Today's post is going to be a bit different than the usual fitness and nutrition posts. Today I want to talk about another important part of my life--being a pet foster parent.
I've been fostering cats for about a year and a half now. It all started when I noticed a lot of feral cats were hanging out in the woods behind our house. I decided to trap them, and put them through our county's TNR (trap, neuter, release) program. It's really the most humane thing you can do for feral cats. If they've been feral their whole life, they will most likely never warm-up to and trust humans. But, at least if they are neutered they will not reproduce. I also set up a little heated shelter and feeder for them outside.
I noticed that one of the cats who frequented the feeder, didn't really seem feral. While she wouldn't let me touch her, she would stick around when I went outside. I had already trapped and released two males, but once I noticed her I saw that she was already very round. She'd toss me a meow now and then. So I decided to gain her trust so I could bring her inside to have her babies. Soon she learned to trust me, and I was able to put her in a carrier and bring her inside. About three weeks later, she had a litter of five kittens (and a few weeks after that, we took in another kitten whose mother had abandoned him, so that our Mama kitty could nurse him).
I loved this new little family of mine with all my heart. I watched them grow, and develop little personalities. But with three household cats of our own, I knew I needed to find them all homes. And through networking (Facebook, people I know from work, etc.), I did. And at eight weeks old, they all went to live with their furever families. And it broke my heart. Every time one left, I'd sit in our kitten foster room and cry.
But after a week or so of going into that empty kitten room, it got better. It hurt less.
Soon, a friend called about a community of cats that needed help. A lady had been taking care of them, but she passed away. Now they were outside, roaming the neighborhood. She asked if there was a chance I could foster some of them, and try to find them homes.
I went over with my cat carrier. I was only able to trap one adult male named Shyly. His ear was notched, so I knew he had been neutered. I figured a somewhat wild, adult male would be a challenge, but I would try. I didn't even know if he was litter box trained.
Now the kitten room wasn't empty anymore. Mr. Shyly had taken up residence.
It took Shyly awhile to adjust, but he did. After a week or so I was able to get him to the vet for screening (all fosters must be screened for diseases so they don't make our resident cats sick).
While Shyly was still in residence, the same friend called with another cat in need--a young Calico named Poppy. (Since Shyly was neutered, I didn't have to worry ending up with another litter).
Poppy and Shyly actually got along really well, and made great companions.
Poppy was a great kitten ( ~ 6 months old). I loved having her here; however, neither cat had any prospects for an adoptive home. I was afraid I had bitten off more than I could chew, and would have two cats living in our spare room forever.
But I kept networking/sharing their pictures, and sure enough, a friend (a friend I consider as much a crazy cat lady as myself) wanted Shyly! Hurray! Shyly (now Cinna) so deserved to live as a spoiled indoor cat.
Meanwhile I was becoming very attached to Poppy. I was starting to convince myself I could slowly integrate her into our household. When one of the adopters from that first litter expressed interest in adding Poppy to their household, I almost told them she wasn't available. But I realized that the best thing for Poppy was to let her be adopted. We already have three demanding kitties (and two ferrets).
Again, sending her off broke my heart. It made me really sad for awhile. But the pain lessened, and I knew I had found another cat a new forever home that would be a really good fit for her.
So, why am I writing this other than to show off pictures of my beautiful foster children? Well, because I'm in that sad place right now. I have a litter of four kittens and a mama who are leaving today and tomorrow. Over the last eight weeks several people have told me they could just never do this. "How can you give those kittens away? Aren't you keeping any of them?" "I would just keep them all!"
Believe me, there have been many times during the last few weeks--as I thought about these kittens (and mama) leaving that I thought, "No way! I'm keeping them all!!! I can't do it!" But two left this morning. One is leaving this evening, and Mama Callie and the final one leave tomorrow.
It's hard. It's heartbreaking. I cry when they leave. And when I go into that empty kitten room tomorrow, I will feel empty. But next week, it won't hurt quite so much. I might even appreciate not having to get up even earlier on my early mornings to scoop litter boxes and take care of five other cats. And in a few weeks, I'll probably see another opportunity to help a cat live a better life. And I'll start the whole process again.
So if you are one of the people who say, "I could never do that! I would just keep them all." Maybe think about it some more. Callie was found on a busy street, playing in traffic. Tomorrow she's going (with one of her kittens) to live with a big family--to have a great life.
