That Time of Year

Every year around this time, I would begin preparations for a huge themed party for Indiana's birthday, something I have done every year since she was diagnosed with cancer back in 2006.  These parties were big affairs, with lots of her friends (and ours), lots of food, games, and prizes, and lots and lots of theme.  I typically started planning months in advance, picking a theme and then designing invitations, ordering decorations, planning a menu, choosing and designing games, buying prizes and party favors, and spending days getting the house and all of the food ready. In the early weeks of planning, I would become consumed (we might even call it obsessed) with planning.  Everything had to be perfect.  Every detail.  Every plan.

I loved planning those parties.  It gave me joy to create something for her, even though she didn't care about all of the details.  She loved her friends though--her eyes would light up with each one who walked through the door.

I remember last year's party--a fitting princess theme for The Princess.  Indiana's health was declining, and we knew it was most likely her last birthday party.  So bittersweet, but we threw ourselves and our love into every bit of it.

I will carry with me forever the memory of my beautiful old dog, laying on her favorite bed, like The Princess she always was, surrounded by dozens of friends and family, all people so dear to us, and to her.  Everyone was singing "Happy Birthday" to her, and the joy on her face, the truly palpable feeling of love flowing through the room--I will love every single person at that party forever for giving me that memory.

And now, nearly a year later, I feel lost.  I don't have a party to plan.  I don't want to plan a party.

Her birthday has been on my mind lately.  After 6 birthday parties, this year there will be none.  How will I spend that day? Do I celebrate her life? Do I keep busy with other things? Everything will hurt.  What will hurt the least?

As I navigate this spring, trying to keep my mind off of something that has become such a habit, such a joy, I know there will be pain.  I know I will miss her.  I know I will miss giving the gift of a party to her.  But I will think about parties past, about her beautiful smile, and room full of people who gave me a gift I cannot even express--the gift of pure, kind love.

Albert

Albert, photo courtesy of Two Birds Photography

Yesterday I shared the story of how Alfred temporarily joined our family as a foster.  A few days later, I felt the urge to foster another cat.  Alfred needed a buddy, didn't he? Jim didn't have any big objections, but instead asked that we wait a bit to see how fostering worked out for us.  That seemed like a reasonable request.  

Friends and family know by now that I am not reasonable.  

Less than a week after we took in Alfred, I went on a "shopping trip" of sorts to a local animal control to pick up a cat that St. Sophia's had committed to.  While there, we shopped around for other cats, not really having a place for one, but needing one for an upcoming cat show into which we had already entered two cats.  One had come down with a minor illness, which meant a spot was open.  It seemed a shame to let that spot go to waste.  As we looked through the isolation room--the place where cats are held until their stray holds are up or until they are healthy enough to be adopted out--I noticed a black cat in the corner of the room, and by the smell of him, we was an unaltered male with some digestive issues.  

Upon approaching this little guy, I was taken by how friendly he was.  He came to the door of the cage immediately and turned on the charm.  I'm a sucker for charm.  So I opened his door, and this large, smelly cat was a puddle in my arms.  The animal control workers came over, all of whom were very fond of this stray tom cat.  He had chronic diarrhea that they were working hard to prevent--even going so far as to feed him expensive limited ingredient canned food and probiotics.  I summoned my friend over, who was skeptical that this smelly, big-headed tom cat was the one for us.  "But he's so sweet!" I cried.  So we waited to hear back from the director of St. Sophia's--what did she think about taking this cat?

Another issue was a foster home for him.  We really didn't have an open spot.  Who would take him? I felt responsible, as I had all but begged my friend to rescue him.  Jim and I had just discussed waiting to take in another foster, but this guy was so sweet, and surely he wouldn't be that much work. Still, I wondered what Jim would say.  On a whim, I emailed him at work.  Minutes later, this kind man that I married instantly agreed to take in another cat.  Just when I thought I couldn't love him any more than I already did...

Soon after came a text from the director--we could take him, and we would place him in the cat show.  My friend thought she was nuts, and both of us got a huge laugh out of a smelly, pooey tom cat off the streets being entered into a cat show.  But he had the personality for it.  And he was safe! 

Albert was committed to on Tuesday, neutered and brought to rescue on Wednesday, groomed on Friday, and spent all weekend at the cat show, placing as high as second place out of ten cats! Everyone fell in love with this calm, cool cat.  

