WTF?!

I managed to not drive like a moron, get us lost or scare Jackson with the driving skills I learned when I attended the Skip Barber High Performance Driving School in 2000. Sure, I know threshold breaking and about contact patches, but does Jackson need a demonstration in the middle of the night? Taking a curve on an exit ramp at 80 mph is much more exciting during the day, anyway.

All roads lead to CVS.

We found a CVS, a different location, but part of the same chain I’d been in that morning to buy mascara. We were the only ones in the place other than a lone employee. It was surreal shopping under the painful glare of fluorescent lights with the snack deprived Cat Daddy.

Jackson had the hood up on his jacket to keep his head warm. I looked at him from a distance and tried to imagine how I’d feel if I was shopping and looked up and saw him without knowing who he was. Would I swoon? Be intrigued? I think he would have scared the [censored] out of me. He is so tall and was so bundled up, all I could see was his face, dark beard and sharp-lined glasses, his dark eyes darting back and forth over the choices in the snack food area. But then, Jackson walked over to the aisle where the “As Seen on TV” stuff was located and mischeviously said that “Furniture Fix,” which are interlocked plastic strips you stick under the cushion of a “blown out” sofa or chair, actually work. See? Never judge a book by his cover.

I told him I used plywood and it just made it feel like the sofa was blown out and the cushion was on the floor, but was glad to know that FF actually works (no, that is NOT a JG Productions endorsement—sheesh!).

Then I pointed at the box for Pajama Jeans, which are my new favorite thing to make jokes about now that Snuggies are passé. I wonder what the world is coming to when people are so lazy they can’t be bothered to take off their pajamas and get dressed. Wait! What was I saying! I live in my pj’s half the time. Who sees me? Maybe I should get some Pajama Jeans? At least they were dry!

Every fashionista's worst nightmare, but they come in “skinny” AND “boot cut.” How cool is that?

We walked up and down the aisles and looked at the cavalcade of crap: chips and nuts and candy, oh my. We made jokes, talked about what we liked or hated. We both liked Cap’n Crunch® when we were kids. Jackson chose something salty (pretzels, what I always get, too!) so I told him he had to get something sweet to balance it and he agreed. We both sneered at the Oreo®’s (Sorry, Nabisco®). Then Jackson pointed out that peanut butter stuffed pretzels are ALWAYS sold in tubs, never in a small bag or box. I pretended to cry and said that from now on, every time I saw those stuffed pretzels I’d think of him. Then I realized “there’s many a true word said in jest.”

Jackson gathered a few items and went to the check out. I used my Jewish super powers (my Mother was Jewish so she handed her powers down to me before she died) to guilt him into not buying RedBull® for the next day's recording session out of fear of what that buzz would do to his digestion, let alone blood sugar (he wisely chose water).

As we stood at the checkout, the young man at the register didn’t realize who was right in front of him. I looked at the kid’s nametag. It read; “Jackson, ”so of course I started frantically poking Jackson’s arm to get his attention to look at the name tag and he whispered to me that he already noticed and that I was slow! What a joker. Gotta love that guy.

©2012 Robin A.F. Olson. Jackson with his “mini-me” that a volunteer named Chris Fetcho made for Kitten Associates. It's created out of “furminated” cat hair, wool and a maxi pad. Yes, there's a maxi under his shirt…under the faux-Jackson's shirt! Sheesh.

The short drive back to the hotel went just as smoothly as the drive to CVS. Why I didn’t floor it and kidnap Jackson so I could have him all to myself is beyond me. But no, I had to be a good girl and go back to the hotel when I had the chance of a lifetime. I blew it! I’ve never been in jail before nor had a reason to be. I'm such a twit!

Poor Jackson was half asleep in the car. The jet-lag had kicked in full force and I knew it was time to say goodbye.

I pulled up in front of the hotel, killed the engine and got out. Jackson came over to me and we looked into each other’s eyes. Jackson removed his glasses and blinked slowly, making that soft eyes expression he uses to soothe naughty cats on his show. I responded to his gesture by taking off my glasses and giving him soft eyes in return. I felt a purring sensation begin to rise from the depths of my soul. What in the world was going on? Was this guy some sort of Svengali with women, too?

I lost control of my fingers. My glasses slipped to the ground with a “clink.” We fell into a passionate lip-lock, oblivious to the fact that it was [censored] cold outside. His beard tickled my neck as I got lost in his commanding embrace. My knees turned to jelly, but he held tightly onto me. Our bodies started to turn together, as if on a giant lazy-susan. There was no one else, no TV show or book tour to worry about, just us spinning in circles fading in and out of soft focus perfection…

…Really? Come on.

We gave each other a big hug and that was it. I didn’t even score a peck on the cheek, [censored][censored][censored], but I can dream, can’t I? This is MY story about dinner with Jackson so I can write whatever I want!

I think we were both too tired to say much more. I would have liked to tell him good luck with everything and thank you for dinner (thank you!) and a million more things, but I had an hour and a half drive to get back home, so with great reluctance I got back into my old car, I mean my COOL Black BMW (pwned it!) and pointed it west as Jackson’s figure disappeared, the Lobby doors closing behind him.

At least I’d been able to snag Jackson’s yellow wallet during the hug as a souvenir. His Driver's License is a trip! There's a black wavy mustache drawn over his face in the I.D. photo.

---------TUESDAY 3/28/12-----------

I got home at 12:30 AM. The drive along I-95 was spent following an ambulance running lights and sirens. Though I stayed far back from the vehicle, in a way it felt like I was getting an escort home, so I pretended I was a high ranking Government Official (officially tired).

I’d had a cup of tea while Jackson and I shared dessert earlier that night. (OMG I SHARED dessert with Jackson…swoon!) I’m very sensitive to caffeine and only have it, at most, once a day and well before 5pm, otherwise I can’t sleep. I chose to have tea late, knowing full well I’d have to be awake to drive home.

Then I realized how stupid I was. I should have said I too sleepy to drive home! “Oh Mr. Jackson, please pity me. I am so tired and weary and have nowhere to rest my porn-star-hairdood-head and I cannot afford to stay in this luxurious hotel and I am so far from my home. Oh, Mr. Jackson can you help me? I noticed there is a mighty big bed in your room.” Wink, wink, nudge, nudge. Why aren’t I more conniving, or at least catty? [censored][censored][censored].

So there I lay, in my own bed, with dry (yay!) pajamas on, my porn star hair getting flat, covered in cats. My heart was racing from the adrenaline and the caffeine. I tossed. I turned. I got up to pee and stepped in a puddle of cat urine that was on the floor by the toilet. I saw one of the cats sitting in the doorway. It was Pee-tunia. I know she did it: the little [censored]. I sighed. It was too late at night to yell, plus WWJD? He wouldn't yell at the cat so I cleaned everything up and went back to bed. I tossed some more. I kept reliving the evening. I told myself to cut it out, to focus on the next day. Some folks from the local media were going to be here to document my rescue group, Kitten Associates, receiving it's biggest donation ever-2500 cans of cat food from HALO. I’d have to be fresh and on point for them. See, Jackson, I’m famous, too. Okay, not like you are, obviously, but…but…but…okay, maybe having my photo in The Newtown Bee and The Danbury News-Times does not qualify me for being “famous, ” but it’s something.

The only physical proof, other than a beard hair I found in my car that this night really happened.

