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.