Thoughts on Fostering

Today was a big day in the crazy-cat-lady realm. I feel rather emotionally exhausted, interestingly not unlike how I felt on THE September 11th... though obviously under much different circumstances.

Last week someone put in an application to adopt Garfield, one of the three brothers who we have been fostering since early July. All week long I knew he would be going to his new home today (and therefore took a lot of pictures). I did not know that the man adopting him would also decide to take his brother Harley, too (and therefore I did not get any recent pictures of Harley). They are off to the home of a single father with two adolescent boys and a boxer puppy. All us crazy cat ladies at Feral Cat Rescue were slightly uneasy at first, because frankly, not many men want to adopt cats. I personally stewed over this all week, hoping and praying that this would be a good and safe home for these sweetest of sweet cats.

Anyway, after meeting this man and his boys at Petco this morning we were all assured that this would be a good home for Garfield, and even happier when he agreed to take one of his brothers, too. Now there is my peace of mind knowing that the kittens will have each other in yet another new environment and have feline companionship while the house is empty during the day. It's all good.

And of course, this left me in the situation that I have been pondering for weeks - if two get adopted, will I keep the third? And the answer is, yes! I signed the papers and brought Humphrey home to stay. He seems a little lonesome for his brothers but I must remind myself that he is a cat and it does no good to project my human emotions onto him. He is comfortable and loved (especially by Amy who has favored him all along because he tolerates being picked up), and that is really all that matters to a cat. For them there is no past and no future; they just live in the present and are happy there.

So, fostering kittens... emotionally draining because I get attached. How can you not when you have this handsome little silent-meower jumping around the house?

It is hard because I don't want to mourn their loss - it should be a celebration of two more cats finding a home in the world. And I need to learn to release my control-death-grip that I like to have on life and learn to trust that the needs of every little critter will be provided for, even if I am not personally the one cracking open the can of food. God cares for the sparrows and the lilies and the kitties and all of us. Right? Right. But I will miss them.

So there, my crazy-cat-lady monologue for the evening. Thanks for your patience! And by the way, the "crazy-cat-lady" bit was from Don, who referred to me as such with utmost affection, and neither he nor I consider those who take care of multiple felines to be at all crazy. At least not very crazy.