The Meanest Person in the World

Being a foster mom has its' rewards, but there's also a price to pay. This is the time I hate. Time to pay up. The past eight weeks have been spent watching my two wards grow and thrive—the first purr, the first taste of (grain free!) cat food, the first time they climbed up on the bed, the first nap-collapsed in my lap, the first tiny cry.

Their success is my joy. Knowing they're safe from the cold, cruel world, lifts my heart. Seeing them bat their mom on the nose as they dance across the room after a small toy mouse gives me fits of giggles. It's precious—each and every moment.

But time nags at me. I know. I know! Here it is, time to move on. Time to pack up the kittens into a cat carrier. Time to convince "mama" it's time to go with them, in her own carrier. They're confused. They don't know why they can't be together or what is happening to them. They're placed face to face in the back seat of my car. I drape a blanket over the carriers both to keep them warm and knowing the dark will soothe them some.

For the most part, there is silence during the 16 mile drive. Every so often I hear mama cry out softly. All she wants is to be free to care for her offspring and to comfort them as they huddle fearfully together. I always wish I could tell them what's going to happen, but with such bad news, would they really want to know?

Yes, my dears, I'm taking you to a Vet. He's going to stick a needle in your leg and make you go to sleep. When you wake up you'll feel cold, groggy and sore. Your belly will be shaved and will probably ache. You'll be alone and confused. You'll spend the night in a cage and alone in the darkness. The next day someone will come for you, yet another stranger. You'll be taken for a ride in the car, then you'll be given back to the lady who has been caring for you for two months. You'll get to see your sister and your Mother in your old room, but your joy will be short-lived.

Two days after you're reunited, you'll be separated. Not only will you never see your Mother again, but you'll never see your sister again or the nice lady who has been your friend for such a long time.

You'll be living in a new place that doesn't have other cats to make friends with or even a scary dog who'll chase you. Everything will seem overwhelming and terrifying to you. Eventually, you'll seek solace with the human who adopts you, all the while, wondering where your own family went. If you only had, at least, your sister with you, your world wouldn't feel like it came to an end.

You'll resign yourself to this new life and find your happiness as you can. With any luck, you'll be treated with love and compassion for the rest of your life. If you misbehave or rip up the rug you may be hit or you may be banished to a single room. You may even be dumped outdoors, with no skills to survive. Maybe you'll be lucky enough to find someone to help you find a new home, a safe way station? Maybe you won't be so lucky. Maybe this is all for nothing—all this work and care, feeling like the meanest person in the world.