I couldn’t sleep a wink. I tried to rest. I knew I was going to pay for it later. I’d told Jackson if he wanted to hang out while he was in town, to let me know. Since there was a slim chance I’d see him again, it was another reason not to want to sleep. I wanted the day to get going so I could find out if I’d see him again; the heck with the Press!

-------------later that morning------------

I did my best to get up and go through my normal routine. I got ready for the Media to arrive, but I was so tired I didn’t do everything I wanted to do before they got to my house. I called Paula at the freight company, expecting her to tell me that the shipment would arrive some time in the afternoon. It was 11am. She said the driver should be there by Noon, the latest. NOON?!! Oh no!

I sent out a few quick emails and made some calls, letting everyone know about the time change. They all made plans to arrive, but would miss the actual delivery. I heard something up on the street. I looked up. The truck was at the end of the driveway, on the street. Oh [censored]! It was 11:15!

I ran to the front door and opened it and almost walked into the driver. He apologized and told me the bad news. He would not drive his truck down the dirt driveway and drop off by the garage, so he’d have to drop the 1100 pound load about 200 yards away, leaving us to have to unpack the palette, load up a car, drive down the driveway, unpack the car, repeat four times, then re-load the palette with 290 CASES of CAT FOOD once it was moved into the garage. UGH!

I’ll cover more of this story and complain about My Backache From Hell later…back to Jackson…

Actually, there really isn’t a lot more to say about Jackson. I was still “high” from meeting him, but the reality that it was over and done and that I probably wouldn’t see him again, either ever or, at best at a Conference some day, left me feeling broken-hearted. I realize it’s stupid to feel like that, but I was greedy. I’ve been yearning to have fun for so long that when I got a taste of it I wanted more.

That the “fun” was with the acme of Cat Behaviorists, as well as a TV star was almost more than I deserved, but my birthday is in a few days, so I gave myself a break from feeling guilty.

It’s not realistic to think that Jackson is available to be my buddy, especially now, with so much on his plate for a very long time to come. If we met under different circumstances maybe we’d be able to hang out and get to know each other, but we live 3000 miles apart. I tried to be happy that anything happened at all, but it just reminded me of how sad I’ve been for so long that I wondered if maybe I should have just stayed home in the first place.

Are you [censored] kidding me? Miss out on meeting Jackson Galaxy? Never.

After the Press left and the palette was moved, I went to bed. It was 4:25 pm. If Jackson was going to contact me about getting together, it would be within the next hour. I set my alarm for 30 minutes, not wanting to miss anything. Of course as soon as I laid down, I got texted by my ex-sister-in-law, who I adore, and who wanted to know if we could get together later in the week. I didn’t want to talk. I had the shakes from being so tired. I wanted to sleep, but I stayed awake and texted her for a while. I kept checking my email, just in case Jackson contacted me, but nothing new appeared in my inbox.

I re-set the alarm for 6pm, knowing in my heart that I wasn’t going to hear from him. I didn't sleep at all so I got back up and moped around the house. At 7:30pm I got a note saying he was hunkering down. There was simply too much going on with the show and the book and the…so he was going to stay in for the night. The Inn sent some chocolate covered strawberries to his room, making him feel like a “rock star.”

I wrote him back and said I understood and wistfully told him to save me a strawberry.

I went downstairs and ate a scoop of ice cream for my dinner. A second day had passed and I’d hardly eaten, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t hungry. I was just sad. I had a good cry, then washed my face and went to bed. I have to face my boring life and go back to worrying about getting my taxes done, how I was going to pay my mortgage, when I was going to get my car fixed. I didn’t want to go back to all that without first promising myself I’d work on figuring out why I was so sad and how I could make changes to enjoy my life more.

I would pick myself back up, gosh darn it, just like in a 1950's musical. I’d focus on my work and focus on my words. I'd rescue more kittens. I'd wash that man right out of my (porn star) hair. I’d had a very nice run of good news after a very long drought. Meeting the Cat Daddy was as wonderful, if not better, than I imagined. He’s probably as good of a people-whisperer as he is with cats.

It’s a delicious feeling to get swept away by the thrill of having a heart’s desire realized, but it’s also bittersweet when it has to come to an end.

At least we’ll always have CVS and peanut butter stuffed pretzels.

©2012 Robin A.F. Olson & Jackson Galaxy. This is how I would have preferred to end this post, but unicorns are tough to come by this time of year. Honestly, are we a cute couple or what?

As fate would have it, I got another email, but this one wasn’t from Jackson and what it said made my Grinch-sized smile grow three times larger. But what could possibly top this? We'll see my friends. We'll see.

------------------------

A serious note: To all of you who one day have the pleasure of meeting Mr. Galaxy, do me a favor won't you? Treat him kindly. Protect him from stress. Don't ask too much of him right now. Give him some breathing room so he can stay clear, keep his Cat Mojo intact, stay sweet. The kitties need him and so do we.

For every copy of CAT DADDY pre-ordered before May 10, Tarcher/Penguin will donate $1.00 to the cause of saving shelter cats. To make your preorder count, simply e-mail your receipt (or a photo/scan of your receipt) to: CatDaddyBook@gmail.com.

Have you ever watched a movie or TV show and asked yourself; “Oh how I wish I could meet that star? I think he’s so amazing! He should marry me, not that toothpick-esque starlet he’s dating.”

But what if that dream came true? What if you were faced with meeting someone you admire but don’t really know? How would the reality match up with the fantasy? Could anything live up to our wildest imagination? What would happen if it exceeded our dreams?

Many of you know I live a very quiet life. I’m home most of the time and often go days without even venturing past my own front door. I have much to do with the cats, with working and writing, but in my heart I yearn for more. I feel restless, perhaps brought on by a cliché mid-life crisis? I want to get OUT of here and go on a vacation, see something new, just put my everyday life behind me for a while or maybe move away. I gotta stop watching House Hunters International, it just makes me feel itchier.

----------FRIDAY 3/23/12-----------

I launched Facebook. Like many of you, I’m on there all the time. I saw that I had a message waiting for me and I tried to guess who it might be from before I looked at it. I wasn’t expecting anything, but just assumed it was from one of my girlfriends.

When I saw the “reply to name,” my heart stopped and my mouth fell open. It was from Jackson Galaxy. Jackson, the sassy-Cat-Daddy from Animal Planet’s “My Cat From Hell.” What in the world would Jackson have to say to little old me? Sure, I interviewed him and we spoke on the phone a time or two after that, but I couldn’t think of any reason why he’d write me.

It was a short note, letting me know that he was going to be in Connecticut to do the voice work for the audio book version of his new book, “Cat Daddy: What the World’s Most Incorrigible Cat Taught Me About Life, Love & Coming Clean”
…did I live nearby the recording studio? Did I want to maybe get lunch?

Who me?? Get lunch? With YOU???!!!!

Are you [censored] kidding me?!! YES!!!! “Of course,” I wrote. “I’d drive 500 miles to meet you for lunch.” I was playing it cool—FAIL!

Then reality sunk in…oh my God he’s going to be here in a few days. I do not have time to:

• Loose 50 pounds
• Get some sort of plastic surgery
• Think about important and/or clever things to say
• Buy a new outfit
• Become a dazzling new person all-together as I’ve seen happen on made-for-TV movies

I basically had time to get my car washed and maybe buy some new mascara since I’d been meaning to do that anyway. But, wait..JACKSON GALAXY wants to meet for lunch! Even if it never came to pass, he asked me! I felt a wave of adrenaline wash through my body. The somber expression I’ve worn these past few years vanished. I was ignited with energy from the sheer idea, alone, that this could come to pass.

