. Normally the "D" word scares me, but the shelter looked pretty full today.

Rescue #1 is this handsome boy named "Barkley". I drove Kim nuts today debating on whether or not to take him. His ears were infected and I was really worried the vet wouldn't neuter him. Man, he stunk SO badly. The vet called me this evening...poor guy had a HORRIBLE abscess deep in his ear. He must've been in so much pain. Barkley is one of those big headed Tom cats that I adore. I love him. I hope his new foster Mom doesn't hate me. Tom cat smell and stinky, infected ears - Thank God for Febreeze. What did we do before Febreeze??

Rescue #2 is this pair of little future hellions. Their foster Mom loaded up her sick kids, drove 30 minutes to the vet to meet me and pick them up. Thank you! Thank you! Of course, nothing makes sick kids feel better than to see two cute kittens, right? :)
Rescue #3 is my own little foster cat named "Ike". He's the same age as Truman and I thought that they might be brothers. Ok. I'm totally lying - that's what I told David. "But SWEETIE.....we can't let Truman's brother die!!!!" I don't know if David bought the story, but he knows better than to complain about a low maintenance foster cat. Anyway, Truman didn't seem to thrilled with his new brother-in-fostering. But Ike is such a sweetie, he'll fit in just fine. :)
I'm saving THE BEST rescue for last! It was my honour to meet the man that drove from Toronto to save Spike & Callie today. Spike & Callie's owner died and they were dumped at the shelter by the family. (May they burn in hell) They are both about 13 years old, overweight and SOOOOOO sweet. Harlan (the foster Dad) is probably in his mid-70's and and so excited to take these two. When I introduced myself as a foster parent, he said - "Well...I'm supposed to be a foster parent, but I'm guessin' these two will stay with me forever."

Oh Harlan...if I weren't already married...

What Is It About "Bad Boys"?

This is "Truman" my new foster. Despite a lot of pressure to name him "Cannabis", I figured this boy was anything BUT mellow! This 5 month old kitten is the rowdiest little guy I've had here in a long time!
Of course, I adore him. There's something about rowdy "bad boys" that make them very endearing to me. I guess I choose my cats the way I chose my husband - based on temperament! Hahahaha!

Truman sits in front of the mirror, side-stepping with his back arched and spitting dramatically. He's definitely his own best friend.

There's another cat in the shelter that's the same age, same tabby stripes and same rowdy behaviour. I'm DYING to rescue him. But I have Cheeto in the house and now this troublemaker. I have a weird feeling that the other guy at the shelter and my little Truman are littermates.

Anyway...Truman is out among the rest of the savages. They're all galloping around and having a ball. Somehow this isn't what I had imagined as "The Pitter-Patter of Little Feet". I've yet to see Truman actually close his eyes and sleep. So much to see! So much to do!

How could a face this cute, be sooooooooo bad??

I've got my work cut out for me to make this guy a highly adoptable little sweetie. He LOVES to play bite and wrestle. The problem is, we're not really discouraging him from being bad. We find ourselves laughing at all of his antics. It's like laughing at a naughty child - very bad parenting tactics!

But who wouldn't want to spoil the shit crap out of this guy?

Falling Through the Cracks

It's taken me years to figure out that it's normal for things to fall through the cracks sometimes. For example, I was at the doctor recently and they forgot about me in the waiting room. I simply "Fell through the cracks".

That's what happened recently with Cheeto. A woman contacted our rescue about adopting and was screened for adoption, but she was promptly referred to the shelter to adopt. I guess the $150.00 adoption fee was too much at the time. (Although I think if you can't afford the $150.00, maybe adopting isn't the right thing for you at this moment in your life) If you want to adopt from this shelter, you have to be escorted back with a qualified rescue. This is where I come in - her call was referred to me. The woman got restless waiting for me to call her back (it was all of 4 hours) and went to another rescue. The other rescue took her to the shelter and let her adopt Cheeto with no adoption fee.