Sometimes you have to go through the hurt to do something you're passionate about.
I've been fostering cats for about a year and a half now. It all started when I noticed a lot of feral cats were hanging out in the woods behind our house. I decided to trap them, and put them through our county's TNR (trap, neuter, release) program. It's really the most humane thing you can do for feral cats. If they've been feral their whole life, they will most likely never warm-up to and trust humans. But, at least if they are neutered they will not reproduce. I also set up a little heated shelter and feeder for them outside.
I noticed that one of the cats who frequented the feeder, didn't really seem feral. While she wouldn't let me touch her, she would stick around when I went outside. I had already trapped and released two males, but once I noticed her I saw that she was already very round. She'd toss me a meow now and then. So I decided to gain her trust so I could bring her inside to have her babies. Soon she learned to trust me, and I was able to put her in a carrier and bring her inside. About three weeks later, she had a litter of five kittens (and a few weeks after that, we took in another kitten whose mother had abandoned him, so that our Mama kitty could nurse him).
I loved this new little family of mine with all my heart. I watched them grow, and develop little personalities. But with three household cats of our own, I knew I needed to find them all homes. And through networking (Facebook, people I know from work, etc.), I did. And at eight weeks old, they all went to live with their furever families. And it broke my heart. Every time one left, I'd sit in our kitten foster room and cry.
But after a week or so of going into that empty kitten room, it got better. It hurt less.
Soon, a friend called about a community of cats that needed help. A lady had been taking care of them, but she passed away. Now they were outside, roaming the neighborhood. She asked if there was a chance I could foster some of them, and try to find them homes.
I went over with my cat carrier. I was only able to trap one adult male named Shyly. His ear was notched, so I knew he had been neutered. I figured a somewhat wild, adult male would be a challenge, but I would try. I didn't even know if he was litter box trained.
Now the kitten room wasn't empty anymore. Mr. Shyly had taken up residence.
It took Shyly awhile to adjust, but he did. After a week or so I was able to get him to the vet for screening (all fosters must be screened for diseases so they don't make our resident cats sick).
While Shyly was still in residence, the same friend called with another cat in need--a young Calico named Poppy. (Since Shyly was neutered, I didn't have to worry ending up with another litter).
Poppy and Shyly actually got along really well, and made great companions.
Poppy was a great kitten ( ~ 6 months old). I loved having her here; however, neither cat had any prospects for an adoptive home. I was afraid I had bitten off more than I could chew, and would have two cats living in our spare room forever.
But I kept networking/sharing their pictures, and sure enough, a friend (a friend I consider as much a crazy cat lady as myself) wanted Shyly! Hurray! Shyly (now Cinna) so deserved to live as a spoiled indoor cat.
Meanwhile I was becoming very attached to Poppy. I was starting to convince myself I could slowly integrate her into our household. When one of the adopters from that first litter expressed interest in adding Poppy to their household, I almost told them she wasn't available. But I realized that the best thing for Poppy was to let her be adopted. We already have three demanding kitties (and two ferrets).Again, sending her off broke my heart. It made me really sad for awhile. But the pain lessened, and I knew I had found another cat a new forever home that would be a really good fit for her.
So, why am I writing this other than to show off pictures of my beautiful foster children? Well, because I'm in that sad place right now. I have a litter of four kittens and a mama who are leaving today and tomorrow. Over the last eight weeks several people have told me they could just never do this. "How can you give those kittens away? Aren't you keeping any of them?" "I would just keep them all!"
Believe me, there have been many times during the last few weeks--as I thought about these kittens (and mama) leaving that I thought, "No way! I'm keeping them all!!! I can't do it!" But two left this morning. One is leaving this evening, and Mama Callie and the final one leave tomorrow.
It's hard. It's heartbreaking. I cry when they leave. And when I go into that empty kitten room tomorrow, I will feel empty. But next week, it won't hurt quite so much. I might even appreciate not having to get up even earlier on my early mornings to scoop litter boxes and take care of five other cats. And in a few weeks, I'll probably see another opportunity to help a cat live a better life. And I'll start the whole process again.
So if you are one of the people who say, "I could never do that! I would just keep them all." Maybe think about it some more. Callie was found on a busy street, playing in traffic. Tomorrow she's going (with one of her kittens) to live with a big family--to have a great life.
Sometimes you have to go through the hurt to do something you're passionate about.
