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Best Friends' Kitties (LONG)
I got carried away and wrote up reams of pages on our trip to Best
Friends. I have to pare it down to be of interest to you - about the cats, of course! I'm a little hesitant to "tell all" since it may start out as a bit of a downer but, in truth, it's quite heartwarming. Chris and I had signed up as "socializers" petting, cuddling, playing with kitties to ready them for future adoption. There are nine buildings housing 756 (at last count) cats. Since volunteers were in short supply at the time, we could choose which group. The name Kitty Motel sounded like fun. But we learned the vast majority of cats are handicapped in some way. The buildings are octagons with a different set of kitties in each pod. We were assigned to the Geriatrics room. Mornings are spent cleaning the rooms - an indoor room and a large porch extending from it. A daily routine which took us over three hours the first day but we finally got it down to about an hour and a half. Yes, we could choose a different building each day but we had fallen madly in love with "our" oldsters and gravitated back, ending up spending the entire tour with them. There were 21 cats in Geriatrics. In the end, it was hard to say goodbye to KoKo and JoJo, George and Sam, Audrey and Callie. Especially Peanut Butter, a saucy, sassy little old lady who stole my heart; she thrived on mischief and loved to play tricks on the unwary. She liked to grab your hand and give it a love-bite, then lick away the "hurt." Didn't matter to her that there were no teeth to bite with!! I'd pretend she'd inflicted an ouchie and she'd look so pleased with herself. Cedric is a lovely old cat, blind in one eye, and a first-class lovebug. Finnegan is even more aggressive in looking for loving and he and Cedric would vie with each other for the attention, seeing who could squeeze in to push the other away. Lucy is aloof and it was only on the last day that she condescended to put both feet up on my face. Grayla, Curry, Kimmie, and Morgan (who was new to the Sanctuary and still frightened) didn't like human contact at all but were adorable as is. The other separated pods contained the FeLeuk, FIV, the Incontinental Suite, the quarantined, and the Lobby Cats. I spent a *lot* of time with the Lobbies who had neurological problems. There were eight of them; Valentino, blind in one eye, had to drag his back legs to the side behind him. Thumper had been attacked by dogs hurting her spine and also had to slither around. She got to know us and would rush up to the door when she saw us coming, loved attention, would grab any leg going by to get some petting. Got a lot of acupuncture from Thumper. Pokey had difficulty with all four legs; Little Bit was too, too thin, unable to assimilate nourishment. Scooter, an absolute delight, was born without a tail and back legs which didn't stop her from scooting here, there, and yon and back again! Weeble, a *beautiful* cat, walked with a sort of goose-step stride, falling over several times before she got where she was going, but she'd get there! She had to be fed with the food dish held up to her face where her head bobbed up and down uncontrollably like a duck bobbing for corn. She would brace herself against a wall; at first I thought she was "stuck" and tried to free her but was told that she'd learned on her own to find a good spot and steady herself. Smart kitty!!! Last but not least was Bobby. All of these cats got a raw deal but I thought Bobby was dealt the harshest hand. He's a cat with an *attitude*. He's entitled. He's bedridden. Born with his short back legs facing upward, one front leg only about 2-3 inches long. He's a most lovable kitty - - on *his* terms! He has his own wooden bed with "Bobby" painted on the headboard - and wants no other cat within three feet of it. The staff calls him "Sir Robert". Once I found he'd pooped and got him out to replace with fresh bedding. Back in his clean quarters, he promptly peed on it. Same routine - Bobby was *furious*. To be disturbed twice within a few minutes! He threw one big temper tantrum, useless little feet and one good leg flailing as fast as they could go, yowling, teeth bared. One very angry cat!! He got mad pretty often. He liked to be petted and tummy-rubbed but only when *he* wanted it for as long as *he* liked. He's my favorite. When we started working there, I felt deep pity and sorrow for these poor creatures. The staffer told me not to feel sorry for them, they didn't know they were handicapped, and were happy. Hard to believe but by the time we left, I knew it was true. Absolutely!! There is no self-pity - - they embraced life the way it is. Jeanne |
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