Two days later the woman comes back with Cheeto and wants to return him to the shelter. "Why?" you ask? He has diarrhea. Really. Cheeto has the squirts and she wants to return him to death row. Cheeto isn't pooping all over her house - Cheeto is using his litterbox! He has some blood in his stool, which probably means parasites, but she doesn't bother to take him to the vets to find out. She figures he's sick and wants to dump him back at the shelter.

So how did this woman fall through the cracks of not one...but TWO rescue agencies? I have no idea. She must've been very convincing. Needless to say, I was livid when I heard the news. I called the woman and really read her the riot act. She started to cry. She said she didn't have the money to take him to the vets. ((Insert HUGE "DUH"!!! here)) I mean...she couldn't afford to pay a $150.00 to a rescue agency for a cat already vetted...why on earth would we think she could suddenly afford to take him to the vet for diarrhea??

Lordie, I'm getting mad all over again. So this poor cat is wondering what the hell has happened to him. He's back in a cage at the shelter....

....at least for the night....

Because today I packed up a crate and headed back out to the shelter:
Needless to say, Cheeto is safe and happy at "Chez Turner". What a little lambchop! He's a purring orange and white lovemuffin.


Now Cheeto has another chance at a beautiful life. I won't let him fall through the cracks this time. He's going to get kissed and loved like there's no tomorrow!

A Day of "Firsts"

It was a day of "firsts"! The United States has their first African-American President and I received my first Canadian speeding ticket on my way to the shelter. "Sorry Constable Murray (you gorgeous hunk-o-police officer) not even a speeding ticket can put a damper on my day!" Being an American, it was a proud moment for my country of origin.

I had the priviledge of meeting a really wonderful man at the shelter today. He and his wife wanted to adopt an orange and white cat. When I arrived at the shelter (post-speeding ticket) I was disheartened to see a very sneezy, snotty Timmie in his cage. I was certain that Dave would not want to adopt this sweet orange and white tom cat. But Timmie purred in his arms and it was a done deal - Timmie went home with Dave!

I was a little worried that Dave's wife Pam (who had to work this morning) would be really mad at him for bringing home a sick cat. (Timmie isn't desperately ill - he just has a nasty cold.) Timmie is sneezing, unneutered and stinky. Dave: You're my hero.

They sent me some pictures of Timmie tonight. Of course, they made me cry. Nobody would argue that this is one very, happy, grateful cat - and I'm a happy, grateful rescuer :)
As for me....I have a new foster cat too. I can't figure out what to name this guy! He's 6 months old and ridiculously cute:

I hope he stays well. He was in quarantine for biting his finder, (bad boy!) So he was never with the group who had Distemper or URI. I'll post some "after shelter" pictures soon. He seems to be a rowdy little guy!

I wish the Obama kids weren't allergic to cats. I'd recommend this guy. I bet he'd look good in the White House.

Choices

I'm fosterless. My little Blue-eyed wonder left with TWBA (The World's Best Adopter) this morning. I'm wondering what cat from the shelter might be the best fit for me and my crew. Lordie - Blue's litterbox is still in the guestroom with his poop in it, and I'm sitting here trying to figure out the next rescue! I'm hopeless. :)

I went onto Kim's site and saw some cuties that might need me. Who can resist this face?

Awww....he really is cute. I wonder if he likes other cats? I love pink noses - and he's got a VERY rosie lookin' little nose.

Although - THIS guy looks like quite the character:

I make it sound happy and fun to pick out a new foster cat. But it really isn't. I know whomever I leave behind will probably die and whomever I chose will no doubt have a wonderful life ahead of him.

It's quite an ordeal to choose. I take cats out of their cage and hold them up to other cats. A gentle "hiss" is ok. But a nasty lunge or hiss and scream isn't. I can't have cats in the house that hate other cats. Imagine when I find the cutest little guy that needs me only to find that he HATES other cats and I have to put him back in his cage. Sometimes they get so excited when their taken out. "YES! Somebody WANTS ME!" I want to cry when I put them back into their cage and they look at me with such despair.

Or even worse -they look at me with complete apathy, like they've already given up.

