As you know, last week I went to the shelter and sprang Ms. Slupe out of there. In the car, I felt like we were Thelma and Louise getting the heck out of dodge.
Poor kid had been there two stinken years. Can you imagine living in that room for two years without a break? No birthday or Christmas. No vacation. Not even a staycation. Every single day and night dealing with new cats and sometimes kittens. Wondering who might stalk you. Who might annoy you. Who might nip you on the tush. Who will kick you off the cat tree, out of the litter box, or away from the food bowl. Listening to dogs bark on the other side of the wall 24/7. Seeing and hearing the sad stories of other cats. Never being able to put down your guard and just stretch out and put up a leg and lick yourself leisurely.
Slupe had a reputation at the shelter. Not a bad one. But not a good one either. Slupe kind of faded into the background, got holes in her fur (from stress), shrank from touch or occasionally nipped if someone persisted. She resisted going in a carrier. She wasn’t a candidate for PetSmart adoptions.
But she and I clicked, and I knew she was a very very sensitive soul. It got so that even though I still have Kana/Tiger troubles I couldn’t let her stay at the shelter a day longer. Who knows when some new cat would bring in a disease or ringworm and Slupe would have to go back into ISO until she was better (ISO is way worse than living in the roaming room). Without the ability to go to PetSmart and without a personality that would garner attention from visiting potential adopters, Slupe was doomed to stay much longer than two years.
So she’s here now. I have no idea what the future holds for any of us, but she is reveling in the peaceful sanctuary of her new bedroom. From the moment I opened the carrier to let her out, she has been the sweetest, gentlest, most loving and curious cat!!! Everything I wrote in paragraph three is all wrong: that isn’t Slupe. That was living in the shelter for two years. This is Slupe.
Slupe has the radio, a CD of birdsongs and one of whale music, and then I let her listen to my daughter singing on my iPhone. She was amused at her version of “The More You Ruv Someone” from Avenue Q, but when my daughter’s “Different Drum” (the same one Linda Ronstadt sang) came on, she came right up to the cell phone and almost lay down on top of it so she could listen up close. Later, I repeated the song, and she was mesmerized all over again.
I’m not surprised. I like it, too, and Slupe is my buddy.
So let me tell you what my mother said. Heh. “I’m not sure I’m going to tell anybody you got a 5th cat. It’s been hard enough to tell them you have four cats.” Bahahahaha. Yup, that’s Mom. Her way of telling me I’m a crazy cat lady, and that it matters what her friends think.
The jury is still out on whether I did something really stupid or if this will all work out. I was glad that hubby was game to help her, too.