You may remember that over the summer, I fell in love with this little sweetie at an adoption event?
A week ago, we re-homed her with a woman we met through MIL. She was ready to love a new kitty and we were ready to let her go.
Okay, I wasn’t really ready to let her go so much as I was ready to free myself from the guilt of her self-segregation. She’s such a beauty, but she’s also a love-bug. She’s just a furry bundle of purring, nuzzling, tail-shakin love.
She’d come down the back hallway for treats, or even venture into the kitchen for food now and again. But as soon as she finished, she ran off to solitary. And although she chose this, it wasn’t the same as when my other cats go off to hide and nap. She wasn’t choosing it because she wanted to do normal cat stuff; she was choosing it out of fear. She simply did not like the other cats. She’d growl and retreat even when they seemed not to notice her.
I hated that she chose to be alone in our room, or alone in the laundry room. I hated that I had to lock up all the other pets to have a brief couch snuggle with her. It made me weepy. I felt guilty and angry too often. I know Dr. S said she was happy enough, and I want to believe him. But I don’t think she was as happy as every beloved pet deserves to be. Better than the shelter? Absolutely. Best scenario? Not even close.
So when MIL mentioned her friend Kay had been thinking about adopting a new cat, I asked her to set up a point of contact, so I could introduce her to Como.
Kay had a cat before, and like many of us, she was so heartbroken, she didn’t think she’d want another one again. But time heals. Kay has no other animals. At Kay’s house, Como is the feline queen. She can own the entire house, demand all the attention, and thrive in happiness.
When I go into the laundry room, I’m still sad not to see her perched on the dryer, but I have to believe I fell in love with her for a reason, even if that reason turned out to be that of playing the middle man.
Have you ever had to re-home or surrender an animal?