Heather Ainsley
ECB Publishing, Inc.
Back in May of 2022, I published a column titled “You've got to be kitten me!” In this article, I announced the arrival of my latest foster, Todd, and the amusing story of how he came to me. It involved a phone call after midnight, local law enforcement, a briar bush, and a tiny, flea-infested feline who had a lot to say.
Ordinarily, my fosters remain with me just until they are healthy or socialized, and then move on to their new home, or the next step in the adoption process towards their new home. Very rarely does a foster remain with me for longer than that, the process usually taking three months or less. Often less. The 2022 “kitten season” was very overwhelming, however, and, as those who follow my columns may recall, Todd was soon joined by yet another foster, a younger kitten we named Mouse, who incidentally also came to us by way of a late phone call and local law enforcement.
Usually, after completing their vetting my feline fosters go to a trusted and reputable adoption facility in Tallahassee, called the Fat Cat Cafe, which is owned by a woman I respect immensely and volunteered for years ago. Adoptable cats get socialization, cuddles and endless playtime in a clean, safe, cafe lounge setting. Patrons come, pay a small fee, and enjoy quality time with the cats and kittens there as they read or enjoy coffee or snacks. If they fall in love with a specific cat, they can fill out an adoption application. If the application is approved, and the home is deemed suitable for the cat or kitten, then they can go right away to their new homes. The Cafe works alongside local rescues, and due to the sheer number of kittens in need, my fosters last year were placed on a waiting list.
As I mentioned before, my fosters usually remain with me for about a month, not usually more than three months, before I either find them a home myself, or partner with an adoption facility like the Fat Cat Cafe. Todd and Mouse stayed with me for nearly eight months before the Cafe could get them moved in. And, as much as I know better, I got attached to them in those months.
Mind you, this is not my first rodeo. I've rescued, fostered and found homes for dozens of kittens and cats in my 12 years of “adulthood.” The first kitten I ever rescued was the only foster I kept. Her name is Kiki and she lives with me to this day. I've always been able to love them and let them go, with an understanding that my home (and my heart) is merely a stepping stone along the road for them.
On Jan. 7, I got the call from Michelle (the owner of the Cafe), and was told the good news. The Cafe had just had a few adoptions, and had some room open up for new intakes! The kittens could move in to the cafe, and start the next chapter of their lives.
To tell you my heart broke would be a cliché. But my heart broke. I never expected to love them as much as I did. I didn't mean for this to happen, but somehow, here I was, attached to two kittens that did not belong to me. True to my promise to these adorable fosters, I brought them to the cafe, and helped them settle in. I cried all the way home. I couldn't bear the thought that they wouldn't understand what was happening. Why I had left them.
To compromise with our aching hearts, Ben and I, against our better judgement, made an agreement: we would visit them often, and if they didn't thrive there, and were not adopted by May of this year, we would go to the cafe, pick them up, and take them home for good.
This failsafe lessened the sting of saying goodbye. They would be given a chance to be seen for the amazing cats that they are, and find homes that would adore them for their whole lives. In the worst case scenario, they would come back to a place that already felt like home to them. We didn't know how we would reconcile the lack of space, as our home is not big and we already have several of our own animals, but we figured we would find a way. It would likely put an end to our kitten rescuing days, as we would be permanently above our max.
Over the last three weeks, we have visited them as often as we could, stopping in to greet them and give them cuddles and play time. Each time, they come running when they hear us call their names, Todd especially meowing loudly, as if telling us of his week. These visits always fill my heart with comfort, as we can see them slowly adapt to their new surroundings. It also makes it hard to leave. But they deserve a chance to find good homes.
Yesterday, I messaged the Cafe, asking how the kittens were doing, and letting them know that we are planning to come in for another visit with the kittens in the next few days. To my surprise, I was informed that Todd got adopted last week! It must have been just after our last visit. I was also informed that Mouse was reportedly doing great. I'll still visit her, and my deal still stands about May, but this news reminded me of why it was so important that I give them this chance.
It can be so hard to let go. It can be so painful to take a chance and leave things to fates outside of your control. To take a step back, when all you want to do is cling to a situation, convinced that you're the only one who can handle it. It is easy to fall into the feeling that it has to be you.
Even when you know that some things are the best course of action, it can be difficult to stay that course, because it is hard to trust that things will ever actually come full-circle. I knew the kittens were safe with me, that they'd be loved. It is hard to let them go, without a guarantee that they'll be taken care of by someone else who will love them like I have loved them.
But that's just it. Todd captured someone else's heart just as easily as he did mine. His huge amber eyes and insistent snuggles have caused some perfect stranger to fall in love with him, and to take him home. It was never about me. It was always about the cats, and if they could make this rescuer ditch her rules and fall in love, what chance does anyone else have at resisting their charms, truly?
I will never forget these two special fosters, and the impact they have made on my heart. And while my deal still stands about Mouse come May, I sincerely hope that she, too, finds a home that loves her. I hope she forgets all about me. I hope they both do. I hope that they live long, happy lives, and forget their difficult beginnings.
I helped them forget about losing their mothers. I chased away their loneliness with soft blankets and feathered toys, warm cuddles and crunchy treats. I soothed their aching orphan hearts until they forgot all about their previous life with their mothers. And now, all I hope for is that someone else fills their lives, and makes them so happy that they forget all about me. May they forget greeting me each morning at the top of the stairs. The sound of the treat jar. The cuddle piles of all five cats and two dogs for movie nights. The forehead nuzzles and laser play. From that night in the he briar bush, the side of the road, the flea baths at 3 a.m. and all the love and care that followed. Those memories are mine now. I hope they don't miss me, and that they get to forget. They are just kittens, after all, and one of us is bound to forget. All I know is that it won't be me.