When we began fostering, it was agreed between my husband and myself that we would welcome one foster at time, meaning there would only be a total of 3 cats in our home at any given moment. Except for afew instances where we aided in helping orphaned kittens, we've pretty much been able to stick to that rule. The rescue we volunteer with is just wonderful about respecting that boundary of ours, and rarely comes to us to ask if we have any wiggle room - when they do, you know it's an emergency..........here's one of the aspects of fostering that keeps me up at night.
This is Moe. Approximately three years old by vet determination, he looks alot older don't you think? Well that's what these lovely shelter environments (and life on the streets) does to alot of these little souls. Think about any homeless man you might run into on your way through life - usually their facial features has them looking at least 10-15 years older than they really are - being totally on your own in the big city will do that to you.
The rescue had a individual lined up that was due to adopt Moe straight from the shelter, but this person's interest was fleeting and on the day he was to be rescued off of death row, this person was a no show - NICE.
So another volunteer from the rescue emailed us last night asking if it would be at all possible for us to house Moe. They are well aware of our "one foster at a time rule" - but if they ask, I know it has to be because Moe's time is dwindling quickly, and they have exhausted pretty much all other options. It was decided that if no other foster home/adoptive home steps forward, we will take him....so we're awaiting further word.
Can I just tell you how much I HATE these types of decisions when they have to be made? Can I just tell you how painful it is for us to look into the eyes of this little boy, who has so obviously suffered in life thus far, and know that we cannot give an automatic yes to helping him.............that we actually have to weigh the situation, the circumstances and stop to think? Can I tell you how much I HATE the fact that I cannot simply throw open the front doors to my house and have a transport truck with the trailer doors upon unlocking, showing kitty crate upon kitty crate of endless little furry lives that have been saved - pull up in my driveway and say "Here's every last one that was due to die today"
There are loads of foster homes that are brimming to the rafters with rescues. I applaud them for their unselfishness and unbelievable caring, and I wish that I could throw every ounce of caution ot the wind and be the same - but I can't.
Our rule exists so that we can ensure our own boys and ourselves, are not stressed out to the max by having a house brimming with cats. It's also to ensure that the number of felines within our home at any given moment, can be given equal amounts of love and attention that will help to keep everyone calm, peaceful and happy. It's a formula that has always worked for us thus far and as incredibly hard as it is when we know so much more need is out there, we try to stick by it come rain or come shine.
It's one part of fostering that is very mentally challenging and emotionally draining. You have to know your limit, you have to know what you can handle and what you can't and you have to be able to vocalize that for your good and for the good of the cats.
Our spare room will be available to Moe if that emergency presents itself and he has no other person who is able to step in and help. I'm waiting to see if that call comes and if it does - than we'll find that extra little bit of space at the Safe Haven to help sweet Moe; but how I pray that someone, somewhere will find it within their heart to also step up and step in - someone who may need Moe as much as he needs them.
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