Weekend with Paris

You may wonder how volunteering at the local pound can be any fun. Let’s be honest, while the vast majority of dogs will be adopted, the vast majority of cats won’t be – and I’m a crazy cat lady. So how does one cope with this? By focusing on the success stories, of course. Here are four.

This week was a funny week in terms of pound cat “acquisition” and adoption. First of all, Mugsy got adopted. Mugsy is the cat who has been in “the system” the second longest.

When I brought her home from the Rainbow District Animal Shelter, this seven-year-old tortoiseshell cat let me know, in no uncertain terms, that she hated other cats.

I tried to keep her in my “cat” room – she hated that. I let her have free run of our house, along with the “X” number of other cats – she hated that. I tried her out at the store – she hated that. I brought her home again – she tolerated that. Don’t get me wrong. Mugsy loves people – she just hates her own kind.

Thankfully a friend of mine, Bea, had a friend whose mother was looking for a cat. I put Mugsy in a room by herself so she could show how truly charming she is. Mugsy proceeded to hiss, spit, and act like a snake with an attitude problem. Much to my surprise, the lady says, “I like her. I’ll try her out.” Perhaps she has a rottweiler that needs disciplining.

That same evening another woman – I’ll call her Sonya – came with her little ones to pick out a cat. Every cat in the household took to this family like lions to goats – but in a friendly way.

Sonya was interested in one cat in particular – Tyler. And Tyler – a not terribly striking white cat with black spots – was not interested in them.

But she felt sorry for him because he seemed very traumatized, so picked him. Note to Jan: Scare the cats before a potential adopter comes over. (Kidding.)

The week before I had begged another friend, Jeanette (as always, not her real name), to adopt what I call an “invisible cat.” These are cats who you never see – they are super-skittish, but won’t hurt anyone or anything. She has already adopted one invisible cat – Sam – from me, and her other cat had passed away. “Sure,” she said, she’d give Peanut a try.

I went for a quick visit after church today to see how Peanut was doing. Peanut was lounging around like spoiled house cat – which is what he now is. Jeanette and her daughter are massage therapists. They say his name and he immediately flops over on his back and puts his belly in the air. And Sam? She now sleeps on their computer keyboard, waiting for her next rubdown.

These ladies laugh at me, “Next time you tell us you have a scaredy cat, we aren’t going to believe you!”

And then there is Paris – named so because he was found on Paris Street. Whereas many cats cower when they are placed cages in the shelter, he skipped that part completely.

He was staring at me from his pen, quizzically, as if to say, “I’m a housecat – this isn’t a house.” A shelter worker and I brought him into the office to be vaccinated and dewormed and while he was easy going, there was still an odd look on his face, “I’m a housecat – this isn’t a house.”

The ride home along with three other cats was uneventful for him – he slept while the others yelled.

At the house, I “unloaded” Paris into my cat room – the room where cats stay initially at my house so I can be sure they are eating and drinking and using the litter box, and where they can de-stress a little. Even his tail had a big question mark in it.

He escaped while I was bringing them their canned food. Later on in the evening, I watched Paris find the living room, curl up and the couch and pronounce – just with his look – “I’m a housecat and the THIS is a house.”

Ah, Paris’s Hilton...

Jan Carrie Steven is a volunteer with Cat Adoption Trust Sudbury (CATS) and the co-ordinator of Small Things: Kitty Boutique and Cat Adoptions. For more information, go to www.smallthings.ca.