Santa's Team

People often ask me; ”How can you let foster cats go? Don't you miss them? Doesn't it make you sad? Cry?”

I energetically answer that if I don't adopt them out, I can't rescue more. I already have seven cats, which is more than plenty. It's not wise to add on to the “family” for a variety of reasons. Sure, it hurts when the cats leave, but usually they're only here from just a few days to a few weeks. If that's the case, hey, anyone can do this. Just keep them moving in, then leaving promptly. It's doable.

What happens when it's NOT the case? What happens not only when you've had foster cats for a few MONTHS, but what if they were all sick? They all needed you? Some were so sick you didn't know if they would survive? How can you not become deeply attached?

How do you let THOSE foster cats go?

Jennifer has been caring for Rudy & Comet for months. They are no longer in their foster room, but have the full run of the house. They frolic and play and love life. Jennifer's been crying, thinking about them leaving. I've been reminding her that we'll find them a great home and we'll keep them together if we can. That she can't adopt more cats. Jennifer not only has plenty of cats, too, but she has seniors and special needs kitties. Adding two spunky kittens to that mix would not be good in the long term.

I'm not telling her anything she hasn't told herself. She's steeling herself for the day, which may come VERY soon, for when she has to say goodbye to them and I feel really bad about that. I never wanted her to have a bad experience fostering, but I can't protect her from this.

I, too, am faced with the same thing.

Today was the big day. After MONTHS of struggle, I was able to put all but Blitzen on Petfinder. The cats are ready to go, at last!

The problem is...in looking over my photos and selecting the ones that are the cutest and will garner lots of interested adopters, I found myself awash in tears. I could barely type out a description or upload a photo. I'm still crying now.

I just kept looking at their faces. I missed them and they are still here. I never want any of them to leave. They've all captured my heart and I honestly don't know if I can be here when they get adopted.

And if this wasn't painful enough, Sam and I are done after 17 years. I am flat out heartbroken. The person I used to be able to go to when I was sad and needed a hug is lost to me, probably forever.

I have lost so much in my life. I don't know how to go on.

I suppose this is what they call burnout or just a big, bad bump in the road? Whatever it's called, I don't recommend it.

At almost four months of age, Blitzen is looking like a proper kitty now.

After a long, miserable night, spent mostly with food poisoning and an empty bed, I managed to get up another day and begin the usual rounds of caring for the cats. Tomorrow Blitzen is slated to be neutered. I called the Vet to double check that it was still all right to bring him, bearing in mind he has something on his head that is...I'm not supposed to make a diagnosis to this Vet, but...it's RINGWORM, OK?

It's hard to hold a wiggly kitten still long enough to look and my close-up vision ain't what it used to be. It wasn't until I looked at the photos that I could see just how bad things were looking.

You tell me that's not ringworm!

There's the telltale crust. It's gotta be ringworm. I've been treating it topically, but I wonder if I should do more? I guess I can wait until the Vet sees him tomorrow. Of the 4 kittens, he was the sickest, the longest, so it's not a complete surprise, BUT..now what? What about his siblings? He's going to have to be with me another few weeks. There is no where to quarantine him too. Everyone has been exposed. I'm in full “fuck-it” mode about this ringworm nightmare.

Sick or not, I've really fallen for this little guy. I'm not sure I can part with him. Maybe I'm willing him to stay here and he's responding by getting sick again? Sure. I have super powers. Why can't I have the super power that wins me a huge lottery payout?

I'd settle for super powers that make Blitzen be the last cat (or PERSON) I EVER see with RINGWORM!

I do the best I can. Maybe it's not enough. Certainly I'm flawed in how I deal with things. It's part of the human condition-that old clichè that no one is perfect.

March is just about here and I thought that perhaps in a week, all the fosters would be ready to go on Petfinder-the process of finding them homes would finally begin. Now that Blitzen probably has ringworm, all my plans are tossed in the wind. The balance of keeping them here until I'm sure they're healthy vs. the ticking clock, is a losing one. The older they get, the less chance they'll have of finding a home.

Cupid has been going crazy being confined. After three long weeks and her nightly rants-usually around 2 AM and 5 AM, where she'll start to cry and bang on the door to be let out test my patience. One morning, I was so angry I burst in the room and yelled, shoving her with my foot. I didn't hurt her, merely scared her, but it scared me, too. I think we're all tired.

I let her out the next day. Enough is enough. Quarantining her from the kittens didn't help keep them from getting the ringworm. No big surprise. I couldn't see the how it would help to keep her locked up any longer.

The big reunion didn't go as hoped. The kittens, their tails up high, ran to their Mother, eagerly sniffing her. She grabbed one and bit down on it, wrestled it to the ground and started to bunny-kick it. This was not play time. This was serious. Long gone are the days of Motherly love. I stopped her from doing more harm, but she continued to do it to the others.

