What to Do...

Oh, great. Now what am I going to do?

I spent all weekend talking to Zachary about how important it was for us to continue our role as "foster" cat people. To take in cats and then when a good home was found, to send them out.

Our two rescued cats are 15. They were in a shelter, miserable, listless, not eating or drinking. They hung limp when you picked them up.

As you can see, progress has been made.

When you get an older animal, you have no idea what they like to eat, what their habits are, good or bad. Having to syringe feed both water and chicken broth until they finally started to show some interest in life again was difficult and rewarding.

Last week, I woke up to Charlotte Rose sitting on my chest with the above pictured toy mouse. She wanted to play fetch.

The other cat, Darcy, who we call Fatty Kitty because Darcy just does not fit her personality to date, hides most of the day. She comes out at night to snuggle with the dog and to yowl for sliced turkey.

Not cat food. Not even wet cat food. Sliced turkey, please, and GET IT NOW.

I don't have a picture of her because she's rather camera shy.

Charlotte is like a dog, she follows me around most the day. Fatty is... well... fat and purrs so loud you can hear her across the room.

After I finally talked Zachary into giving up these cats, as he has been the one to really help me with them, I walked into my bedroom today to find Charlotte like this. While Fatty hides in the basement, Charlotte crawls under the covers. But to find her with the mouse...

Who is going to explain to ME that it's best to move these cats along to a new home?