Wow. I had to sit down. I WAS sitting down!

I’m glad I’m a Buddhist because I realized very quickly that my mind was spinning out of control and I needed to s-l-o-w down. Take a deep breath. Relax. Think it through. Robin, he’s just a man, just like anyone else. See? Your heart can slow down to a normal rhythm now.

Are you [censored] kidding me??!! JACKSON G-G-GALAXY!!!

Jackson was due to arrive to Connecticut on Monday and was going to leave on Wednesday or thereabouts. Of course, on TUESDAY, when it might be best for lunch, I found out that’s when Kitten Associates was going to get an incredibly huge and generous donation of canned cat food from HALO!

I had arranged for some of the local press to be at my home to interview me about the delivery so there was no way I could skip out and meet Jackson if he chose Tuesday as the day for our meeting.

But why did he ask me to lunch? Well, of course my mind started spinning again. I really had to stop letting my mind take off with various scenarios, I had to focus on getting things off my plate so I COULD go see him should the opportunity present itself.

-------SUNDAY 3/24/12----------

As usual, I over-think everything. I realized I might be too enthusiastic about getting together and, in truth, Jackson IS a real person (right?) and from speaking with him a few times before, I got the sense that he was a very decent person, someone I respected. I didn’t need to feel awestruck.

So, as women tend to do, I decided to write a SHORT note, telling Jackson that I didn’t want him to worry that I was a freaky-fan or that I considered every moment of our time together to be an interview. Yes, I would write about meeting him—how could I not?

I’m all about the journey. Jackson trusted me enough to offer this meeting. I wasn’t going to blow it by trying to dredge up painful facts about a private person just to get hits on my blog. I just won’t do it. So, no interviewing, just hanging out.

Then I started to worry that I said too much and I didn’t look at my email again for the rest of the day. I was afraid of his reaction. Maybe I should have just shut up?

-------MONDAY 3/25/12----------

There was a message for me on Facebook. Low and behold it was from Mr. Galaxy. He changed his mind about us meeting for lunch. He offered to meet for dinner instead! Breathe, Robin, BREATHE! But when? Tonight? Tomorrow? Jackson was in communication lock-down while he was recording his audiobook so I couldn’t reach him to get the details sorted out.

There was a time in my life when if I didn’t know exactly what was going to happen and what time and where I was going I would get really annoyed. I found that the challenge of having to stay on my toes, not knowing if I needed to be ready to drive 50 miles or put my pj’s back on and watch tv that night was exciting. Gee, The Bachelor wasn’t on any more since Ben picked that creepy Courtney, so I had an extra reason not to want to stay home.

©2012 Robin A.F. Olson. Maggie, my super-stylist, getting into the photo, while I grab a shot of my curls. She and I like to call this my “porn star hair”-perfect for meeting celebrities, right?

So I got busy. I got my hair done. I got my car washed. I got my glasses fixed…hey, they were falling off my head. I stopped myself from doing too much. Around 4pm I got home and got ready to go. I had a load of laundry running and my jeans were in the dryer. I put on some makeup and looked at my old face. I thought about all the cool women Jackson must meet who wear heavy eyeliner and lots of eye shadow. They probably have cool tattoos, too, whereas I have only some freckles. I went through that neurotic thing many of us all do, we don’t think we’re good enough just being ourselves. When I realized that, I stopped worrying. I’m fine the way I am. This is me, love it or not. I trusted that Jackson would appreciate me for my heart and my mind, even if everything else was a bit worn down.

At 5pm I got a message from Jackson. Did I want to meet for dinner that very night or Tuesday? I wrote him back, a bit worried he would be jet-lagged and told him I would do whatever was best for him and I was flexible (my mind was screaming to tell him I wanted to go now! not wait! but I didn’t want to be pushy)

He called me a few minutes later and said if I was up for the drive we could meet for dinner or not. He wasn’t ambivalent, but maybe the reality was kicking in for him, too? We spoke for a few minutes and immediately started to have a very energetic conversation. It was very apparent to me that we needed to meet and meet that night.

Once in a blue moon, I meet someone I just click with. I can say whatever I want and they will just fling it right back at me.

We started joking around and I told him I was going to get in the car and be there by 7:30pm. Then Jackson asked me if I was sure, realizing it was going to mean a late dinner (which, by the way, I hadn’t eaten a thing all day I was so nervous). I told him I wouldn’t sleep if we put it off for another day. He innocently asked me why. I just said; “Are you [censored] kidding me? I’ll be there as soon as I can!”

I ran up to the laundry room and my stupid jeans were stupid-wet! Ugh..I finished getting ready, while I tried to get my jeans to dry. Clearly they were going to need at least another 30 minutes so I just put them on. It was a disgusting feeling, but I didn’t care. I didn’t care it was 37° F outside and that it was incredibly windy, either. I’d crank the heat in the car and I’d forget about my jeans. I gotta go! I have a…meeting? What do I have? It’s not a date? Oh geez..there goes my mind again…next!

It’s 50 miles to the top secret location where Jackson was staying. He’s in a “Ye Olde Typical Connecticut Inn.” He even told me his room number! Yikes! He was really trusting me not to call ALL my CT cat rescue peeps and tell them where I was going. I wanted to tell the WORLD where I was going and who I was about to meet, but I didn’t dare do that. I didn’t want to be that sort of person. I hoped that Jackson and I could be friends and friends don’t betray their friend’s trust. Okay, I DID tell a few of my girlfriends I was going to dinner, but that was IT. I was in a purposeful news blackout online.

On I-95, a very dangerous stretch of highway, I almost got taken out by a Porsche rounding a turn in New Haven. Although I had the tunes cranked and was running through a million scenarios of what was about to happen, I drove very carefully and was able to get out of the way of the over zealous driver in time. It would be just my luck to get into an accident and never see Jackson in person!

At last I saw the exit I needed to take and got off the highway. My GPS said it was only 3 more miles. Just think, Jackson Galaxy is sitting in a hotel 3 miles from where I was at that very moment and I was one of the few people in the world who knew that.

I arrived at the location and my stupid jeans were still damp. It was windy as Hell and I didn’t care if my hair got messed up. I had a smile plastered on my face. My cheeks were sore from smiling so much. I walked into the hotel. I said hello to the woman at the Front Desk and asked to be directed to Jackson’s room since I knew the number. I was so excited I walked right past the elevator she pointed out to me.

Once I got to the correct floor, I walked right past Jackson’s room, not realizing it. I thought I was close, so I decided to text him: “Knock, Knock” instead of knocking on his door for real. I noticed I’d gone too far and turned around, trying to get to his door before he opened it. As I reached his room, the door opened.

There stood Jackson Galaxy…brushing his teeth.

…to be continued...

Sometimes I feel as though there really is some sort of interrelationship between all things. It's difficult to describe exactly what I mean other than by simply stating “it was meant to be”-when random events stitch themselves together to create a larger meaning-is something real. Or is that that I “stitch” those things together to make meaning for myself? Just because you can't “scientifically” prove something doesn't mean it doesn't occur. Science is flawed in that way because if they can't create a test to measure or study something then it cannot be true.