I don't know enough about the Mother-Offspring relationship after the Mother has long since been spayed. I give her short time periods to run around with the kittens and if she gets out of hand, I put her back in seclusion. Again, the balance tips...trying to find a way for everyone to be comfortable and happy together.

Along this bumpy road, the balance has been tipped in my relationship with Sam, too. Today, out of the blue, he came down hard on me about something that didn't warrant such a harsh reaction. Apparently, I was supposed to know that whatever upset him, was not about the incident, itself, but from 17 years of other things that I can't quite understand.

I'm not asking anyone to take sides. I don't know who is right or wrong or if it matters any more. I just felt beat down and tired and done. I put my engagement ring back in its' box and left it by Sam's side of the bed. Is this it? I don't know.

All I know is that life is a struggle to seek “smooth sailing”-that perfect place where things are all right and everyone is happy. Thing is, maybe it's all just a struggle with no happy ending? Learning how to accept that...maybe that's what matters?

I was just thinking about this blog post. How I was going to write that this is it. In a few days, I can start putting some of the fosters up for adoption. FINALLY! We have an adoption event coming up on March 6th. Perfect!

About 5 minutes after I took this photo of me with Blitzen, I thought I would check on this bloody scratch I found on his head a few days ago. I couldn't really see it, but it felt crusty. My heart sank.

I got Sam to hold Blitz for me so I could look with a magnifying lens. Yeah, looked ringwormy. Then I got out my black light and looked again. I think it was florescing green-the telltale sign but his tear ducts looked a bit green, too.

So tomorrow I'll see if I can get the little bugger over to see Dr. Larry. If it IS ringworm, I can probably kiss any hope of getting this kittens adopted before they are adults, out the window. At almost three months off schedule, this is just killing me to have them here this long.

Oh well. Not like this is all that surprising. What I'm waiting for is for ME to get it. I predict I will get a big BALD ringworm lesion on my head just around my birthday in April and my trip to attend BlogPaws. Just you wait. I said it here, first!

It's tough on Cupid being confined and it's tough on me because I've got to spend time with her every day to keep her from going crazy. I know she's lonely and bored. The hour or more we spend together-spread out across the day in short play-periods, is something, but not enough. I can't wait for this to be over. I'm sure she would agree.

Still waiting for that darn ringworm to GO AWAY! Looking pretty as ever, during the process, of course.

The ringworm hasn't spread, KNOOCK WOOD, to any other part of her body, nor has is spread, KNOCOK WOOD AGAIN, to ANY of the kittens, myself, Sam or our cats. So far, so good.

Next week ends four weeks confined. At that time, I'm going to beg Dr. Larry to give me the go-ahead to free her from the bathroom. I wonder how she'll be with her kittens after such a long separation? Her mammary glands are finally flat and normal again and her spay surgery wound is healed and barely visible. Cupid's put on a few POUNDS and looks terrific. I just wonder if she'll remember her offspring or look at them as strangers?

On March 6th, we're having an Adoption Event. I had to cancel the last two because WE HAD NO CATS. With any luck, ALL the fosters will be READY to be ADOPTED-at LAST!!!!

Cupid enjoys batting at toys with her paws. She's very expressive with them. I can get her to give me a “high five” or she'll reach out to get me to pet her. She's a very sweet cat.

By the Adoption Event, the cats will have been here almost THREE MONTHS. Compared to the last group I took in from GA, those 9 were here for only 10 days before they all went to great homes. You think this will be tough-saying goodbye to this pile o' cats?

Tough doesn't even come close.

After MONTHS of Vet visits, mounds of medications and lots of hope, sprinkled with tears and love, “Santa's Team” is finally recovering from their horrendous URI's, eye infections and ringworm. Hopefully, very soon they'll be ready to move forward with the next chapter of their lives.

In honor of Valentine's Day and the loving support you've given to me and the kitties during this tough time, I ask you to considering giving a donation to help us pay their HUGE Vet bill.

While we're looking at well over $1500 in care and medications, I'm not going to ask for a lot from each of you. I know times are tough and there are so many others who need help, too.

All I ask is to donate the cost of a box of chocolates, about $10 (or more if you can) to our Angel Fund or our General Donation Fund. 100 percent of your donation goes straight to helping the animals in our Program. Your donation is also tax deductible (as the law allows), as The Animal Center is a registered non-profit 501(c)(3).

And on a personal note, I want to let you all know how very much I appreciate and am humbled by your friendship, your compassion to help homeless and injured animals and your willingness to share your life story with me, as I share mine with you.

