Who Knew?

Circa 2006, the cats gather 'round the fridge. Is it for a late night snack? In so many words, YES.

Go ahead, YOU tell me what this means. Don't need a manual to understand this cat behavior I photograhped in 2006, right?

Coincidently, the same thing is going on in my bathroom right now. Some critter is makin' a whole lotta noise in the wall behind the shower stall. Sweet! Guess it's time to pull out the havahart trap before my cats find whatever creature has moved in.

By the way, the mouse that was under the fridge was probably depressed and suicidal because I can't figure out any other reason why a mouse would DARE come into my house!

If you read my last post, you know that Blitzen found his forever home yesterday. If you read my last post v-e-r-y carefully, you might have noticed something else, too.

I said I cried when the Adoption Agreement was signed, which was true. I didn't say whose signature was on the paper or if my tears were sad ones.

It's something to consider.

The other thing to consider is how sweet, friendly and loving this little cat has become. He always seems to have a sunny outlook on life. Everything is interesting and exciting to him, to be explored and enjoyed. Every time I look at him I smile. I could find a way to let Blitzen go, but life is too short. Why do I have to say goodbye? I have a lot of cats, what's one more? Will it ruin my life or ruin my other cats life? Probably not.

So the signature, one of two, is mine. The other, not seen above, is Sam's. I cried because I was happy and maybe a tiny bit scared to make this commitment.

My old boss said; “It is what it is.” I think that sums it up nicely. Sure, I could go nuts worrying about how this cat will impact our lives or do calculations that tell me it's going to by tough on our budget to have an EIGTH cat, but it is what it is. We'll find a way to manage.

I guess I got tired of having to say goodbye and longed to say something new.

“Welcome to the Family, Blitzen!”

...and it's with us.

Google has come up with a nifty little video generator called Search Stories that allow you to create a quick video out of google searches. I made one in a few minutes. Let's see what you guys come up with! You can post the links to me via email and I will post them here (I have to give the vids a once-over and they need extra admin permissions for the videos to work).

Here's the one I created:

What a day. A day of no fighting, but not a day without tears. Mind you, I did well and have been enjoying learning more about Columbus and it's surrounds until Blog Paws got under way early this evening.

We starting out innocently trying to find a cool “foodie” quality place for breakfast. Sam and I both abhor eating at a hotel, partially because of the prices (they got ya, so they charge for it) and the food is usually not very inspired.

I found two choices. We headed towards one. Golden Donut & Diner. Just sounds yummy, right? We were both starving and ready to stuff ourselves. Not having a map, we gave the GPS the address and headed out. No sooner than we left our little part of town, we hit not a house or a block, but a NEIGHBORHOOD of boarded up, run down, empty single family homes, duplexes, and row houses. It was shocking. It broke my heart. I had no idea such hard times had fallen on Columbus. We kept driving down street after street. We saw maybe one or two people out. It was like the town had given up and either moved away or died. I saw a “For Sale” sign on a home. It was a cute, Craftsman style bungalow. $10,000.00. YES, TEN THOUSAND DOLLARS. Rough shape or not, all the other homes around it were empty and closed up. I felt terrible seeing this. This is not the America I live in. It's shameful. How did we let our fellow citizens down?

We found the diner, but I was too nervous to eat there. I should have done it and I feel badly. We found our second choice about a mile away. It's called, First Watch and the food was good. Really hit the spot.

As I watched the diners take their seats and eat their meals, I was tempted to ask them to tell me what happened to their town? But as Sam pointed out-this didn't happen over night. Whatever happened has been going on for a long time. Maybe I'm the last to know. I need to look into this situation further. I still intend on rescuing every cat I can, but these folks need some help, too.

Today I went home. 40 years ago I lived in Marysville, Ohio. I haven't been back there since I was 16. It's hard to look back on a place where you had a family that is now gone. To see it through the eyes of an adult. To wish you could go back and warn the little girl, who lived there, to love her parents more and to cherish each moment because they don't last forever.

