Hopkinses determined unsuitable to adopt cats from animal shelter
Dear Don and I have been looking for a cat or kitten to adopt for several months. We are having a very hard time trying to accomplish this seemingly simple task.
We have asked all around to no avail. We have checked the classifieds in several papers for weeks no cats.
So we decided one weekend a couple of months ago to go the official route and visit an animal shelter. There are no limits to the number of cats and kittens at these places.
We strolled through the feline area and finally settled on a momma cat and her last kitten. She had had five, but four had been taken. We felt guilty taking either one from the other so decided to do the right thing and get both. The lady helping us told us we could get both for the price of one. The price would be around $80and included shots, the momma cat having been spayed and neutering for the kitten at the appropriate age. The deal seemed to be getting better by the moment.
We were pleased with our choice. I was already picking out names, Cleopatra for Momma and Delilah for bitty kitty.
Next we filled out an application and got interviewed. Then the Board would have to vote on us, they said, as potential adoptive parents. The whole process, while time consuming with at least two more trips to the shelter, seemed relatively painless. Depending of course on just how badly you wanted to "parent" two new cats.
A few days after the application process I called to see how far along they had gotten on our application. The polite young woman on the other end told me to hold on. I held on for a long while.
Finally the young woman came back with the news. WE WERE TURNED DOWN AS ADOPTIVE PARENTS TO TWO CATS!!!!
I paused for a moment, indignant at the news she had just delivered to me while trying to remember the old adage: "Don’t shoot the messenger."
I managed to ask why. Why would we be turned down to adopt cats that may well spend their life in a small cage? Why would we be turned down to adopt two cats that could have the run of Moseley Drive? I didn’t understand. Our character had just been assaulted. The poor young woman explained that the board had decided since we had had two pets die while in our care and the vet we put down as ours claimed to know no one by our name, they didn’t feel comfortable turning over their precious animals to two evildoers like ourselves.
Okay, so we won’t get cats from there obviously. I can live with that. I might not be able to live with someone thinking I’m not even good enough to adopt a cat!!
On to plan "B".
While out antiquing last Saturday we wound up next to a pet shop in the town where we were shopping. We stopped in to see if they had cats. No they said but they had a number to someone who rescued cats and placed them in homes.
I called the number. The nice lady said sure, she had lots of cats. In fact she had two (and she preferred to place them in pairs) that were at a location not far from Plum Point. She would contact the third party and get back with me later.
She called back just as she said and told us the cats were ready to be placed. Just a little caveat she then said about the cats and their placement. Uh oh!
"I’ll bring the cats over," she said, "I’ll provide a big wire cage and they will need to stay in it for at least two weeks until they become acclimated to you and their surroundings."
They have been spayed and are up to date on their shots," she continued. "These are feral cats and you will have to clean up after them while in that cage. It’s a pretty nasty job," she warned.
"Well," I answered with much trepidation, " Won’t they try and get out of the cage when we open it to feed them or clean up?"
"Oh no," she countered, "they will be very afraid of you and will cower in the back of the cage."
This doesn’t seem to be adding up to the exact kinda’ situation I was a hopin’ for.
I told the feral lady, I mean feral cat lady, that I would have to talk it over with Dear Don and get back to her. I will save you the grief of hearing exactly what Dear Don said when I got to the clean-up-the-poop-for-two-weeks part.
Maybe we aren’t cat people, I pondered to Don after all was said and done and we had graciously declined the feral cat offer. Maybe we shouldn’t have cats. Maybe those uptight people at the shelter know us better than we know ourselves.
I guess we will leave it alone for now, but if you know anyone that has a black and white female cat that’s spayed, up-to-date on shots, doesn’t require a pooper scooper and would like to be named Cleopatra or Delilah, give us a yell. We are always subject to change.
You get the picture.