Monday, September 27, 2010


Someone from my neighbourhood approached me about adopting. They came by to meet our boys and I wasn't as anxious for Rascal (this person has a dog so I knew right away that Rascal wasn't the right fit), as I was for the other kitties in foster care waiting for their forever homes; thinking that I might just have a future "Dad" in my very livingroom! He loved them all (how could you not?), and we chatted abit about the fostering program, the cats that are rescued, and about how the adoption process works. This gentleman was very well spoken, obviously educated, was polite, well groomed and most important of all, asked all the right questions. I gave him the rescue's website and he went home to view some of the kitties online and was going to let me know if he saw anyone he was interested in.

A few hours later I got a call from him (which really meant he was interested right?), and then it went like this:

Neighbour: "So it appears that all your rescue cats are already fixed"

Me: "Yes we don't adopt out cats without ensuring their spay or neuter is already complete and the only instance where that isn't true is with kittens and even then measures are taken to ensure that that process is completed when they come of age"

Neighbour: "Hmm, well can you tell me which rescue I could go to get an adult cat that isn't fixed?"

Me: "I'm sorry?"

Neighbour: "Is that an unusual question?"

Me: "Why would you want a cat that is unaltered?"

Neighbour: "Because I think it's an animal's God given right to be able to pro create just as humans are and I don't agree with taking that right away from them because we as humans think we rule the earth and everything on it"

Me: "Are you kidding?"

Neighbour: "Am I what?"

Me: "You have to be kidding because noone, especially not a person I've just gotten finished explaining the cat over population and irresponsible pet ownership problem to, could be of such a mindset. Did you not see the countless list of cats on the rescue's website that are waiting for homes?"

Neighbour: "It's not your right to deny these animals their ability to reproduce. Just because I allow my cat to have or make babies doesn't mean I'm a bad owner"

Me: "What does it make you then?"

Neighbour: "Pardon?"

Me: "Well you just said leaving your cat purposely unaltered doesn't mean your a bad owner. I'm just wondering what you think it does classify you as then?"

Neighbour: "I'm not sure I understand the question?"

Me: "Very understandable since it's obvious you don't understand the problem."

Neighbour: "So back to my original question. Do you know where I can find cats for adoption that aren't already fixed?"

Me: "No I don't and to be honest, even if I did I wouldn't tell you."

Sunday, September 26, 2010


Another rescue volunteer has a male foster that looks so muuch like Rascal, it's pretty neat to put their two pictures side by side - even more so knowing that there not from the same litter. They are approximately the same age, both have dabs of white splashed in the same places, both have the same facial expressions and both are similar in tempermant. This foster Mom has been fostering her little guy for close to a year and it appears as though his forever home is imminent, since he had someone meet him that has fallen in love.

I don't want to think about how I will feel if Rascal is here close to a year and a forever family should appear. Someone put the question to me just the other day, and I became quite uncomfortable; preferring instead to change the subject instead of contemplate how it will feel to let him go after that much time with him as a member of our family.

In talking with my husband just the other night, I made the comment that I couldn't believe that a cat so cute and adorable, was still waiting for his forever home; to which he replied........."Well, when you haven't seen something for yourself, sometimes it's hard to realize what your missing out on".

All the cats in shelters and foster homes the world over deserve that loving indidual/s that will cherish them - but of course each of us feels that our rescue or foster kitty should be next to be chosen. That's how I'm feeling today, that it's such a travesty that Rascal is still waiting, and in all honesty, a little anxious about how much harder it will be to part with him if the waiting continues for too much longer.

Sunday, September 19, 2010

THE GREAT THING ABOUT SURPRISES...... may think you have an idea about how excited and happy it's going to make you, but more often than not, the surprises that bring us that much joy are always far better than our dreams could lead us to believe; (well at least they always have been for me) and this one was no exception.

After almost 5 months of sharing our home with us, Rascal spent the better part of yesterday afternoon snuggled up beside me on the loveseat as I took in a movie. He was pressed in against my leg as close as he could get, and even felt comfortable enough to extend his front paw so that it was touching me while he slept. What was even more wonderful to watch, is that twice he got down for reasons known only to him, and twice he came back - only to resume his previous position. It may not seem like such a big deal to others, but this is one of those joys in fostering that you'd most likely only understand if you've experienced it or something as special like it, yourself.

He was a "snuggler" with us at night on our bed pretty much from the onset when he first arrived, but since then he's always preferred to nap during the day with Silly and/or Rocky, and has never seemed to have the sense of security to get up besides us (and so incredibly close), when it's been daytime.