After yesterday's post about what cats would say if they could speak, I found out that my friend's husband accidentally struck and killed a pregnant cat with his car. He is devastated beyond description to not only have lost the mama, but the unborn kittens inside her, as well. As he and his wife mourned the loss, they mutually agreed that they need to rescue another cat and give it a home, in honor of the one who was lost.

This morning, Sam and I drove Gracie to Dr. Larry's so she could finally get her dental cleaning and extraction and have the growth on her abdomen removed and tested to find out if she has cancer. Jessica, who works the front desk, was only one person in the Clinic when we arrived. Since the clinic wasn't full of other clients needing attention, I asked if it would be ok if we put Gracie into her cage and got her set up. I often go into the back of the Clinic so it wasn't unusual. Gracie is so scared of everything, it was the least I could do to see her off properly.

Gracie on the way to Dr. Larry's this morning.

As I set down her carrier, I noticed another cat carrier. It was old, odd, two-tone green plastic crate and far too small for the cat inside it. Crammed into the tiny space was what appeared to be a very big cat. I asked who the cat was and found out that his name is Jasper and he's 20 years old. He's in renal failure. His owner dropped him off to be euthanized. She didn't even have the decency to be with him, instead left him there to end his life at the hands of the good people who work with my Vet. My heart sank.

I asked if it was his time or did he need better supportive care? Was he getting sub Q fluids? Was he on a good diet? She told me that he was brought in last week because he had stopped eating, but they got him to eat and he perked up and ended up going back home, but now this owner said it's time. She won't give him sub Q fluids, perhaps his is too tough to handle. She's done what she can, but clearly has given up.

I couldn't even see the cat's face. All I could see was that he was white and brown tabby. He couldn't stand or even turn around he was in such a small space. I told Jessica that I thought I might have another option and that to please have Dr. Larry consider that I could re-home the cat and possibly give him the extra time he may have left.

She said she would pass along the information, but since none of us knew how seriously ill he was, there was no way to know if he was going to survive the day.

I called my friend and told her about the cat. She said, of course, they would take him, but couldn't take him until Thursday. I made some calls and worked everything out. If Dr. Larry felt the cat wasn't ready to go and the owner would surrender him, that my rescue group, Kitten Associates would take him and pay for his boarding and medical care until he could go to his new home.

It's almost 11am and I'm waiting for news. I'm worried that the longer it takes for me to hear anything, the worse the news will be. I can't change the flow of this cat's life any more than I already have, but it seems curious to me that Gracie was supposed to have her Vet visit two months ago and is having it today. That last night my friend's husband should suffer a tragic event that caused him to want to adopt a senior cat and that today perhaps those decisions and tragedies should come together to create something wonderful…but it's too soon to know that.

All I know is that another cat got treated like trash, but I had his back this time and maybe his life is not meant to be over today. If he is gone, I will honor him with my tears and try again. There are so many out there who need help. I'm just waiting for a sign to know which one is next.

I'm not a disposable object.

Simon

ID 20966
Pet Name/Cage Number: C22
Breed: Brown Tabby DSH
Age: Young
Size: Small
Gender: Male
Spayed/Neutered: No
Date Available: 2/24
Shelter Name: Simon
A very loving kitty. He was difficult to take a good picture of 
because all he wanted to do was nuzzle me and the camera.

Don't dump me outside to fend for myself if I peed on the rug.

Take me to the Vet. Try to see the world from my eyes. Why would I do such a thing? A few minutes of thoughtful consideration might let you find the answer and if it doesn't, take the time to reach out and ask for help. Are you so busy you can't skip watching a TV show or texting your friends and spend that time thinking about what I need? I wasn't always like this, but something changed and I need your help, not your disdain.

Hestia

ID 21029
Pet Name/Cage Number: C24
Breed: Brown Tabby DSH
Age: Adult
Size: Small
Gender: Female
Spayed/Neutered: No
Date Available: 2/27
Shelter Name: Hestia

I don't deserve to be taken to a shelter and left to die, terrified and alone because you don't want to put the effort into taking care of me any more.

Maybe you got busy or had a baby, but you'll find a new routine and the baby will grow up. Why can't I stay with you during these changes in your life? I've loved you unconditionally for my entire life and now, when I'm a senior that no one would want, you turn your back on me. What did I do to deserve this?

Hallie

ID 20875
Pet Name/Cage Number: C32
Breed: Tuxedo DSH
Age: Adult
Size: Small
Gender: Female
Spayed/Neutered: No
Date Available: 2/15
Shelter Name: Hallie
This calm little girl from Morning Dove Lane is ready to 
get out of animal control. She is great with other cats 
and very affectionate. She rolled onto her back and let 
us rub her belly. She and Sandy are great friends if 
you’re looking to adopt two.

When times get tough, have faith that it will get better.

Don't just cast me aside and move away to a place that doesn't allow pets. What about all those nights when you were sad and lonely and I was there for you with a gentle paw and a sweet purr? Won't you give me the same consideration-the same devotion?

Realize that you made a commitment and take it seriously. It's not like a marriage that ends in divorce.

I can't fend for myself without you. I can't build a new life without a lot of help. I give you 100% every day and I don't even ask that from you in return. So why would you buy me on a whim from a pet shop or adopt me as a gift and think you can just return me like a used sweater if it's too much to scoop my litter pan or too costly to provide me with good food and adequate Vet care?

Rascal

ID 21036
Pet Name/Cage Number: C25
Breed: Orange Tabby DSH
Age: Adult
Size: Small
Gender: Male
Spayed/Neutered: No
Date Available: 3/3
Shelter Name: Rascal
This big sweetheart is such a wonderful kitty cat. Don’t you just
want to squeeze his precious cheeks? Well one of our volunteers 
did. How did Rascal respond to this? He purred. As long as she 
was touching him and paying attention to him he was purring.

Why would you be so selfish or foolish as to not have me spayed or neutered?

Don't you care that every single extra cat or dog just forces another cat or dog to die somewhere else? Will I stop being a good mouser if I'm spayed? Clean up your yard. Clean up your basement. Clean your house. You won't need a mouser! Will you feel bad taking my testicles if I'm a male? Why would you want me to be more aggressive, stink up your house spraying and add to overpopulation? It takes part of one day out of your life to get me “fixed” and if you look around, you'll find out there are plenty of places to get it done cheap. Now you don't have to dump me at a shelter, with five newborns fighting to get a meal off me. Because you didn't do the right thing, I will have to watch my precious kittens get killed at the shelter just before I take my last breath. Mamas and kittens are always the first to get sick and to be put down. If you just went without buying another pair of shoes, and not even very good shoes, you could do right by me, instead.

Sandy

ID 20971
Pet Name/Cage Number: C31
Breed: Gray Tabby
Age: Young
Size: Small
Gender: Female
Spayed/Neutered: No
Date Available: 2/25
Shelter Name: Sandy
Sweet, sweet Sandy. How tragic her time at the shelter has come up.
This wonderful little kitty would mesh well in just about any home 
environment. She does well with other cats and likes kids. Don’t 
you just want to give this darling her second chance? She and 
Hallie are great friends if you’re looking to adopt two.

I'm not disposable. I'm a living creature with emotions and needs and I need YOU to take care of me.

