How I Became a Foster (Cat) Parent

I wanted a cat.

I grew up with a cat, her name was Smokey, and she was pretty awesome. I wanted a black cat because I was pretty sure I was going to be some type of witch and at 7-years-old, that means a black cat. My Mom called around to all the stores and finally found one a good distance away. When we arrived, I pointed to the one I wanted - the runt of the litter, a gray one with white paws.

My mom doesn't remember how long she was in labor with me, but, she remembers exactly how may hours, calls and miles she had to endure to find me a black cat only to have me pick a grey-and-white one.

For 20 years, Smokey was my cat.

Fast-forward to 2011 (I have no concept of time, so, this is a rough estimate), I saw a rescue had set up shop in the local pet store chain - which will remain unnamed due to their current unfair and unsafe adoption requirements so we'll just call it what it is...PetSmart - and I saw this black cat name Forrest. I was able to go into the back and play with him for a minute or two. Then I put in an application.

I get an email about a day later from this lady, Pat, saying Forrest had already been adopted but there were other available black cats needing homes.

I wrote back that I wasn't really taken with black cats specifically. I wrote that I was a single person living alone, I worked 50-60 hours a week, I had a one bedroom apartment and maybe if they had something without a tail or that stunk...a cat missing an eye or who hated everyone...maybe a cat who had some problems or was close to being put down...that's the cat I wanted.

I got a reply - oddly enough - asking if I would take a cat with Feline Leukemia (FeLuk). Feline Leukemia is a retrovirus in cats that remained largely dormant. The problem was when it comes out, it crashes the bone marrow and once your bone marrow died, you can't make red blood cells, so you die.

Maddie: well...how long was the death? Is this a long-term thing?
Pat: Hours maybe a day.
Maddie: How expensive is it?
Pat: Well, the rescue will cover all the medical costs. The cat will remain the rescue's cat, not really your cat...

...

...

Maddie:...Sign me up!

And then I went to this huge house to pick up the cat I wanted. I had the option of three:

• Lucy, a calico. She was the carrier of the FeLuk, she infected them all.
• Macadamia, a talker. He was petite. 
• Almond: A mostly white cat who hung out with Lucy. Almond was Macadamia's full brother.

Pat mentioned that the rescue would cover 100% of the food costs. But, even though I was a pretty low-salary type person, I couldn't take money for FOOD for an animal in my care.

I picked Macadamia. This boy-cat was laying on a bed in a spare bedroom with it's own bathroom, complete with claw-foot bathtub, and spiral staircase to some type of loft. It was bigger than my whole apartment, I swear.

Quietly, I whispered, "My place will be a step down from this, little guy."

Macadamia yawned. So, I felt a pact had been made.

Back at my much smaller one-bedroom (ok, plus den) apartment, this little cat curled right up with me and we watched TV. I was in motherfu*king love. The next day, however, I found it hard to call this little guy "Macadamia." That was such a BIG name. He was such a little guy who liked to meow and sleep.

So I named him Charlie. He was totally a Charlie. 

Charlie nuzzled with me every night - and meowed on Friday and Saturday nights when I did not go to bed at the right time. He didn't play, really. He just wanted to snuggle and be cute. 

It worked out for me because I am not cute and I also wanted to sleep. It was 2011, I was still in treatment for various blood borne illnesses and sleeping a lot. 

Then, one day, he wasn't feeling so good. I remember he wasn't eating. I remember I warmed up some food because warm, stinky food is best and little Charlie burned his mouth.

I died on the inside when he squeaked in pain. He had so willing dived into the food I over-heated. I died on the inside.

I could not apologize or love on him enough. I still feel horrible and I can still see his little body shoot back from the too-hot food with a little meow cry. OMG. Died.

He wasn't doing any better for all my nurturing and I went to the vet! I had to drop him off and then come back later to get him because of my new job and I didn't know how "pet friendly" they were. If I had to drop off a child, it would be cool. Not an animal. Not even an animal near death.

When I returned to the vet after work, the vet brought out his carrier and a vial of blood. Well, not a lot of blood. Just a little blood. He told me, the cat had almost no blood. The FeLuk was destroying him from the inside. Charlie was laying on the blanket in the carrier and weakly lifted his head to silently meow at me.

I was on the phone with Pat from the rescue. I was not sure I could care for Charlie. At that moment, I didn't know if I was the best person for him. I didn't know how to deal with sick animals. I didn't know what treatment he would need. I didn't know if I could make him safe and comfortable and happy. I was pretty sure I had done so many things wrong with him and he needed someone who could do something right for him.

Pat: I think he will be better with you, but, I can take him. I can do whatever you want

And Charlie got up from the back of the carry, from the folds of the bedding, put his head in my hand with a little meow and died.

The flurry of activity was me saying, "I think he died" and hanging up the phone and yelling for the nurse to come. He grabbed Charlie's limp body and took him to the exam room and touched his eyeball. 

I guess if you aren't dead, that'll wake you up.

He listened for a heartbeat, he checked for respiration. Charlie was confirmed dead. 

Pat: Oh, Amanda, I am so sorry! I know he was really sick, I think he was just holding on and waiting for you.

Charlie was fighting against death for me? Maybe? He wanted me to be there? He wanted me to witness his death, to hold him, to comfort him. I might have failed in everything with that little cat but I meant safety and love and cuddles to him. He used the last little bit of his strength to lay his head in my hand. 

We are ALL going to die, who would you choose to be with? Surrounded by strangers? Alone? Or in the arms of someone who you loved? 

Charlie loved me. He felt love from me. I loved Charlie. 

And it hit me. Holy f**k, there are terminally ill beings out there who die alone, unloved - with no choice but to die alone and unloved?

No one could have done this better. No one could do this job of animal husbandry better than me.

I thought about it for about 24 hours. Then I waited about 48 hours because I didn't know if it would be odd to the outside world that I needed another FeLuk

Maddie: Hey, Pat. Do you still have Charlie's brother? I think I'd like to take him, if that's ok?

Pat: Why don't you take both Almond and Lucy? Two cats are the same amount of work as one and they both need homes.

Maddie: Cool. :)

So, I mean, I knew early on Pat had this gift of, like, scamming and pushing cats on unsuspecting people and thusly making everyone's lives better. That's how rescue works. It's not about what you want or think and that's why everyone's life is suddenly better.

And that is how I got into the world of fostering, with a concentration in fostering cats with FeLuk. Life is unfair and sucks and is heartbreaking but between those moments and in those moments, there is love.

Refusing to love a life because part of that life might suck seems stupid to me.