Some Things Are Worse Than the Shelter

I didn't want to write this post, but I'm getting angrier and angrier. I wrote a similar post this time last year. If you're offended by bad words, please read no further. (Mom, this means you!)

It's fucking cold outside. I'm reading posts about people finding frozen cats and kittens. Last year was even worse for me because I was answering the rescue phone line. I'm sure nothing has changed:

"There's a cat on my front porch that's shivering and I can't bring him inside because I already have 2 cats."

"I've been feeding a stray since July, now it's cold and she's probably pregnant and freezing to death. She's so friendly! What should I do?"

"I keep chasing away this Tom cat that comes around my house. I keep squirting with a hose, but he keeps coming back. Can you come get him?"

I shouldn't be angry about these kind of phone calls. I should be angry at the scum that abandoned the cats in the first place. "Behind every feral cat is a person responsible for their abandonment."

I can't even enjoy my cozy nights with the fireplace because all I do is think about the cats who have no place to go. The frigid air must feel like a death of a thousands cuts with a knife. You can't escape the bone chilling air and nobody gives a shit about you.

A few days ago, I got a voicemail from a friend of mine in rescue. She had heard that someone moved away and left their 5 year old cat in their apartment. Neighbours had been feeding this poor thing that was now living in the ceiling of the empty apartment for the past SIX WEEKS. Six weeks this little calico girl had been living in an empty apartment. According to the neighbours these people had 4 other cats, but left her behind. She lost her whole life - her family - everything in one day.

Here's the e-mail and pictures from my friend who ended up rescuing this poor, sweet cat.:

"...thanks again I attached a couple of pictures of her (under my bed where she is living for now) they aren't great but I think she has a sad look :o( I feel terrible I can't imagine what she's thinking her 4 cat friends just dissapear one day along with her family(they had her since she was a kitten) and everything she has ever known in her house and she's abandoned there alone with nothing for 6 weeks!!!!....I could never...."

She has cuts on her face from hiding in the ceiling of the house. She's a lucky girl. At least they didn't throw her outside.

There are things worse than death at the shelter. Not many things. But some.

Being "Blue" Worthy

I still have my little Siamese guy and I'm loving him! I really understand why people don't particularly like them - they're noisy and definitely quirky. But that personality seems to suit me just fine! *wink*

Blue is such a stubborn little shit. guy! He scared me to death by not eating for 3 entire days. I spent hours on the floor with him - begging...pleading... I had a full BUFFET of food for the little booger. I warmed tuna juice, baby food - you name it. I feel like I had tried it. Until....

I started digging through my cupboards. Any good rescue person always has a variety of crap in their cupboard for this type of occasion. I thought I had opened everything until I came across a pouch of Whiskas. God, I hate that stuff. It cost .69 cents and has zero nutritional value. When I held the pouch up for him, Blue immediately starting howling! BINGO! I opened the pouch, poured it out and he ate like he hadn't eaten in 3 days.

Blue looked up at me as if to say, "Yah stupid. That's what I've been tryin' to tell you." (Except maybe in a Chinese accent or something.)

I'm getting very attached to this little man, and was disappointed when The World's Best Adopter (TWBA) called me last night about him. She was awesome. I haven't even met her and I wish she'd adopt me. Seriously. Barbara was "Blue worthy" and is coming to meet my Baby Blue Eyes on Saturday morning. She'll adopt him. Who wouldn't? He's absolutely adorable and a complete oooey-gooey loverboy!

Until then....he's mine! All mine!

Ruggles Has a New Life

I'm a little late writing this post, as my sweet foster boy "Ruggles" was adopted the day after his rescue. His new parents were absolutely wonderful and of course taken with this charming guy.

He left without a fuss and seemed very happy to go to his new home. (Yes, that's Ruggles cute little nose peeking out of the box to the left!) I find it amazing that the majority of cats seem to know they are fosters and not "permanent members".

Even more amazing is the fact that this "discarded cat" languished in the shelter - UNWANTED, then rescued, and in his FOREVER HOME the next day!! I had to laugh, because it happened so quickly that the rescue wasn't able to update the adoption coordinators of his adoption. This little guy actually had a second adoption call the day after he was adopted! He wasn't just "adopted"...but in demand! Way to go, Rug-man!

