Sunday, August 2, 2009

Kids and Pets

A couple of weeks ago, I was visiting a friend's house, with my 5-year-old fabulous boy in tow. He had a blast playing with her boxer puppy and taking Polaroid photos around the house. So as we were walking home with said friend and said friend's dog, we heard a loud (LOUD!) cat's meowing coming from nearby. We looked around and found a sweet black and white kitty stuck up a tree -- it was just after the 4th, and there were fireworks going off nearby, which probably scared her up there in the first place.

Without thinking twice, I jumped onto a nearby chain link fence and climbed it. Then, I swung over to the tree and climbed that, and got the kitty in my hands. I passed her down to my friend (my son was holding my purse for me), and leaped clear from the fence -- it was that kind of chain link that has sharp edges at the top (in case I was trying to break into the house rather than just steal a kitty from a tree).

So I land on the pavement, cutting up my hands on the gravel and broken glass, and my fabulous boy says to me: "Mommy, you're like a kitty superhero!!!!"

Yes, folks. That was me. A Kitty Superhero.

So after that, upon discovering that she was skinny and didn't have a collar and wasn't spayed, I proceeded to take her home to my small apartment and my two other cats. I got her shots and had her spayed. I kept her separated from my cats, because they couldn't get along. I snuggled her, let her sleep with me, and generally loved her up for three weeks while waiting to find her a good home. And my son named her Snowdrop -- he's developing a sense of irony, apparently.

And finally I found a home for her! I asked a co-worker if she wanted a cat, and she said yes. We did the exchange yesterday, and my two little spoiled fluffballs seem all the happier for it.

But my son, after saying goodbye very sweetly and giving her a final pet, went over to the couch, sat down, and buried his head in a pillow. I went over and put my hand on his back, and he started to cry these awful, heartfelt miserable sobs that made me flashback to when I had to give up my childhood puppy of six months because my mother just couldn't deal with a dog in the house.

At any rate, FB came around and realized that kitty would have a much better home than she would have without our intervention. And I realized that I can't possibly rescue every stray cat I come across--but that when I'm faced with dire need, I will do what I can to help out.

If you would like to do what you can, you can help out by a) spaying or neutering your pets, and/or b) donating to your nearest no-kill animal shelter or pet rescue. Just google it, folks, and five gazillion hits will come up, complete with reviews.

If you feel like being social and fancy about it, there's the annual Fur Ball to benefit the Morris Animal Refuge in Philly. While I wish the organization was a no-kill shelter, they do good work in rescuing and finding good homes for abused, neglected, or abandoned animals. And you get to dress up!

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