Taz would have wanted us to get another cat. We knew he would. Everybody who losses a pet grieves differently. Each time one of my furbabies crosses the Rainbow Bridge, I grieve differently depending on the circumstances. When my “college” cat Simba passed at the age of 19, it took me a long time to want to adopt another kitty. The vet’s office had become my second home during her treatment. I am sure it was the amount of time and energy needed to care for Simba, which made her passing so heart-wrenching. Taz would have been disappointed in us if we didn’t rescue another cat.
Joyce
“I was like, who are these people?”, Joyce had told me later. The shelter director phoned her and told her to allow us to adopt both of the remaining boys in the litter if we had wanted to. It wasn’t the first time the shelter director told an adoption counselor that (she said the same thing when we adopted “our” Max in 2012). The shelter director knew how well we cared for our pets. After all, they are our babies!!!
After speaking with Joyce on the phone, we made an appointment to go see the boys in her home. Jefferson (now Jackson) was a long-haired, solid orange buff boy. Carter (now Henry) is a long-haired, rather large, orange and white boy. The minute I saw Jackson I was smitten with him because he reminded me of my first orange boy Nemesis. My spouse was drawn to Henry. They were four months old. Jackson and Henry didn’t have the best start in life.
A Hoarding Situation
“The Boys” were taken from a hoarder’s house in a town southwest from us. It took a multi-agency/rescue approach because there were so many cats there. For more information on the complexities of hoarding cases, please follow the link below for information provided by the ASPCA:
https://www.aspca.org/helping-people-pets/animal-hoarding
The Boys (this includes Kennedy) were found in a corner of a room together eating stale bread. They were about three weeks old. They went to Joyce’s home as fosters. Bless all the foster moms and dads out there! We told Joyce we would keep her updated on their progress. What we didn’t know then was she was considering adopting Henry herself. In the rescue world, that is called a “foster fail”. Personally, I highly dislike that term. First of all, if someone is fostering animals, they are heroes in my book. Secondly, just because fosters sometimes get attached to an animal they wish to make their own pet, even more power to them I say! Joyce cried the night The Boys were no longer in her care. I had a tinge of quilt when she told us that. I kind of felt like I took them from her. This is what foster moms and dads do though – they pour all the love, care and well-being into the fosters in order to find them “furever” homes.
Lifelong Friendship
We did more than keep Joyce updated on The Boys. It started a friendship that will last until the end of time. Joyce has been busy with the shelter and life in general, so she hasn’t seen The Boys as much as she has in the past. I don’t know about how she feels, but when I look at Henry, I see Jackson as well, and it makes my heart hurt a bit. Jackson left a huge void in both of our hearts. This friendship would also yield another one of Joyce’s fosters – Kennedy – The Boys littermate who had been adopted out before Henry and Jackson. The adoption of The Boys happened in 2014. At this point, I had already gone back to volunteer at the shelter on Thursday mornings. I had to put my embarrassment, ego, and humility aside. I had wanted to go back and resume my volunteer work at the shelter. And that I did.
Not only did I want to go back to help care for rescue animals, I needed to go back. Working with rescue cats is my own personal therapy. And it’s free!!!
In 2014, Joyce was the volunteer shift supervisor Friday mornings. Eventually, I did both Thursdays and Fridays for awhile. Eventually, I dropped the Thursday shift, and only did Friday’s. During this time I had found my “niche”, and I hadn’t even realized it. It was my work with “Chunky Monkey”, a kitty I will touch on later. It would take me six years to realize what my greatest strength was. Better late than never!