I saw the Nestlè plant where my Father worked. I saw the garage where I stood with my Mother, across the street, waiting to pick my dad up during a bad thunderstorm. There was a big oak tree across the street. It got hit by lightning and the tree top exploded. The tree is long gone, but I remember it.

Near the old entrance to Nestlè where we waiting for my Father. To the right in the grass, was where the huge tree stood.

I saw my old house. 911 Sherwood Avenue. I got very choked up seeing it. I didn't expect that. The house is almost exactly the same. The color is a bit different. The tree out front is huge, but other than that, it's still a nice house in a nice, if a bit tired neighborhood. I remember riding my bike and running between the houses. I had no idea what would come to pass. Now I can't help but think, this will probably be the last time I ever go to Marysville. I will go on with my life knowing the house is still there, but the family that was my true treasure is long gone now and seeing it again was a grim reminder.

Home.

My God life is short.

Note: I had fully intended on writing about Blog Paws tonight since I've met so many nice people and want them to all love my blog should they stop by to visit it...but the events of the day wore too heavily on my heart and I just had to write about them. I hope you understand and check back tomorrow. I have my big 10 MINUTE presentation to give in the morning and a story to go with it (hopefully not one of being heckled or booed or forgetting what I was supposed to talk about!)

There's nothing like the excitement of packing up and going on a road trip with your beloved. The promise of the open road. Leaving your troubles behind you. The enjoyment of discovering more about the world around you, and yourself, while you're at it.

And...there's nothing like the threat of not going on the trip at all, just when you've finished packing and you need to load the car. But wait, first you must have a HUGE, blowout fight over the fact that you're stressed and short-tempered (because you don't want to leave late) and not being very nice. Okay. Let's have a big fight for two hours, so we can be certain to leave as LATE as possible, so the 660 mile drive will end around 12:30AM instead of 7PM! Great.

There's nothing like battling through CT, NY & NJ, followed by an endless drive across Pennsylvania. I swear that state GROWS while you drive it. All the up and down, curvy roads, the rain, the truckers who tailgate and the insane f-cker who almost hit us.

Yet, somehow, with all this, there's nothing like being able to find a way to work it out, to get over your petty/not-so-petty-but-you-don't-want-to-admit-it crap and attend to the task at hand. You make the 660 mile drive. You get to the hotel late. You eat a cold sandwich and pass out cold on the big, cat-less bed. You wake up to a new day, full of possibilities.

You awake to the purr of a garbage truck dumping something outside your window. You might be fearful that the shit storm is going to happen all over again, but you have that hope that today will be different. Today will be different! And if not, the trip was already worth it.

We made one stop yesterday, other than bathroom breaks. I scored a really cool 1950's lamp for my living room at the Atomic Warehouse, so that's good, right?

More from BlogPaws, life in Columbus, Ohio and The Sam & Robin Smackdown Show, soon!

Bags are packed. My first time leaving the cats alone in over two years. I have a great pet sitter, who is also a Vet Tech coming twice a day, but I know that all the hours between those two visits will give the little jerks plenty of time to destroy the house with their vengeful bladders and angry claws.

I've shut off my bedroom and a few other areas. Am hoping that allowing them access to my office, which is the prime afternoon napping location, will appease them. I fear I will find a spray coating of whiz on my keyboard, but so be it. It's only “stuff,” right?

I'm looking forward to having a break. I guess I just wonder what the price is going to be. I suppose it's not a good thing that I am bound to this place by cats. I thought I was the boss? How dumb am I? Don't answer that!

With any luck, I'll be blogging from BlogPaws with updates and pix from lovely Ohio and points in between.

The road is calling me...better get going.

Your fearful hostess,

Robin

If I could send all of you a bouquet and a Thank You note for putting up with all my worrying and crying about the “Santa's Team” rescue, I would. I really appreciate all the support you all give me. I am completely undeserving and humbled. I'm just a regular “schmoe” just trying to make a difference in a few cats lives. You make me feel like a shiny star.

Along the way, I had no idea I'd find there are so many caring and compassionate people out there who are generous and willing to share their heart and affection with me. I am so honored.

