My 3 Boys
Back in 2002/03 I worked at an animal rescue. My job was to care for (feed, water, clean, medicate) the 200 or so cats at this shelter.
I had at least one volunteer to help me each day, but for the most part, I was on my own for this job. I did not mind it at all.
The majority of the cats were usually caged, but there were also the ones who were allowed to roam free for some exercise because they would return to their cages at feeding time, and they did not fight with the other "tenants".
One of these was "Dottie", a black chubby boy who seemed a little depressed in his cage. I would let him out as I cleaned his litter box and often he was back before I was finished, waiting to be put back in.
He loved to be pet, but didn't seem to want to play with the others. He had been brought in by one of the volunteers as a stray from her cottage.
I lived in a trailer on site, and decided that "Dottie" needed to be out of his depressing cage.
I told the owner that I would take him to the trailer, so that he could be socialized by myself and my friends who would visit.
I eventually decided that this job was not the right one for me (not the job itself, but a personality clash with the owner), so I gave my 2 weeks notice, and told her that I would be taking "Dottie" and that I changed his name to BUDDY... a more masculine name, that he responded well to.
In 2004, Buddy and I were pleased to invite HISS into our family. Hiss was a skinny, orange tabby who was about 6 months old. His grew into a solid boy who's goal in life seems to be to drive me insane.
He is a wonderful cat, filled with such character, that I could not imagine him being quiet. He is a brat, but that is part of his charm and he is constantly getting into things he knows he's not supposed to touch.
Even if I do not see him get into something, I know he has, because when he sees me, he will duck, turn and run. My usual response is to laugh, because he reminds me of a child hiding when mom sees the broken cookie jar.
Most recently, in 2009, we were asked to be the foster home for another chubby boy, Stubby, a white & tabby. He was about 3 or 4 years old when he joined us. We were asked to foster him, because he was terribly shy. The cat rescue people, knowing my two crazy boys, thought that they would be the perfect boys to help Stubby come out of his shell.
For the first 3 weeks, he hid behind the furnace and only came out at night to eat & use the litter box. He eventually worked his way to the hallway, where he could quickly retreat to the furnace room, if the need arose. Now, over a year later, he is completely one of the family... and as much a pain in the butt as the other two boys!
No one can go to the bathroom without having at least one cat join them. It is rare that I can go without all three laying at my feet. They all wait outside the door if it is closed, and if they decide it has been closed too long, they will bang on the door to let you know...
They wake me every morning by knocking on my bedroom door -- they are not allowed in my bedroom, as I am allergic to cats, and I certainly would not be able to breath with my 3 chubby boys sleeping around my head.
They are my babies, and I dread the day one of them is too old to stay with us any longer (I do not know how old Buddy is).
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