How we love this little boy and the precious moments such as these that will ultimately lead to beautiful memories.

Thursday, September 16, 2010


We decided that last night was as good a time as any to do the whole "Revolution" administering thing with the boys. Previously Rocky & Silly have never been overly thrilled with having this wet stuff placed on their bodies, but no reaction we've encountered with them could have ever prepared us for Rascal's.

Because this little boy isn't overly thrilled with being held (okay that's being genereous, he actually really hates it), we knew we had to be swift and quick but unfortunately we were a little delayed in that area (let's chalk it up to old age shall we) - and before I could get the capsule properly punctured, Rascal was fighting in my husband's arms so thoroughly that you would have been certain we were trying to administer a lethal injection and not a teeney, weeney bit of liquid onto the back of his neck! After leaving nasty scratches down Daddy's one arm and across his chest, he flew through the air and took off running once hitting the ground, as if he was being chased by the biggest dog imaginable.
Watching us both try to round him up was quite comical at best.........picture two adults basically bumping into each other like something out of the three stooges, and this little cat evading all capture - and you pretty much have the next 10 minutes of this scene. We finally did manage to administer that little capsule, but not without some huffing, puffing, tripping and a few choice words muttered under our breath - I can't even begin to describe how much we're looking forward to the next time.

Rascal? Well he spent the remainder of the evening hiding under the coffee table, giving us the "you two are evil" looks and refusing all efforts of apology. He didn't even sleep with us last night, and this morning was still somewhat aloof, there was no "Monkey Man" (his nickname) loving going on that's for sure.

The moral of this story?............when it's flea treatment time - have a serious reconaissance plan in place because furry kids will take whatever means necessary to escape and remain at large to avoid at all costs! *LOL*

Monday, September 13, 2010


When I'm home on weekends, I love my cheerios. I don't eat them during the week, but come Saturday morning I actually find myself, as I make my way down to the kitchen, really looking forward to finding the box and silently praying that we (A: have milk and B: that it isn't expired).

The boys also love weekend mornings because as soon as they see my bowl and hear the clatter of the spoon, they know it's "milk" time. Although I'm well aware of the unhealthy aspects of milk and cats, it's become abit of a tradition if you will, that the boys each get afew licks to wet their palette each Saturday and Sunday morning after Mommy's had her share. This past weekend was no different - Silly always gets to go first because he's practically on top of me as I try to eat each spoonful, it's so bad that I have to hold my bowl up practically over my head while he balances his two front paws on my one knee and takes more than the occasional swipe at my bowl! It's so adorable to hear how he purrs as he laps it up - (I always think to myself that he must have been one of the world's cutest kittens). Rascal is a close second, although he doesn't get so aggressive (preferring to wait patiently right beside Silly for his turn), he's learning quickly from his housemates, and is now letting out those meows that would make you want to give him anything he wants (their such con artists!!!). Rocky, well Rocky being his typical finicky self, sits back with the saddest look on his face, always last to join in because of his jealousy, he prefers to pout for abit first, ensuring that you really go the distance to coax him over for some.

Normally, no one boy gets too much - I'm careful to monitor and take it back up and to the sink before it's completely finished by anybody; well, usually. This past Sunday morning, we had had our little routine, but truth be told, Rascal had had a little more than "the usual" due to the fact that I got distracted by something and left him alone with the bowl a wee bit too long.

Next thing I know I hear the worst sounds and it's our Rascal - being sick, and you guessed it, it was all milk. Unfortunately it wasn't just once episode, but about five, all strewn throughout the downstairs of the house. As I dashed back and forth between the kitchen and the livngroom/diningroom for more paper towel, all the while trying to ensure I kept him in my line of sight so there weren't accidents in places I didn't know about, I began to see visions of my husband (who was out of the house early that morning and wouldn't be back until later that night). "Daddy" is an amazing Father to the boys and loves them so much, sometimes it brings tears to my eyes to watch him interact with them, but the one thing that he is a total weak knee'd pansy about is cat vomit. I always thought it was an act (you know how men love to get out of things), until one evening Rocky presented us with a very large hairball that was tossed up right after dinner (are you getting the visual here?) - well I was in the middle of multi tasking and asked hubby to take care of it.
I come back into the room to find Daddy practically green, sweating profusely holding out the paper towel with the kitty sickness in it, pushing it toward me, like I'm supposed to rescue him from a fate worse than death! It was after that that he explains he'll do anything, but (and I'm quoting), "Please don't make me clean up cat vomit"

So as I followed along behind Rascal the other morning as he tossed his cookies, I could't help but begin to snicker as I thought about moi husband, and what his reaction would be to this latest Kitty Parent episode..............I think the picture below is a more than adequate depiction!!