Please respect me and fight for me, instead of taking the easy way out by killing me or casting me aside to fend for myself, which is just a slower death. I'm worth fighting for. I know there was a time when you thought so, too.

Even if you give up on me, I'll still love you with my last breath.

Axil

ID 21053
Pet Name/Cage Number: C04
Breed: Buff Longhair
Age: Adult
Size: Large
Gender: Male
Spayed/Neutered: No
Date Available: 3/7
Shelter Name: Axil
This amazing boy would make an excellent companion. 
We haven’t seen him around kids yet, but he is a VERY 
tolerant kitty. Such a handsome boy with a wonderful 
personality to match.

All the cats listed on this page have been disposed of in one way or another. Now they face their last few days. These cats are listed as URGENT-THEY HAVE UNTIL WEDNESDAY. They're at Coweta County Animal Control in Newman, Georgia. If you're with a rescue group, we have a contact who can pull cats on your behalf if you're out-of-state. If you're local and with a rescue, just call Coweta at: 770-254-3735 and give them your GA license info. Use the same number if you are local and want to ADOPT. If you want to adopt any of these cats and live out-of-state, contact me ASAP-SERIOUS INQUIRIES ONLY-and I will forward your info to someone who can help you. Email me at info@coveredincathair.com

Adoption Fees:Cats and Kittens: $45-$70
(Fees include spay/neuter, vet exam, vaccines, microchip and deworming.)
Viewing of Pets/Adoptions: Mon.-Sat. 10:00 a.m.-5:00 p.m.

3/19 UPDATE: Three cats are safe-can we save MORE??! See updated photos for who got rescued or adopted.

Nina

ID 21055
Pet Name/Cage Number: C26
Breed: Black DSH
Age: Young
Size: Small
Gender: Female
Spayed/Neutered: No
Date Available: 3/6
Shelter Name: Nina
This beautiful kitty cat is very affectionate. She thoroughly
 enjoyed being petted and loved on.

Stevie

ID 21052
Pet Name/Cage Number: C1
Breed: White with Black DSH
Age: Adult
Size: Small
Gender: Male
Spayed/Neutered: No
Date Available: 3/7
Shelter Name: Stevie
This big love is ready to leave animal control. Unfortunately 
his time is up on Wednesday. wouldn’t you like to come and 
meet this gentle boy? 
 

©2012 Robin A.F. Olson. Excerpt from My Broccoli-Obsession

That's it. the DOOD is insane! I caught him grabbing at one of the plants, trying to eat it. I remember what Jackson Galaxy said before I started to scold the cat; “with every NO, provide a YES.” So after I got DOOD away from the plant, I warmed up some broccoli for him as his “yes” and the rest is history (repeating itself).

I've never seen a cat go so crazy over anything as DOOD is for broccoli. He makes this growly-purry noise while he's chewing. I can't help but laugh every time he does it. Of course I did give the other cats a chance to enjoy broccoli, too, but none of them wanted any-not that the DOOD would let them near it!

©2012 Robin A.F. Olson. My Broccoli-Obsession

Broccoli? Really?

WARNING: THERE IS A GRAPHIC PHOTO OF AN INGROWN CLAW BELOW. VIEW WITH DISCRETION.

Just when I think I understand cats, something happens that reminds me how wrong I am. Things here are about as terrible as can be. There's a complex territorial situation going on between the cats that results in urinating and defecating out of the litter box. It feels as though I'm Sisyphus. Instead of my task being that I must push a boulder up a mountain every day, only to have it roll back down the hill just as I reach the crest for all eternity; my task is that I believe I've finally worked out what's irking my cats and what will solve their issues, only to have them fight at 3am, urinate in more areas, ruin more things and turn my house into, literally a waste-land (hopefully NOT for all eternity). One day I would like to get up in the morning, walk down stairs and not have to look for, find, and clean up cat urine for an hour before I can do anything else.

©2012 Robin A.F. Olson. Gracie a la Instagram

As you also may recall, my finances are in horrendous shape. It took me a few weeks to get up the nerve to even write about it-then anther few weeks to work up the nerve to upload the post. I spoke of my humiliation in not being able to provide Vet care for one of my cats. Over the past few weeks I worked up the nerve to talk to Dr. Larry about it, figuring I had to try to do something to help Gracie.

©2012 Robin A.F. Olson. Gracie always feels a bit less stressed if I cover her with something while we wait for Dr. Larry.

There's a Demotivator poster that sums up how I feel. Perhaps the mistakes I've made will help others to do better? Right away I learned that I only have to ask and my Vet will tell me I can pay off Gracie's Vet charges over time-and take as long as I need. I have NEVER paid a bill late, always up front, always in full. Dr Larry knows he can trust me and because of that trust, I was able to bring Gracie in to see him yesterday and not worry about the bill.

©Despair.com "Mistakes"

The goals were: 1. Re-check the growth on Gracie's abdomen. Is it cancer? Is it worse? Does it require surgery as we thought three months ago? 2. Assess Gracie's teeth for dental cleaning-they NEED IT.

Gracie is a fragile cat. She's VERY timid, but also VERY sweet. She would never hurt anyone. She cowers in fear and trips to the Vet cause her to tremble. Gracie also suffers from Milliary Dermatitis which I have written about over the years. It's basically a rash of unknown origin…and trust me, we have tried to figure out what is going on with her. Her skin, which was once so covered in scaly, raised scabs that she felt like a reptile. She barbered (chewed off) her fur, vomited daily and bit herself raw and bloody. I ended up using homeopathy which helped her emotional state. We only feed her raw. If she has any canned food she gets worse. Her skin is not perfect, but it's much better. She doesn't vomit daily. She has a bald patch on her tummy, but it's not bloody. I would consider her to be mildly stressed, but overall in very good shape compared to how she was last year.

©2012 Robin A.F. Olson. Of course Dr. Larry won't see Gracie under the towel-or so she thinks.

But Gracie is fearful and skittish..and very hard to give a pill to. She was abused before I ever got her to foster and the scars of that stay with her no matter how quiet and sweet we are with her. She's come a long way, but still tends to run off unless she comes to us. Lately she's been climbing on us at night and sleeping on the bed. Some times I hear her walk into the room. I hear a "click" as one of her claws tap onto the wood floor. I made a mental note to get her claws trimmed when we were at the Vet. I never heard a cat's claws make any sound on the floor before.

©2012 Robin A.F. Olson. Dr. Larry listening in…

Little did I know that one observation and decision would later come to shock me.

-----------------------------

I don't trim my cat's claws. My eyesight isn't that good and the last time I did it I almost cut off a foster kitten's toe. I DO hold the cat and Sam clips the cat's claws-at least the cats we can handle. Gracie has extremely fluffy paws and fur between her toes. She's so skittish, we just don't bother her. I had NO idea there was anything at all wrong with her paws. She did not limp. She did not cry out. Perhaps that she has been climbing on us every night-maybe she was asking for help? I can't say.

All I know is I was holding Gracie while Vet Tech Amber was trimming Gracie's claws. Gracie trembled as usual, but didn't make a fuss. I didn't even have to scruff her.

Amber clipped the back claws, then began the front. She had to spread Gracie's toes apart to see past the fur. She stopped and quietly said; “Oh, she's got an ingrown claw. Let me get Dr. Larry we have to use special clippers for this.”