I made the call last night at 5:25pm and spoke with the adopter. I was so nervous, that I ended up just reading off my typed up script. I got to the point of asking to return the cats and I heard the adopter telling his wife “she wants the cats back.” After that point, there wasn't much more to add. I offered to return their adoption fee and to waive any future fees if they wanted to adopt more healthy cats, since it is not our policy to adopt out sick cats in the first place. The adopter said he would call me back.

So I waited.

I didn't let the phone out of my sight. I even did things, thinking it would make the phone ring. Back “in the day” we used to light up a ciggy at a restaurant to make the waiter appear with our food. Nothing helped. The phone didn't ring. I checked my email over and over. Nothing but emails from friends concerned about what was going on.

I tried to second guess what would happen. I tried to be positive that I would get the cats back, though the more time passed, the more I felt it was unlikely that I would get the result I was hoping for.

I went to bed. Little Blitzen sleeps between us now, right next to my pillow. His purr is so loud it fills the room. Spencer and Nicky were at the foot of the bed. While there wasn't much room for us, it was comforting to be surrounded by them. I passed another restless night, wondering if the phone was ever going to ring.

This morning, just about 10:00 am, I got an email. It was a long, clearly written statement, point by point going over the reason why the family was not willing to return the kittens to The Animal Center at this time. It was obvious from what was said that even though I did not say ANYTHING even close to suggesting that the family was neglecting or harming the kittens, that indeed, that's how they heard what I said. As I read their points, it was clear that they are determined to provide an excellent home for the cats. Perhaps my asking for the cats back, caused them to take notice that they DO need more than they are being provided?

Instead of getting into an email war, I called the adopter. If yesterday was tough, today was worse. I told him right off the bat that my request was in no way directed to them, as a family, and that if nothing else, I wanted him to understand that this is about my making a mistake, not what they are doing (unless they let them outdoors!). After that I could tell that any stress or animosity between us was gone. I told him that while I respected his decision that I would still like to request that he make a few small changes. He was willing to listen, so I asked him to move the cat bowls away from the cat litter, to make sure Donner goes to the Vet to be checked out and that if it wasn't being too pushy, that I had some toys for the cats that I wanted to drop off.

He thanked me for the suggestions and welcomed me to stop by and drop off the toys. He said he wanted to keep an open line of communication and I offered to be of any help at any time he needs it.

Considering how badly this could have gone, starting up some sort of legal trouble or very bad blood, it was a small success. I didn't get the kittens back, but I do feel a bit better that they are going to get better care. I will also know that they'll have a lot more toys and a cardboard scratching pad and I have to be okay with that. I'll drop those things off later today.

I shed more tears after I got off the phone, but it's done now. I did as much as I could. I made my points clear with them and I heard their concerns and got assurances that they would be taking great care of the cats. I also got permission from my Director to do home visits, as I deem necessary. I believe this will help me a lot moving forward. It just won't do much to stop me from looking back on this with regret and some embarrassment or shame over my own stupidity.

Donner and Me. Taken before she was adopted (©2010 photo by Ryan Feminella).

In the end, I can't say there was a clear winner or loser or if that even matters. It's all about the cats-always. If this family is determined to provide a good home for the kittens, that's all I can ask. Maybe having their reassurance is enough? Okay, that and moving the litter pan away from the food bowls!

I spoke with my Director and she supports me moving forward however I see fit. The problem for me is that I have to do this and of course I do. I can't ask others to do something difficult for me or on my behalf. I made this poor choice and I have one last shot at finding a way to convince these adopters to give Donner and Dancer back to me so I can re-home them.

©2010 Ryan C. Feminella

This photo was taken on Friday. It's the only photo I have of Donner's face. She looks so sad. I hate seeing her wear a collar. In another photo I can see her food bowls right next to her litter pan!!!!! Not good.

My only hope is that I can find the right words to say that do not insult this family, but help them understand that I made a mistake placing the cats with them and that in the cats best interest, they should be returned to me.