His new family sent me a lovely e-mail and some pictures. As usual, I got goosebumps and cried:

Dear Beth,

Just wanted to let you know that Ruggles is doing fine and is loving his new home! He acts like this has been his home forever, and purrs non-stop. The pictures that were taken.. 10 min after his arrival tell the whole story!

(Note from Beth: The irony that the pictures were taken "10 minutes after his arrival" wasn't accidental - I made such a big deal about what an "instant pet" Ruggles was, that Anya and Dylan wanted me to know that they experienced the same thing!)

Ruggles sprawled out on a Toronto Maple Leaf's blanket is a "YES! This is why I do this.." moment for me.

It didn't hurt that his new family are Maple Leaf fans either. :)

The New Guys :)

As promised, I went to the shelter today to rescue a very cute little Blue Point Siamese guy that was surrendered because "he was too rowdy". He's only SIX MONTHS old and of course he's unneutered. People are so ignorant. I'm sure they spent a fortune on this guy only to dump him at the shelter. They had named him "Bluebeard" (*puke*), and I could hardly wait to change it. I've named him simply "Blue". As always, enjoyed looking at his Before and After picture below:

There's the look of gratitude. He's on my lap and looking up at me SO adoringly. I melted. "You're welcome, little one".

While I was there, I couldn't help but rescue a VERY dapper guy named "Ruggles". Again - an impressive "Before" and "After" picture:

I think the most interesting part of both of these "after" pictures is the fact that they were taken TEN MINUTES after they arrived in my home. Seriously. TEN MINUTES!

Ruggles would have no part of a separate quarantine period. I tried to put him in my den, which is a VERY cool room with lots of windows. No. He wouldn't hear of it. He cried like a baby for 5 minutes and I let him out with all the other cats. My orange guy "Butters" hissed and gave him a swipe. Ruggles couldn't care less. Everybody was hissing and Ruggles seemingly *shrugged* and jumped up on the window seat and proceeded to eat. He pooped in the appropriate litterbox, (Not in the car on the way home!!! Whoo hoo!) and even tried to engage Thomas in a little bit of play. This was in the first 30 minutes!

I'm in awe. Whomever gave this guy up was a fool. He's really the perfect cat and SO handsome. Ruggles has been neutered and declawed, so I doubt I'll have either one of them for very long.

I'm in love already. (Don't I always say that?)

Taking One For the Team

I was contacted by a friend today that asked me about fostering a couple of kittens. Always an exciting question! I mentioned that I just took in two kittens on Saturday and I offered to give her my kittens since she could get them tonight! It seemed like a very good idea. Their upper respiratory infection was better and they would have her entire house to run around in because she has no other cats. The quarantine wouldn't be necessary and she has two little boys to give them tons of attention.

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 shit crap?

Filling the Void

I had to share an e-mail I received from the adopter I met at the shelter last week. She's the lady whose previous cat was found 3 weeks ago tortured, doused in gasoline and set on fire. She's a lovely human being and has kindly stayed in touch with me. Her heart was really hurting that day that she met me at the shelter. She felt guilty for wanting to fill the painful void after the horrific loss of her cat "Bailey".

This is "Eddie", one of the cats she adopted that day. His shelter picture first - then the picture of her handsome boy ONE DAY after she brought him home. The transformation is remarkable.

This handsome guy is now known as "Mr. Magoo" Think he looks happy? I do too. I cried when I got this picture.

She sent Kim and I the following e-mail (edited for length):

"Dear Beth,

Thank you so much for giving me my babies, and for the wonderful work you and the other volunteer's do in trying to find homes for these beautiful cats.

They both spent the night with mom in OUR BED. Like I told you earlier Beth it was the first night in three weeks that I slept thru the night and didn't cry myself to sleep.

Again, I cannot thank You enough. Not only have the lives of these two beauties changed but mine as well, my emptiness has been filled two fold."