Before she left she showed me what was wrong. I gasped when I saw it. It looked unreal. There was her claw, turned into itself-a deadly pointy hook, jabbed deeply into her paw. How she was walking around the house, I had NO IDEA. I felt a nauseating flush of adreneline hit my gut. What the HELL?! All I could think of was how fast could we get that out of her paw and how much PAIN Gracie must be in right now-and that she isn't even making a fuss!

©2012 Robin A.F. Olson. The horror of an ingrown claw.

Dr. Larry came in and took a look. As I've heard so many times, his voice took a serious tone. There was no time for sedation. The claw would come out. Dr. Larry just had to make a few cuts to remove it from her paw. Because Gracie is so submissive, he was able to work quickly to remove the claw. Gracie barely struggled. Perhaps she knew he was trying to help. What relief it must have been when that claw came out after a few, quick snips of the nail cutter!

©2012 Robin A.F. Olson. Snip, snip, snip-DONE!

When I saw the claw laying on the exam table, I truly felt sick. I could see a line of blood. It indicated just how deep that claw was into her paw. This had been going on for a long while now-at least three months because that was the last time Gracie was at the Vet. Months of blinding pain. How did she not give me a clue? Or did she show me, but I didn't take notice?

©2012 Robin A.F. Olson. The line of blood indicates where the claw was outside the paw (to the left of the line) and into her paw (from the right side to the tip).

I learned that the older the cat gets, the thicker their claws become. They grow faster as the cat ages and the sheath that usually breaks off every so often, does so less often and that's how ingrown claws can occur.

Gracie is not a polydactyl. It was her fourth toe on her front paw…I called it her ring-toe. She has a hole in her paw and is on antibiotics. She could benefit from a soak in DILUTED betadine solution, but with the meds on board it's not a must.

I looked for information on ingrown feline claws but didn't find much about it. I did discover a kooky looking poster with 3D illustrations of what to do if you discover your cat has an ingrown claw. If it's bad you MUST get your cat to a vet, but some times you can deal with it at home if your cat won't bite your face off when you handle him or her. Here's the info: Step by Step instructions from GoToAid-CATS Download a Poster to keep on hand-pardon the almost pun.

©2012 Robin A.F. Olson. Sleeping under my desk. Relaxed and pain-free at last.

After thinking about it for awhile, I recall seeing Gracie chewing at her paw. I've seen cats do that before to remove the claw sheath. I didn't think anything of it at the time, but that's what I should have been looking for.

I hope ALL of you will take a look at your cat's claws TODAY-especially if they're older! Trim their claws if you can. Take them to the Vet and have it done if you can manage it. Get a friend to help you do it. It's also a good time to remind you to make sure you have plenty of adequate areas for the cat to scratch. You should provide vertical and horizontal surfaces for scratching. I have cat tress with sisal covered posts for vertical scratching. I use corrugated cardboard scratchers for horizontal scratching. I have a chunk of red cedar, too. Cats like it and it's aromatic. While it didn't help Gracie this time, it may have prevented the other cats from having a problem. In 30 years of having cats, I've never had one with an ingrown claw before.

-----------------------------

The biggest surprise was how Gracie acted not even a day later. For the first time in YEARS, I found her, not sleeping away from everyone on the bed, but sleeping right under my desk as I write this. She's not lightly sleeping, ready to RUN off at the slightest sound. She's asleep. Her posture is relaxed. She must be feeling so much better, though there is more to be done to help her feel really good.

The reasons I brought Gracie to the Vet in the first place, were eventually addressed. I discovered that Gracie's growth has reduced in size from 10 mm x 14 mm to 10 mm x 7 (still a nice size for a diamond, but even better size to show a shrinking cyst). Dr. Larry is going to drain it when Gracie gets her dental on Monday. He may send the fluid out for testing, but right now it doesn't look like cancer! Gracie's front teeth are okay but the back teeth are NOT. They're causing her pain, so between the antibiotics and dental cleaning she should be really feeling great in another week.

As for myself, I've never cared for the taste of humble pie, but I have a feeling I better acquire one soon.

the DOOD is up to his usual crazy antics in this sequel to the smash viral video: My Broccoli.

Does the DOOD have a secret “green” tooth? First I caught him shoving his head into an open bag of cooked broccoli and now he has his sights set on another vegetable-victim! What's wrong with this obligate-carnivore?

Maybe the DOOD is a new breed of cat or maybe he'll just eat anything put in front of him? Is the DOOD discerning in his tastes or disturbing? You be the judge!

©2012 Robin A.F. Olson. “My Broccoli: the Sequel”

Make sure you turn up the volume so you can hear the rumbling growls as the DOOD protects his valuable resource from the foster kittens.

What is it going to take for everyone to understand how VITAL it is to spay or neuter their pets-and not only just their pets, but to make CERTAIN that stray, abandoned and feral cats have the same consideration?

In Connecticut, alone, a tiny state, there is estimated to be between 500,000 and 1,000,000 free roaming cats-and the number is growing!

If we don't, as a community, come together and work hard to resolve this problem, we will NEVER see an END to the merciless, brutal, killing of cats in shelters across the country. 11,000 cats and dogs are killed EVERY DAY. EVERY DAY!!!!!

Every day that you get up, go to work, spend time with your family, laugh at a joke, have a cup of coffee…11,000 animals are being killed for no other reason than there just isn't room for them in the shelters due to ever exploding pet population.

I wish it was enough that each of us be responsible for our own cats, but it's not. Even running a cat rescue, I'm not doing enough. I know right now there are 10 kittens in a shelter in the south that will probably die because I have no space to take them. Every day I get 20 or 30 emails begging for help for adult, hard-to-place cats. This is INSANE and it needs to STOP NOW. WE ALL HAVE TO GET INVOLVED TO CREATE A WORLD WHERE PET OVERPOPULATION IS A THING OF THE PAST OR WE WILL NEVER SEE AN END TO URGENT PLEAS FOR HELP TO SAVE ANOTHER CAT'S LIFE OR CRY WHEN WE FIND OUT ANOTHER ONE DID'T “GET OUT ALIVE.”

There is no excuse to put off sterilizing your cat. If it's over 8 weeks of age or 2 pounds in weight, it can be spayed or neutered. Early age S/N has been done for over 10 years. There's no indication that it causes any health issues and does not stunt growth. I do it to my kittens. I've overseen the procedure being done. The kittens recover MUCH faster than adults and have less pain. There is NO REASON TO ALLOW ANY ANIMAL THAT IS ADOPTED TO LEAVE A SHELTER AND NOT ALREADY BE S/N.

It's NOT expensive. There are low cost S/N clinics all over the country. Want to find one? PetSmart Charities’ programs include a $1 million national grant to fund high-quality, affordable spay/neuter operations and feral cat Trap-Neuter-Return (TNR) programs If you visit their site, you'll see a form to input your zip code. Enter the information and you'll get a list of places where you can get your cat S/N for under $80.00. If you can't afford that fee, call around to your local rescues and ASK for help. They may have resources or offer you a voucher to have it done for FREE. It's easy to find your local rescues and shelters by visiting Petfinder. Do a search for shelters “by state” and you'll get a huge list.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. I love kittens, but without being S/N, we know these four will quickly become 20 or more.

