I recently blogged that I’m not a crazy cat lady because I have only one feline. To be honest, I’m more a crazy dog lady. I have three, but could easily bring home three more if not for county regulations and the likely wrath of my neighbors.Besides, my family might have me committed for evaluation of my mental stability (or instability) should I rescue more dogs. Trust me, I’m relatively normal. Doctors can examine my brain all they want. They won’t find anything.
Wait, that didn’t come out right…Well, you know what I mean.
Anyway, I don’t know why there isn’t a similar stigma with people who own numerous dogs, but God forbid one has, say, five or more cats. Suddenly they’re labeled looney. You can see the judgment in their eyes, their sideways glances and raised eyebrows.
Hum…and here I thought she was normal. Boy did she fool me. Five cats! What a freakoid.
I’m assuming five cats might be the social cut-off point because I’m not sure what constitutes too many. Five sounds reasonable to me and also gives me some leeway before being forced into that padded room.
That’s because today I am one cat closer to crazy.Yes, dear friends, I now have two felines. Now, before you start looking at me sideways, let me say I didn’t actually choose to have another cat. She chose me. But isn’t that always the way? Still, I’d like to make that purrfectly clear.
In our cat rescue, we trap for spay/neuter on average around 350 ferals a year. Many of those are kittens we’re able to socialize for adoption. The rest go back to their outdoor homes. But sometimes we miscalculate in assuming whether a particular kitten will be adoptable. And that’s precisely what happened with Savannah (Savvy).Last November we caught 20 of Savvy’s siblings under a grocery store in rural Marin. Unfortunately, the store owner waited until the cats were too old before calling us, so only two could be socialized. Savvy fooled me into thinking she was one of those.
After weeks of fostering , I knew she wouldn’t pass evaluations at the shelter because, well, she’s a scaredy cat. Savvy hides, a major turn-off for prospective adopters looking for cuddly, playful kittens.
At some point I realized it was too late to return Savvy to a feral life. She was what we call a “tweener” – stuck between being feral and domestic. So what could I do?
I can sense you rolling your eyes right about now. But before you judge me too harshly, just know that two cats are my limit.Anyway, I’ll have you know Savvy is adjusting nicely to my three dogs and cat, Oliver. In fact, if I brought her to the shelter today, she’d get adopted. But no way can I do that; she’s now part of my animal family.
Now don’t get me wrong; Oliver is not as thrilled with Savvy as she is with him. He’s still not entirely certain we should keep her. For instance, some days he grooms her like a doting father. Two minutes later he’s pouncing on her like a sumo wrestler. But Savvy’s okay with that. She’s one tolerant cat.
When the dogs attempt to chase her, she rarely runs. They think she’s no fun at all. Savvy has a forgiving nature and doesn’t hold it against Oliver when he shuns her attempt to snuggle with him.
A minute after he rebuffs her, she playfully hides under the bed to ambush him. Soon there’s a cry, whereupon Savvy emerges looking sheepish.
Hum…perhaps she’s not that forgiving after all.
I tell ya, it didn’t take Savannah long to work her way into my heart. She now refuses to sleep in her own bed, preferring either my Greyhound’s extra-large bed or the crook of my neck.
She hogs the beam of sunlight that sweeps across the bedroom floor. She refuses to let me cut her nails and uses them to playfully toss a tennis ball in the air. When she’s happy, she flicks her little stub of a tail. Needless to say, it’s always flicking.
So anyway, that’s the story with my newest addition – cat #2.
As usual, I now have a new foster cat. And here’s the thing: I have a feeling she won’t be adoptable either, so she’ll need to be returned to her outdoor home. There’s no way I’m keeping another cat. Absolutely not.
You believe me, don’t you?