PS: And no I'm not married to Popeye the Sailorman :)

Saturday, September 11, 2010


A Testimony..........declaration or statement of fact (as per the Oxford Dictionary)

These three boys (Rocky, Silly & Rascal respectively), have all known first hand the shelter experience. They each know what it feels like to face death square in the eye because of someone else's actions, and each of them knows only too well what it feels like to be frightened.

For anyone who is of the mindset that cats and/or kittens who end up in the shelter system are "damaged goods", "irrevocably lost" or "without hope", may the the following pictures bear witness to you that nothing could be farther from the truth.

May God bless the rescue workers the world over........

Wednesday, September 8, 2010


I was reading the paper this past weekend, thoroughly enjoying some quiet, "me" time. I love to read and it seems that squeezing the paper in between books, my National Geographic and all the other stuff, is getting harder and harder. So, when I found myself with a half hour to spare, it presented itself as a nice opportunity to relax.

There I was reading away, catching up on the news of the day, when I suddenly felt two little front paws reaching up and pressing against my knee. I move the paper out of the way and what do I find?.........but little Rascal stretching up for love! (Why is it they love to be loved when your in the full throes of something else??). I loved him a little and resumed reading, only to have him reach up and continue to stay like that - so now I'm juggling that particular section of the paper with one hand, and petting his velvety soft little head with the other. Next thing I know, he jumps up on my lap!!!!

Okay, this is interesting (I say to myself), let's see how this unfolds. He circles my lap afew times, all the while rubbing his head on my arm and the purr motor is in overdrive - don't you just love that sound! Me, I'm sitting as still as a statue, pretending to be fully engrossed in reading so as not to alert him to the fact that he's now actually on my lap - and what happens next? HE CURLS UP ON MY LAP!!!!!!!

He didn't stay more than a minute or two but it was absolutely wonderful and I am so thrilled. We may make a lap kitty out of him yet and my next mission is to actually snap a picture so that I can prove to everyone else (and myself), that it actually did happen!!

Just had to share since it's the littlest things that bring the most joy. :)

Wednesday, September 1, 2010


After 4 months of being with us, the proof is in the pudding (or so they say). It's pretty clear at this point that our Rascal is not a lap cat. I thought we were making real progress when in the past 4 weeks or so, he actually jumped up on my lap when I had been loving him on the floor, and got up to sit in a chair because my creaky old bones were screaming help from that position! *L* - but infact I think it was just him having forgotten himself for a moment and once he realized where he was and what he had done, he was down just as quickly as he'd gotten up.

It's also pretty clear that he hates to be picked up. It's not the actual act of picking him up that our little licorice coloured boy seems to detest, but the actual snuggle part when he realizes that you want to cuddle him up there. He begins to squirm almost instantly and within a minute he's letting out these painful little meows, that would have anyone listening thinking I was doing some type of bodily harm to him.

But in spite of his aversions to these two things, he absolutely loves to snuggle up and cuddle. Usually at night and usually after we've gone to bed. For whatever reason, his favourite spot is smack dab in the middle of my husband's legs, and without either of us hearing him, he strolls in, hops up, and before we know it - voila!, he's curled up like a little ball of dough. There's only one problem with this whole scenario - whilst Rascal may be having the nightime naps of his life, he is slowly crippling hubby with his demands for snoozing space between the legs. No matter how many times in the night hubby might awaken and move Rascal out of that space, by morning, he's right back there and slips away just as the alarm goes off.

Every morning for the past 4-6 weeks now "Daddy" has been bitterly complaining of how much his back is hurting and it's all thanks to our little houseguest who, despite there being a zillion places to snooze throughout the house, including two pillows above our heads, NONE it would seem, are more comfortable, more alluring or more tantalizing than right between Daddy's legs!

Initially I was abit worried about my husband's back but that has now gone all the way from concern to humorous, to cringing when I hear him moaning and starting to complain about that "little black bugger" (his words not mine), back to trying to contain my snickers of amusement. It's made all the more difficult when I find Rascal smiling up at me from the floor in the morning's, and I could swear I see a glint in his eye and the infamous yawn of contentment almost as if he's saying.......... "Oh Mommy, how I love it here!"

Let's hope "the back" holds out until his forever home shows up or we could all be looking for new accomodations! *L*