If you feel overwhelmed because you put off getting your cats S/N and they are already having litters, then ASK FOR HELP NOW. The sooner you deal with the problem, the better! You MUST deal with keeping your own cats S/N as a top priority so YOU never have to suffer being inundated by cats you can't afford to provide care for, who can easily overtake your home. You don't want that. We don't want that for you. Reach out. There is help available.

Feeding a friendly stray or feral cat? Then you MUST also do the right thing and get that cat S/N. If you need to trap the cat, your local Animal Control can probably loan you a trap and show you how to set it up. If you're too scared to do that or don't have time, contact your local rescue group. They will know someone who does TNR (Trap, Neuter, Return) who can help you, but DO NOT ASSUME they will make your problem go away. They may request that you become the caretaker for that cat, provide it shelter and food for the rest of its' life if it is feral. It's a small price to pay to know you are ensuring there is one less cat who can breed and make your simple problem of one cat, quickly become too many to handle.

©2012 Bobby Stanford. King was born outside with deformed hind legs and survived for a year in dangerous conditions before we rescued him. What kind of life is that for a cat?

Where is the Legislation for MANDATORY S/N?

I honestly have no idea why, since there aren't enough people doing the right thing for their pets, that there aren't strict laws regarding S/N of pets? It's far beyond the point of it needing to be addressed. How many animals have to die before we DO SOMETHING ABOUT THIS?

In 2010 I spoke with Dr. Katrin Warren a Vet from Australia who was hosting a show on Animal Planet about cat care. I was stunned when Dr. Warren nonchalantly told me that there was 98% compliance with the Spay/Neuter laws in the country! Why can't WE DO THAT HERE?

I'm going to say something very unpopular-I also think that we have to put a moratorium on breeding cats and dogs until the overpopulation problem is contained. While I find “pure” bred animals to be just as worthy of being adored and getting great homes as any cat, it's just adding to the problem of cat overpopulation to allow cats to breed more cats! Their “pet quality” offspring, deemed unworthy for the show ring are adopted out, compete with shelter cats, who often don't stand a chance, OR they are dumped at shelters or euthanized. Does this make sense to you? I'm not saying no purebeed cats ever, but-I'm saying NO BREEDING CATS FOR ANY REASON UNTIL THE CAT OVERPOPULATION PROBLEM IS WORKED OUT AND THEN ONLY BY BEING MINDFUL ABOUT THE EFFECT BREEDING WILL HAVE WHEN STARTING UP AGAIN. WE NEED TO THINK ABOUT CATS AS A TREASURE-EACH AND EVERY ONE-NOT PUT CERTAIN CATS ABOVE OTHERS IN THE HEIRARCHY AND SAY THEY DON'T HAVE TO BE S/N BECAUSE THEY ARE SOMEHOW BETTER and more worthy of being bred.

The Cat Fanciers Association lists 600 member locations worldwide and 400 cat shows-and that's just CFA members and shows. There are many others not part of CFA. There are 40 pedigreed breeds of cats. It doesn't take long to realize that there are significant numbers of cats being breed, on purpose and to make a buck, that contribute to the problems with cat overpopulation. Their position on cat overpopulation, frankly, is pretty lame. They basically state, they don't want needless euthanasia and urge their breeders to be responsible, but to say: “The responsible breeding of pedigreed cats is of value to society in order preserve the domestic cat breeds and to provide animals with desirable and predictable physical and personality characteristics. Further, our position is that we are opposed to any law or regulation which would prevent the exercise of these activities.”

They're contradicting their own position! They oppose legislation that would impose S/N laws on their breeders even though it would end the “needless euthanasia” they make in their first point. We have to look at the global picture. It's a picture of death to cats-millions of them. I have no problem with having pedigreed cats IF we didn't have rampant overpopulation. It would be fun to go to a cat show under those circumstances. I find when I go to one now, I think about all the cats who are going to die because we agree it's OK for these special cats to keep breeding and adding to the problem. The problem is too big to say breeding of ANY kind is OK; maybe someday, but not now. What is the significance of a “purebred” cat versus a “mixed breed” cat? Thinking you can predict a personality trait through breeding is ridiculous. Take that away and the only reason for breeding is all based on what the cat looks like. That's it. So just because a cat looks a certain way it shouldn't be considered in any S/N legislation? Or worse..we shouldn't have S/N legislation at all?!

©2009 Robin A.F. Olson. Just a few days old. So perfect. So innocent, yet if it wasn't for me, this kitten and her siblings would have died. She was lucky, but thousands of other kittens never had a chance. There's just no space to take them all so many must die.

We have caused this problem, now we have to clean it up-even if we already did the right thing for our own cats and dogs. The problem is too big to solve if we don't each do MORE. Make certain our neighbors S/N their pets. Make sure our friends and family do the same. If we ALL take responsibility for EVERY CAT-not just our own, it will be a thing of the past to see animals suffering death in a gas chamber, by heart-stick, by injection.

We don't want this to happen-all this death. Our eyes are red from tears, mourning for the millions already lost to us. Let us stop this now-work together, and by “FIXing” all cats, we FIX the problem for good.

I was making chicken stew from scratch. I don't have a true recipe and was just making it up as I was going along. I decided I wanted to do something different so I prepped some mushrooms, onion, carrots, peas and BROCCOLI to add to the stew. I had a bag of frozen broccoli, so I microwaved to get it thawed out and ready to add to the stew. The package was a “steamer bag” and to open it, you just rip the top off and it sits upright until you empty it out.

Of course with all the cooking, the cats were hovering close by-too close in some cases. It was a constant battle to keep them out of the food as it was being cooked. I figured I didn't have to worry about the cats getting into the chopped carrots, peas or open bag of broccoli sitting on the counter as I stood by the stove stirring the cooking meat…until…

©2012 Robin A.F. Olson. Is it true? Is the DOOD hooked on the green monster?

…I heard a sound. I turned in time to catch the DOOD, standing on the top of the lidded garbage can. His back legs were on the can and his front were on the counter! A big no-no! What was worse was catching him as he pulled his head OUT of the bag of broccoli, in his mouth a huge floret!

I scolded him but he was too busy running off into a corner of the kitchen, fiercely growling the entire time. What the HECK was going on? Broccoli? Really?

The rest is history…

©2012 Robin A.F. Olson. Don't $#&^!! with the DOOD's Broccoli!

Needless to say there wasn't any broccoli in the stew. I did save the bag of broccoli to test on the other cats. It was very odd. None of them wanted it, but the DOOD, the DOOD will chase me around the house to get at HIS BROCCOLI!

Don't $#@$!! with the DOOD's broccoli!

--------------------

If you didn't already hear the news, the DOOD has his very OWN Facebook page! Make sure you stop by and visit him! https://www.facebook.com/HisRoyalDOODness

I was very disappointed when King and Miss Fluffy Pants's (is this her name? It was just a code name, but I think it might stick) reunion was not a happy one. It was clear they were never friends at the Palette factory, where they were both rescued from. Perhaps they even competed for the same scraps of food?

King was nonplused at the first meeting, but Miss FP was pissed. She hissed and growled when Maria let her out of the cat carrier, into the small bathroom that would be her new home. We didn't realize it at the time, but Miss FP had just had a terrible 48 hours. She was sedated, then the Vet realized she'd already been SPAYED! She had her blood drawn and we found out she may be FIV+. She was nose to nose with a big dog at the clinic and she was so distressed when she tried to attack him through the door of the carrier, the momentum of all that energy almost flipped her cat carrier over and onto the floor! With her life turned upside down, from the routine of living on scraps at the Palette factory, to a clinic full of scary smells and a big dog encounter, needless to say, Miss FP was not a happy camper to be yet at another strange place full of different smells.