As I've always said: Anybody can rescue animals. But rescuing animals and helping PEOPLE at the same time is what it's all about for me.

Beth: 3 David: 0

Sometimes I really feel sorry for my husband. David and I had a blissful overnighter at an awesome B&B in Niagara-on-the-Lake last night. As we drove into the little town, I spy a "Free Kittens" sign. I gasped...pointed...and David sped up. I wasn't happy, but I understood.

We woke up this morning to breakfast in bed from the innkeeper and got dressed slowly to start our day. It wasn't until we were about to leave the inn that I told David we had to stop at the shelter on our way home. I know. I know. Not very romantic, eh?

We arrived at the shelter and he looked surprised when I popped the trunk to expose the cat crates that had been back there all along. I'm sure he put 2+2 together and figured out why I wanted the luggage in the back seat. Hahahaha! :) Don't get me wrong - David is extremely supportive, enthusiastic and wonderful. I'm sure sometimes he thinks, "Would she just give it a rest?"

Anyhoooo.....I rescued a couple of VERY cute brothers that were marked as "Urgent":

Aren't they cute little guys? (Even for a shelter picture!) I think they're about 5 months old. The little tabby is a rowdy little guy and the grey sweetie is adorable. They're in my guestroom frolicking. I love watching these kind of guys that have been cooped up in a tiny cage suddenly have toys, sunshine and fuzzy beds. I'll get some "cute guy" pictures up soon.

What am I going to name these two? I'm totally uncreative tonight and can't think of a damn thing.

I rescued another really awesome older orange kitten for a friend of mine too. What a CUTIE! :) Poor little bugger was shaking in his cage. The whole crate was vibrating! I wish I could tell him that he didn't need to be afraid anymore. *sigh* He's in good hands with her. She has 3 other orange cats. It's like a little "Orange Fest" at her house. :)

Ok. I admit it. I suck. I wrecked the pre-romance by begging to pick up "Free Kittens" so they wouldn't be adopted by horrible people who wouldn't spay or neuter them. (The Inn was pet friendly, for Christ's sake.) I asked the Innkeeper if her dog named "Babu" could sleep with us because "I can't sleep without a cat or dog on the bed". Then we drove home from our romantic interlude with 3 crying, pooping cats.

I'm going to go in the kitchen and make David some hot cocoa and massage his shoulders. I hope he doesn't step on any cat barf on the way to bed.

I love that man :)

"Home" (For lack of a better title)

I started to write a post about the year in retrospect, but decided it's always better to look forward instead of muttering about the past. I've spent too many years looking back and questioning things. I want to tell all who read this blog how much I appreciate your comments and e-mails. It helps to know folks are actually reading this thing.

I had the honour of rescuing 4 awesome cats from the shelter yesterday. Three of the cats were filling the hearts of people who were grieving from the death of their beloved cat. One lady in particular was grieving after her 10 year old cat got outside and was found tortured and burned to death. I watched her bury her head into the fur of one of the cats she was adopting as she sobbed. Her friend was with her and they brought comfort to each other when this horrific event was only 3 weeks ago and in all the newspapers. The two cats she adopted didn't stand much of a chance in the shelter. They would end up dying there like the majority of them do.

This is Eddie (I would've named him "Eddie VanHalen") and one of the cats she adopted. I'm sure you'll agree that if any cat needs love - it's Eddie. She whispered in his ear with tears pouring down her face, "You don't have to be scared - you're going home."

(Update: I spoke with the adopter of these cats a few minutes ago. Both cats slept with her last night and she's in heaven. (I think that makes 3 of them)

I also drove another rescued cat into Toronto yesterday to meet up with a young woman that just lost her Himalayan to cancer. She wanted to adopt an older Himmie that was on death row at the shelter. His name was Zorro. Zorro was not a good traveler. He howled like a baby despite my efforts at putting on Frank Sinatra and singing "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" a hundred times. (He was quiet for a moment the first time I sang it!)

