When we were driving home from downtown this past Friday, the better half whispered under his breath, “Wanna stop at the animal shelter?” Eh sure, why not, should help me focus on something else for a while.
We walked in through the cloudy double doors into the entrance and then through to the main lobby. There’s a fishtank, a large screen TV, colored paw prints with children’s names attached to them and approximately six double cages with cats, all awaiting their new homes. H. headed over to the cage housing four three month old kittens in the top cage and one four month old kitten in the bottom cage. She kept saying, “they’re licking me” and she was mesmerized. I don’t think she moved away from the cage but once to see the others and then she headed back to the kittens. We petted every one of them and in the back of my head I selected the ones that, if had the chance, I’d put in the car and rescue this very second.
While we were there a young girl came in looking for her dog. She gave a description and they took her to the back where the dogs are kenneled. She came out crying and nodding, yes, they had her dog. She was so relieved. It’s wonderful that places like this exist, but it’s a shame they aren’t a higher priority on the government’s must fund list. They simply don’t understand the hope and goodness these places provide to animals, animal owners and animal advocates.
I spoke to the lady behind the counter about fostering. I told her about our Queen Bee resident cat and our issues in adopting another until we “try” him or her out. She told us we had 30 days and that they don’t encourage the adoption as a trial period.
The girls oohed and ahhed over the cats and after twenty minutes or so, the better half pointed to the two cages and said, “let’s get Mister and Gracie”. I laughed and said, “no”. Then for some reason, I said “one”. The next thing I know I was filling out paperwork and someone was handing us a cardboard carrier!
We adopted Mister and changed his name to Frank or Frankie or Franklin or Frankie Doodle or Franklin Fish or just Fish as the youngest calls him. He’s just now getting his pilot’s wings dealing with the noises of the house and all the chaos and love it offers. He’s blending right in and although he and The Queen haven’t exactly bonded, they’re doing ok. I’m hoping and praying that within the next week or two they’ll tolerate one another. Baby steps after all.