The one tiny thing that could help is that I noticed, it looks like Donner has ringworm on her head!!! Though these folks were not bothered by ringworm cropping up, this does give me a reason to contact them and hopefully reinforce that these cats NEED better care and Donner must get to the Vet, if nothing else.

There's little else I can do. Legally, I can't force them to do anything. I won't lie to them. I have to just appeal to them and hope they will find a way to forgive me for causing them any distress and to understand that people make mistakes and maybe they will let me take the cats back? It's a long shot, but it's my last hope.

I will risk getting called all sorts of names, humiliate myself, whatever I have to do. Maybe it will work? I hope I find the perfect words to say to convince them. If I can't, I have to find a way to live with this.

I don't know how I will.

I knew today would be tough. Donner and Dancer were slated to be adopted together. I was somewhat prepared to let them go, knowing they were going to a good home. Sure, I would cry, but they need to be with a new family who will love them always.

Little Donner. ©2010 Ryan Feminella

A few minutes before the adopters arrived, I noticed that Dancer had a bald patch on her leg-surely not today...no...not RINGWORM again?!!! I began to worry that if Dancer had to stay behind, then Donner would go alone and I could not allow that. Donner is far too social of a cat to be without the company of another cat. This family had no other pets. In fact, it's been so long that they had anything other than fish, they had no Vet reference. I was willing to overlook that because they would not let the cats outdoors, not declaw them and were certainly willing to feed them a grain free canned food diet-maybe even raw. They were going to take the kittens to my own Vet, too. So maybe it would be okay?

Then the family arrived. All six of them. The youngest was 11 and the oldest child is in college. I felt like it would be too much for Dancer to handle and the poor cat freaked out. She showed terribly and if Donner hadn't been so fantastic, I doubt they would have adopted the kittens. My heart began to sink. I just thought that maybe it was too much. That how could I adopt to people with no Vet reference? They didn't seem to be madly in love with the kittens. Maybe something was wrong. I can't say exactly why, but I started to feel that maybe this was not a good idea...but it was too late.

Dancer looking lovely as ever. ©2010 Ryan Feminella

I tried to talk them out of the adoption-offering them first pick of the next litter due in a month or so. They said they had been looking for a long time and that they were sure these were the right kittens. The eldest daughter said she knew the kittens needed time and that it would be all right for them, but I kept hoping they would change their minds-even after knowing that Dancer probably had ringworm.

My sweet muffin, Donner. ©2010 Robin Olson

Apparently, the two youngest boys do wrestling in school and perked up when I mentioned ringworm. One of them casually replied; “ Oh yeah, if a kid gets ringworm, he can't wrestle. It happens all the time!” Yikes! Their stepmom looked worried about it, but they all assured her it was not a big deal.

I called Dr. Larry and made them an appointment for the kittens. At least I know they will, hopefully, continue to use him as their Vet and that way I'll get some updates on how they're doing. I offered to pay for the visit, since Dancer will need medications and a DTM. I should have kept her here for another 30 days, but the adopters wanted her today. There was just no keeping them here. The giant band-aid had to come off and boy did it hurt.

I'm very thankful that Jennifer called me while I was writing this post. I cried for the better part of an hour after everyone left. Sam comforted me as best he could, but somehow it wasn't until Jennifer talked to me-my comrade in mourning-that things didn't feel quite so painful. She smartly reminded me of another adoption I did last year. I was SO sure it was the PERFECT family for my one little kitten. They were going to dote on her and they had a big McMansion, etc...

Then, Jennifer and I paid them a visit. Once there we both got the creeps, very bad creeps. These folks wanted to adopt another kitten from me and I kept putting them off-for MONTHS. I was sure they were not great adopters and I had wished I hadn't adopted to them at all. Jennifer reminded me that where I thought these guys were perfect, they were lacking. That the adopted kitten should be all right, but no more should go to this home-ever. That perhaps, the people who adopted from me today, might not appear to be that great on paper, but may, in the end, turn out to provide a big, loving home, for two cats who have carved a place in my heart, forever.