Happy Valentine's Day!

Robin, your cat hair covered hostess

Poor Cupid. Today is day nine of her being quarantined from her kittens. She's doing well, but is very sad about being alone most of the day. I'm the only one she sees and there are just not enough hours in the day to hang out with her, give the kittens some time, give my cats some time, give me some time to work.

We're all making due with less, it seems.

The DTM culture isn't done “culturing” yet, but it HAS turned slightly pink. This may indicate she has a fungal infection, but NOT ringworm. In a few days we'll know for sure. I hope she doesn't have ringworm so I can let her OUT of the bathroom! I hate keeping her confined! She's not eating well and I fear that the nice weight she's put on is going to just slip off her and she'll be back to skin and bones again.

Off to the visit Dr. Larry. This time with Blitzen! He's just not getting over the URI, so time to tweak his meds or just stop giving the poor thing antibiotics. It's so tough on him and he's been on them for over 4 weeks now!

I'm so cute. You must LOVE ME!

I know. It's so close you can almost smell it, right?

This is what I get for letting the kittens run around in my bedroom without giving them access to a litter pan. I also should not have shown Dancer and Donner that it's fun to drink out of the faucet. Now they're obsessed with playing in both of the “jack and jill” sinks. One of the kittens got the great idea to “drop off a few friends at the pool” when I left them unattended for a few minutes! I left them alone too long, so it was my fault.

I got everything cleaned up and bleached and the kittens back to their room. Later last night, I let them back into the bedroom for some play time. They weren't even in the room for 10 minutes before I got a death-whiff of something NASTY. I hoped one of the kittens ripped a “toot,” but as I made my way to the bathroom (MY sink, by the way), it was clear that Dancer was just finishing up taking (really it would be LEAVING) a dump.

Great. Now I need to keep them locked up in their room for a day or two. I don't want this to become a habit. Also, I better get a litter pan in my bedroom when I let them play in there.

I know it could be worse. As Sam said; "At least it wasn't on the bed."

My answer was: “As far as we know.”

I let the kittens out of their room to have a break while I built the cat tree. They saw the parts and got all excited! Each kitten had to sniff-test everything before they got bored and ran into the bathroom to rip the towels off the holders ('cause it's FUN).

I read the directions. I only needed ONE tool. How hard is this gonna be to build? Piece of cake! I just needed to find a 7/16" wrench (though I had to look up WHAT a wrench looked like online, first!).

This is not bad at all. I just have to screw THREE legs into the platform that has FIVE holes in it. Okay there's a clue here. Not all the holes look the same. Two do not have threads in the hole, so they must not be for the legs?!

I screwed down the legs, but they didn't fit tight to the base and I was worried I'd strip the screws, so I did the best I could. I know I'm going to use bolts on the opposite end of each cedar post, to connect it to another platform. I'm thinking this will give the cat tree the rigidity it needs. I thought it was weird that the bolts were driven into the bottom of each post, along with a tag, reminding whatever fool was building this thing that yes, THIS is the bolt you need.

Why isn't the bolt in a NICE PLASTIC BAG? Why is the FOUR HUNDRED MILE LONG BOLT in the end of the post? I use the wrench, not sure which end of it, to get the first of THREE bolts out. I turn it. The post turns, but the bolt does not. The post is ROUGH cedar, so my hands are going to get full of splinters if I hold it tightly.

I get a wash cloth to protect my hands, grab the post and give the bolt a turn. FINALLY it budges a QUARTER of a TURN. WHAT LUNATIC PUT THE BOLT INTO THIS POST? Was it a sister with PMS, too? I hope a woman would have more sense. This f-ker was in there so TIGHT that the best I could do was do quarter turns, even stopping every so often to MEASURE how much of the damn bolt had come out of the damn post, to see if I was ALMOST DONE. It got to 1 3/4" and I took a break. I read my book for awhile. I played with the kittens. My hands hurt and I was already getting a knot in my neck. I was not going to give up. I would just go slow.

I had no choice in the matter. My only speed was SLOW. I got up and went back and tried again. This time I discovered that being fat is an advantage. I could hold the post with my left hand, press the post against my stomach to keep the bloody thing from turning, then use my right to unscrew the damn bolt.

It worked.

It took an hour to get the three legs put on the cat tree. Just about that time, Sam came home. He must have either remembered I was having PMS or took drugs, because he came into the bedroom, saw what I was doing and offered to help get it finished up. He was nice. Something was wrong. Maybe he knocked off a piece with a Mistress! Of course! That was it! Instead of going to the Store, he shagged a cheap floozy! I'd have to check the fridge and pantry to make sure he really went to the store! I didn't say anything, but I simmered, waiting for further clues.