If Maria had space in her home, she would not have put Miss FP with King, but we had no choice. We had to make it work until we could figure out what to do.

After Maria let Miss into the room, she let it be known that she did not want to be touched or be anyone's friend. She was so fractious that Maria was scared to go near her. Fearing for King's safety and with no other options we decided to put Miss into a crate so at least she couldn't bite King. With a disability to contend with, I didn't want King to be exposed to FIV+, too.

©2012 Maria. S. Miss FP in her little crate.

We were all very unhappy with the situation and I started to scramble, thinking of what I could do to make it better. Maria had to be at work. She couldn't stay home and monitor the cats so Miss was stuck in a tiny cage, probably getting angrier by the minute, while poor King started to cry and urinate all over his bedding.

A day passed and Maria let Miss out of her cage to stretch. She hissed at King, but didn't growl. It was progress, but not much. King was still urinating around the room to the point where we worried he had a urinary tract infection. Maria was very stressed and tired-and who wouldn't be from having to do a mountain of laundry and deal with her own cats and work, then come home to a big mess! I was getting stressed out because I couldn't figure out what to do and living 1000 miles away, I couldn't just come over and help-which I desperately wanted to do.

I realized I had to take it in small steps.

Number one: Western Blot test for Miss-ASAP. If she truly IS FIV+ then maybe she has to go to another rescue? I have two rooms in my home for fostering, that's it, and kitten season is almost here and it will be early this year since the weather is so warm. I can't bring an FIV+ cat who is nasty into my house and hope I will ever find her a home. I'll just end up not being able to help countless other cats if that happens. It was a terrible predicament. We even discussed returning her to the Palette factory now that she was vetted. At least we could donate some food for her and a new cat bed, but I knew in my heart that I'd never sleep again if I did that to her.

I had to find out how to reach this supposedly friendly cat. Bobby had told me she was very affectionate, but all Maria had seen was a cat who would swat at her hand or growl at her.

Maria sent me a photo so I could see some progress in the situation. All of a sudden, alarm bells went off in my head. I realized we had completely misunderstood Miss FP from the start.

©2012 Maria. S. The photo that changed everything for me.

The photo seems innocent enough. King sits near Miss's small cage. Neither cat is looking at the other. Maria interpreted it as King wanting to be close to Miss to be friends, but because he was ignoring her, I looked at it differently. Was King letting Miss FP know HE was in charge of the room-after all he's free to walk about and that HE could sit right up next to her crate and at any given moment, if he wanted to, he could pounce on top of the cage and get her, attack head on or get at her from any side of the crate. She was completely trapped and completely exposed. No wonder she was freaking out!

Maria also mentioned not being able to go near Miss FP. Then, I noticed the food dishes in the crate. They were full. Another alarm went off in my head-the food had to GO. Miss needed to be fed BY Maria, twice a day and that was it. No free feeding her. Miss needed to bond with Maria and see Maria as something good, not bad. Maria was the food provider, not the Dungeon Master!

Miss needed OUT of the cage ASAP. She needed a place in the bathroom to call her own. The problem is-where would that be in a such a small space? Of course…we needed a cat tree!

A cat tree would add a lot of vertical space to the room. Odds are, King would not be able to climb it, but Miss could. She could have the upper area to herself and feel safe. Perhaps that was what she needed?

In the middle of all this craziness, Maria and I are trying to help a pregnant Tortishell cat who was found by an elderly couple in the area! Maria was running around trying to get the cat some help, run Miss FP to the Vet to get her Western Blot test done AND she had to get to the pet store and find a cat tree ASAP!

I'm very lucky Maria is so devoted to helping cats or this would have been a complete nightmare.

Then, another puzzle piece fell into place. Maria warned the Vet Tech at East Lake Vet Hospital, to be very careful handling Miss FP. That she was nasty and might bite. The Tech said she would do her best and took Miss FP into the back of the building to do the blood draw. Awhile later, the Tech came out. Maria was worried something bad had happened and asked how it went. The answer surprised her and gave me a rush of hopeful excitement:

The Tech remarked that in all her years of working with cats, that Miss FP had been ONE OF THE EASIEST, NICEST and SWEETEST cats she'd ever worked with!

What was the difference? Was there a magic pill that she gave Miss FP? No. First, Miss FP was NOT in a room with another cat. Second, Miss FP didn't have to worry about territory. Third, the Tech probably approached her gently-not that Maria didn't do that, but Maria had grown fearful of the cat. All this adds up to-this cat is NOT fractious-she's ANGRY and SCARED!

Maria got a great cat tree and thanks to the donations we got for King's care, we could afford to get one right away instead of have to shop for one on discount, then wait a week for it to arrive. Maria set up the cat tree. I told her to take the cage out of the room. No more cage for Miss. We had to trust that she would not hurt King. She might take a swipe and him and claw him, but she'd calmed down enough for us to believe she'd not be a risk to give him FIV+. It was a very tough call, but for the sanity of Miss, we had to do it. Unfortunately, King cried with her out of the crate, then urinated on his bed. Was his sick or scared?

I can't explain how I knew what to do, but I can say that within moments of letting Miss investigate the cat tree, it was VERY CLEAR it was what she needed all along.

©2012 Maria. S. There's no footage of Miss FP being fractious because it was too dangerous for Maria to shoot video. She needed to protect herself and King. This video shows what happened after we put the cat tree into their room.

Miss FP climbed onto the top of the cat tree, nervously licked her mouth for a moment, then laid on her side and started to “make muffins” into the carpeting on the cat tree.

Maria didn't hesitate. She reached out to give Miss FP a pet. Her bravery was rewarded with a head butt into her hand. Maria overcame her reluctance to get close to Miss FP and had the simple joy of getting to know her as she really was all along.

©2012 Maria. S. Safe in her new space, Miss FP enjoys some sunshine.

Miss FP relaxed. Her eyes were soft. Her movements were slow and easy. Her tail did not whip around or even move. She was HAPPY and with her happiness came more surprises.

©2012 Maria. S. The posture and “soft eyes” of a happy cat.

Miss loves to be brushed. She loves to be petted. When her anger and fear washed away; a sweet lady emerged.

King stopped peeing on the floor.

King stopped crying.

King is still lonely and still loves Maria's cat, Kahlua, who comes in to visit for a few minutes once in awhile. King has also perked up now that he has some toys and the cat tree base to play with!

Although Miss and King are not best friends, they both have safe spaces to live in and places they can call their own. I'm sad that King wants a friend, but can't find one in Miss FP, but with all the surprises we've had, perhaps there are more to come?

©2012 Maria. S. We may make changes for King after this but we'll see how it goes. What do you think?

For now we wait for Miss's blood test results and we hope she is not FIV+.Tomorrow, King goes to meet Dr. Alan Cross, an orthopedic surgeon, who may help us understand what happened to King's back feet and what we can do to help him live a more comfortable life.

We couldn't have done ANY OF THIS if we hadn't gotten the support from so many of you. You honor King with your love and your donations. His success is due to your support, Maria's love and devotion to cats in need and my determination to unlock the mystery of what these cats are thinking and how to provide what they need.