Since that weekend, Albert has lived with us, and more specifically, with Alfred.  He never ceases to amaze us with his calm demeanor.  (Can cats be narcoleptic? Because sometimes I wonder.)  He loves to snuggle.  He loves to rub his face against yours.  He will sleep next to you in bed. His greatest joy is being near people.  But he isn't clingy or needy--quite simply, he is the best friend a person could ask for.  

Also, he wears bow ties.  

Albert is fully vetted and is ready for his forever home.  You can learn more about him on Petfinder or visit St. Sophia's Forgotten Felines on Facebook.  

Albert's official bio:

Albert is an easy-going, loving adult black shorthair male. Found as a stray, Albert has touched all those who meet him with his calm and affectionate demeanor. He was entered into a cat show in the housecat division for St. Sophia's soon after entering our program, and he amazed everyone with how relaxed he always seemed to be. He even took 2nd place out of 10 cats!

Albert is incredibly loving, happy to snuggle next to his people, or sleep curled up next to them in bed. He loves to rub his head against people and receive kisses. His great joy in life is being loved.

Albert is good with other cats and remains relaxed and calm even around small children! He will make the perfect companion for anyone looking for a devoted, patient best friend.

Alfred

Alfred, photo courtesy of Two Birds Photography

About a month ago, my neighbor contacted me, inquiring about how to catch two cats who were living in her back yard.  They didn't seem feral but weren't coming close either.  It was the dead of winter, and though she was feeding them, she was concerned about their well-being long term and wanted to catch them.  Not long after, I awoke one morning to meowing coming from the kitchen.  It was strange, because the meow wasn't familiar to me, yet I wasn't imagining it.  I got up to explore it further, and saw a streak of black tail run through the kitchen towards the open pet door.  Ramona is our only cat with a black tail, so I wondered where in the world she was headed in such a hurry, yet a glance at her favorite spot revealed she was fast asleep.  I knew instantly we had an intruder! Sure enough, I looked outside on the deck, and saw a wide-eyed black and white cat staring at me.  Having a strange cat in your house in and of itself is weird enough.  But we have a nearly impenetrable cat fence, which we call the Kitty Gulag, which makes any movement, in or out, virtually impossible.  How had this cat gotten in? 

Over the next few days, I didn't see him.  Surely he was there, as it's difficult to get in the cat fence but even harder to get out.  Yet, a day or two later, my neighbor informed me that he was back at her house.  Amazed, I figured he wasn't coming back to our place.  Until a few days later, when he walked in while Jim and I were watching TV on the couch.  

Jim and I agreed to try to catch the little guy and try to find him a home.  Our neighbor had already discovered that he was trap savvy, so trapping him wasn't an option; we were left with feeding him and slowly trying to earn his trust.  I knew this could take a while, as cats are difficult creatures.

So for several days, this cat would show up at my house for dinner and would show up at my neighbor's house (a quarter of a mile away) for breakfast.  We still had no idea how he was getting in and out of our cat fence with such ease.  A walk of the perimeter revealed no holes or obvious points of entry.  It remains a mystery to us to this day!

On the third or fourth night of feeding this cat, he allowed me to pet him, and he even came out from under a bench to see me.  Instinctively, I decided to try picking him up.  He let me.  With a strange, stray cat in my arms, out in the bitter cold, I suddenly wondered what to do.  We had intended to catch him eventually and find him a home--this was just sooner than I expected.  With Jim off at work, I simply made the decision to take him inside, marching him up the stairs into our spare bedroom.  And there he has stayed.

A very kind friend heard his story, and being the intake coordinator for a rescue organization, she arranged for Alfred to be taken into their program.  They had a foster home available; did we want to surrender him to the organization? This didn't sit right with Jim and me.  It felt like we would simply be passing him off, happy that he wasn't our problem any more.  And leaving that foster home open meant another life could be saved from Animal Control.  So in an instant, without much discussion, Jim and I decided to become foster parents for St. Sophia's Forgotten Felines. We also knew with little discussion that Alfred wouldn't be our last foster.  After filling out the paperwork, we were officially a foster family.  And a few days later, along came Albert (but he's a story for tomorrow).  We don't have any more room in our family for pets (6 cats is really at our max), but we certainly have room in our hearts and our home to help cats become united with their forever families.  It's a lot of work, but it's absolutely right for us.

So, we welcome Alfred to our foster family, and we hope he finds his way to his perfect family soon.  He tried so hard to make his way to us--he just wants to be loved.  He will make some family incredibly lucky.

Alfred is fully vetted--neutered, vaccinated, and viral tested.  He is ready for his loving forever home. Alfred is available on Petfinder, but you can also visit St. Sophia's on Facebook to learn more about how to adopt him.