As luck would have it, the entire highway was closed and I ended up getting stuck on the road for 2 hours with Zorro....howling...and subsequently pooping in his crate. Seriously. I was 10 minutes away from my destination and the little booger pooped in his crate. It wasn't until I arrived at the meeting spot that I saw the impact the travel had on Zorro. The poor guy was drooling profusely, he had fallen over and rolled in his poop and pee.

His new Mommy wrapped him up in a towel and loved him anyway. He had a smell that only a mother could love. He was going home too.

(Update: I spoke with Zorro's new Mommy - she gave him a bath and he didn't utter a peep. He was the hit of her New Year's Eve party and slept on everyone's lap!)

My wish for 2009 would be that all the homeless pets could have homes. Although it's unrealistic to dream such a dream, I'm going to continue to do what I think I do best - save the lives of God's creatures one at a time. A special thank you to Kim and the staff at the shelter for making it possible for me to come in and rescue these little lives. Thank you for walking the walk every single day.

Calming the Savage Beast of Puberty

I was scheduled to meet a family at the shelter today who wanted to adopt a cat from Death Row. Because the shelter has no formal adoption program, the only way these cats get out is when they are claimed by their owner, euthanized or rescued. As I've said before, meeting people at the shelter is a great privilege for me. They seem to trust my judgment in helping them choose a new family member. I don't charge an adoption fee, but ask for a donation to the rescue.

There was a little guy at the shelter named "Baylee". He was only about 16 weeks and has some unfortunate markings, blesshislittleheart. Seriously, he's really a homely little kitten - but incredibly sweet.

When the family arrived, they brought their 13 year old son. He was a typical surley teenager wearing a toque and saying very little. I was irritated just looking at him - probably because I have a teenage son who has that "crappy look". I wanted to scream, "Get that crappy look off your face NOW!"...but once again, I digresss...

I took Baylee out of his cage and put him in the arms of this kid. Baylee started purring and flopped over so the kid was cradling him like a baby...and right on cue....Baylee reached up and put a paw gently on this kids cheek.

The "awwwwwwwwwwww's" filled the room. "Homely Baylee" had a forever home. :)

Later that afternoon, I couldn't stand the suspense and called the family a few hours after I got home. The kid answered the phone. I cautiously asked him how things were going with their new kitten. I didn't really expect a decent response. It's like the flood gates opened....holy crap...this kid, that didn't say ONE WORD at the shelter started with a flurry of excitement. His words ran together as I attempted to carefully listen:

"We named him Bob! His litterbox is in my room. We went to WalMart and I spent ALL the money I earned over summer and bought him a ton of toys. He's laying on my bed playing with them right now. He's the SMARTEST CAT I'VE EVER SEEN! I think he even knows tricks already..."

My eyes filled with tears. He spent all of the money he earned on cat toys. I loved this kid. The homely kitten and the awkward teenage boy were meant for each other.

No doubt they would BOTH blossom into something special.

My Favourite Kind of Christmas Presents...

I couldn't have gotten a better Christmas present this year. My little "Meatball" and "Dexter" were picked up this morning by a wonderful family to give them a home forever.

I love you little boys....be good to your new family and don't touch their Christmas tree! (Ha!)

Yesterday, I had the priviledge of meeting a wonderful man at the shelter who wanted to adopt a cat on death row. He was genuinely wonderful (yes, ladies...he's single!) and his daughter had adopted from me a few months ago. He chose Kim's favourite boy "Brady":

This guy is quite the character! Brady is 1 year old and loves to gives hugs and will headbutt your face. I think he's perfect for his new Daddy.

I also was able to rescue "Kerby" and place him into an awesome foster home. What a SWEET boy! He had been at the shelter far too long and I always worry that his time might have been up:

Kerby's shelter picture says so much about these cats. He went from this picture to this:

(I forgive you for pooping in your crate on the way to your foster home, Kerby)

I also had the priviledge of rescuing a VERY sweet Tortie Mom and her 6 newborns. Bless their little hearts. Needless to say, my little BMW was full to the brim with cat crates.

Seriously...is there anything anyone could buy me that would make me smile more than I smiled yesterday when I left the shelter with my little gang?

I don't think so. Merry Christmas everybody!