Getting back to writing

Wow, life's been hectic now back at home and I just realised how long it's been since my last post. I am genuinely wondering how I went about my life with six cats to care for when there even seems too much to do now with none. I guess when you're caring for the little critters, you automatically care about them more than the trivial little things in life (like keeping the surfaces tidy, using in-date milk and paying the electricity bill).

I see Oscar and Tilly are still listed on the TCR website and therefore still in their foster home. I wonder how they coped with losing their mom. Just the thought of it is so saddening, even if cats don't attach as much emotion to this kind of thing as humans. I think I'd be in tears if I had to look after those poor orphans. And I think I was lucky with my bunch. It was difficult enough coping with the death of Celia even though she was no longer in my care: I don't know how I'd have felt if I did lose one while he/she was with me.

I feel like I appreciate the fragility of life a bit more having just read about little Destiny's fate on Beth's blog. It makes me think back to Rosey and how close we'd been to losing him. I cannot believe what a little fighter he was and how far he's come from being a snotty little furball who wouldn't stop screaming to an athletic little tiger who only ever wants to poop on the floor. I feel like throwing caution to the wind and just letting the little guy poop wherever he bloody well likes in appreciation of the fact that he just kept on going in times of adversity. Unfortunately he's my mum's responsibility now and she tells me it's not much fun cleaning up poop from the floor every day, especially in the heat of summer. I actually do know how she feels and have had my fair share of it, thank you very much. Other than that, Rosey's being totally, totally spoilt with fresh meat, which he loves so much that he gobbles it down and starts on Mini-Cat's bowl within seconds. No wonder him and Matt got on so well.

As an aside, I was alarmed to notice a strange name on Rosey's medicine bottle from the vet when I visited at the weekend - "Tigger". Having questioned my mum, she shiftily revealed that when being pressed for a name at the vet the first time, she felt embarrassed for Rosey about giving the vet a girl's name for him, so she hastily opted for "Tigger". Uh, now all we have to do is change Mini's name to "Winnie" and rename Tiddles "Christopher Robin" and we're all set for a remake of the children's classis Winnie The Pooh. Well, she claimed she gave that name because he looks like a tiger and wasn't in fact aware of his cartoon namesake, but I'm not so sure. There's nothing wrong with the name, as such, but it's such an obvious name for a tabby cat and I don't like obvious. And I also cannot believe they rebuffed my suggestion of "Dexter" (I've been enjoying series 1 and 2 and was inevitably inspired) and then went and did this. Anyway, luckily neither names stuck and my handsome little stripy prince continues to be called Rosey, although his silly little head doesn't in fact seem to respond to anything you call him.

Going their separate ways

As the day's worn on, I've been feeling more and more melancholy. Rosey and Mini Cat are now in their forever home at my mum's and spent the past two nights chasing each other round my bed whilst I tried to sleep before curling up next to me, a luxury they didn't get the opportunity to enjoy while they were in Toronto with me.

I made my way back home tonight to a cheerless apartment containing Matt and the three remaining cats: Celia, Oscar and Tilly. Elliot went to his new home a couple of nights ago where he's getting used to his new name: Spyro. The sombre feeling here is down to the fact that this whole thing is over now. Tomorrow morning a driver is picking Celia, Oscar and Tilly up and taking them to the vet to have them neutered/spayed. After that they will recover at a Toronto Cat Rescue worker's home before going to their new foster home.

In a few days' time I will inevitably be occupying my mind with plenty of other things during my time away, but right now it feels like I've lost something. It's like I feel sad for everything. I feel sad for Rosey and Mini Cat because I won't see them often, I feel sorry for Elliot because he's having to adjust to a new home, I feel sorry for Oscar because he doesn't even know how much we want to adopt him but can't, I feel sorry for Tilly because it's like we've left her at the bottom of the pile of her litter and I feel sorry for Celia because she's striving to find someone to love her permanently but, realistically, the chances of that happening any time soon aren't great. I also feel sad for TCR for having to move these cats about and for struggling to keep their charity financially afloat and I feel sorry for Matt for having had this little cat family forced on him in the beginning, only to have fallen in love with them and suffer the heartache of never seeing [most of] them again. And yes, I admit it, I feel sad for me too. Sad and guilty, as if I could have done more.

Well, I guess it's the end of this particular journey but I don't feel it's anywhere near time to disconnect from it all. I'll try to stay in touch with as many of the kittens are possible, their new homes permitting, and will of course follow the course of Mini Cat and Rosey growing up at my mum's. I have also offered to do fostering for cats whose foster families go away on vacation at times when I'm back home here, at least until my schedule is a bit freer some time next year. I also want to help TCR raise some money, so I am going to have a good think about ways in which I can do that. I want to paint some paintings for them to sell at events later on in the year, so I guess I might as well start gathering some catty inspiration.

And so with a sigh of resignation tinged with quiet optimism, I'm going to bed. My heavy heart would be lifted if only Celia, Oscar and Tilly could sleep in our room tonight, if it wasn't for the Godforsaken tomato plant that lives there (and, to add insult to injury, hasn't even had the decency to sprout more than two feeble pea-sized fruit over the last two months).

I think I'm going to compile some nice photos to post soon of the past three months.