The rest of the assembly was very easy-of course, because Sam showed up. So no one will believe what a beyatch it was to get those bolts off! My biceps knew better, plus I swore I had a splinter just over my belly button.

The kittens gathered around to inspect the new cat tree before it was delivered to their very lonely and bored Mama.

Sam moved the cat tree for me while I stood in the bathtub, holding Cupid in my arms, waiting for the next fight to begin. We were both being very careful to use as few words as possible and to just get the job done so we could separate again until the next mating season would draw us back together.

I placed Cupid on her new cat tree. She gave it a sniff and jumped off it. Great. Another wise expenditure of funds I don't have.

She came right back, jumped up and begin to investigate. I scratched my fingers against the nice, tall sisal post to get her attention. Right away she grabbed it, dug her claws in deep and stretched out her back. It must have felt good to her since there is nothing soft in the bathroom she can scratch.

She posed pretty for a few photos. At first, not sure what to think about this thing.

I hoped she would warm up to it and in a few minutes of me petting her, she began to relax and enjoy her new hangout spot.

It made me forget I was hormonal to see Cupid enjoying herself. Although there's little room for me to sit down with her, at least during the many hours she's alone, she can get up high enough to see out the window and scratch and nap on a number of different platforms.

I counted my blessings that I got that cat tree built without killing anyone and that Sam and I had an unspoken truce. I would go back to the bedroom and read while the kittens played. Sam would play his guitar in the basement. Cupid would enjoy her cat tree. All of us alone, but somehow still together, under the same roof. Now we just had to wait for all this nonsense to pass and for life to settle back down again.

Update: Groceries WERE purchased. No floozies were had. Cupid enjoys the out-of-bounds, brand new, cat bed that's on the top of the dryer. So far she doesn't hang out on the cat tree unless I'm in the room. Hmpf.

It's not my fault I get PMS. I didn't go online and order a 12-pack of the “Super-Beyatch 2010 Kit.” You know, the one with “extra Rage flavored” tablets?

I get PMS. Some times it's REALLY bad. I think it's PMDD, but since I'm going insane at the time, it's tough to do any research when all I want to do is slit my wrists, cry, get mad about things that only usually annoy me, watch chick flicks, overeat carbs, or do all of those things at the same time.

As a Public Service, I notify Sam a few days ahead to watch out. I do this every single month. Every single month he seems to FORGET to steer clear of me during this malström and gets pissed at me when I start to get pissy.

Yesterday we had to run some errands. Before we even left the house, Sam noticed we'd gotten a big shipment by the front door. I was delighted to see that Cupid's new Cat Tree had arrived! The box was too huge to schlep into the house so I suggested we cut it open and take the parts into the house and leave the box in the garage to take to out to be recycled later. So Sam stepped up and started ripping the box apart. Intent on being helpful, he grabbed at the contents of the box as I had already started to do. I hit some of his fingers and he recoiled back, shouted, then gave me a REALLY nasty look. Well my friends, that was it.

There goes the switch. KAH-CHONG! (Yes, that's the sound it makes. Trust me.) The PMS I had been trying so hard to avoid went from a simmer to a boil. I thought; “If he hadn't been trying so hard to be a Boy Scout (push me out of the way), we could have just gotten this done without the drama!” Now I was mad. He was mad. The tension only got worse as I drove (safely and not insanely) to the Bakery.

In trying to avoid things going more postal, I said that I didn't feel like we were getting along very well and that I thought we should forget doing the other errands and just go back home. Well, that just pissed Sam off even more, but what was I to do? I knew that at any moment I was going to lose control, drive into a tree, screaming all the while; “I TOLD YOU I WAS GOING TO HAVE PMS. I TOLD YOU. DID YOU LISTEN TO ME, EVER?!!!!SEE? THIS IS WHAT YOU GET FOR NOT PAYING ATTENTION! WHY DIDN'T YOU STAND NEAR ME IN THE BAKERY? DO I SMELL BAD? YOU HATE ME, DON'T YOU!”

So we got home. I took off my coat, trying to be calm. Sam walked in the door, got his car keys and turned around and curtly said; “I'm going to the store.”

You have GOT to be kidding me! We didn't even HAVE to go to the store. So I offer up the shopping list and manage not to rip his head off. All I could do was think what a jerk he was for putting a bigger rift between us while I'm really trying NOT to do or say a thing. It's the only way to prevent Armageddon. 100% avoidance of each other until it passes!

I decided I was going to build the stupid cat tree for Cupid. I told myself I would go slow and if I got upset, that I would stop. I saw the video about how to build the cat tree on Drs. Foster Smith's web site. It looked super easy. I can do this. I do not need help!

RIGHT???!!!