rescue – Siriously Siri

The papers I carried with me were longer than my tail. Descended from Seti I and Queen Tuya, well known by all, I sauntered into the Rescue Center waving my heritage high like an American Flag. Yeah, I know, they say there’s no such thing as finding a purebred in Rescue, but I was hell bent on disproving that theory.

The Director held open the door. You’re in Bank 2, Row 1, Cage 3. Need a paw up?

I looked at her disdainfully. Any Meezer with my family’s history of long lanky legs certainly didn’t need any help hopping up to a higher place. After all, we came from a higher place and responded to a higher calling. We were, after all, very Royal meezers.

The door clanged shut behind me. “Ummm, excuse me. HelloOOOO out there!!! Get back here please! Someone has slept in this Millie bed previously – I can smell them! Look, I’m paying good money for this place! I’d like some CLEAN bedding please!”

“It’s allllllright. Now quiet down. Dinner is at 5, breakfast at 7. Group playtime during the day, if you play nicely, evenings are individual cage time. It’s evening now, so get some shut eye, big day tomorrow when you’ll see the other cats.” And with that, she exited the room, scrubs swishing gently.

“Huh? Hey, bud, how do I request my chicken liver? There is room service in this third class hotel, right?” I extended my paw as far as I could through the cage bars and waived it in the direction of my neighbor.

“Yea right,” said Reuben. “Hear that Rosie? This guy thinks he’s going to get chicken liver. Geez. What do you think this is, the Ritz?”

“Well I did request first class accommodations from my reservationist. I’m sure there’s some mistake. Let me show you my papers, and you’ll see what I mean….”

“Aaaah, don’t bother chump. Don’t matter none anywho. You’re walking on the dark side here. Now if you don’t mind, time for some shut eye.” And with that, I heard a thunk followed by some fairly snarfly breathing sounds.

Hmmmph. This place had a lot to learn about royalty. Obviously I had my work cut out for me.

After a long night on what turned out to be a quite comfortable bed (despite having to keep my nose in a wrinkle so I didn’t smell the rugrats), I was awakened by the sounds of breakfast. Aha, here we go, I thought, here comes the Sevruga. “Oh dear, I’m sorry, that’s not what I ordered. And where’s my crystal dish? Everyone knows that the Setis only eat from the finest crystal. Would you have a word with the chef please and let him know that Ramesses is asking?” And Reuben, what is it with you and the snortling? For goodness sakes blow your nose, you sound like a complete inbred, it’s disgusting.”

“Listen, Prince Here & There,” snarfled Reuben. “You’re obviously got a thing or two to learn about Rescue. Your fancy diploma won’t do you any good here. We’re all in the same boat – left a bad situation and looking for a better one. Take Rosie for instance. Can’t look a human bean in the eye without breaking out in hives. Highly allergic to most of them, forced to leave her family because they were so irritating. And then there’s Phoebe. Lived in a family with tiny beans who had no idea how to use the litterbox and messed themselves all the time. What a stink, completely unacceptable for those of us who like to be clean. Needs a family already toilet trained. And Muffy. Her family redecorated. Everything wooden, not a thing left to scratch on. What did they expect her to do? So we packed our bags. Hit the road. And here we are, looking to better our situation.”

Harrumph. Not applicable at all. I came from a purrfect home with well trained beans. Very clean. Always flushed. Not an issue amongst them. No reason I couldn’t stay. I’m sure this is just temporary, after all, I was quite an investment.

Dublin gave a smirk. Perfect, huh? Then what’cha doing here anyway? Sounds a little hoakey to me, bud.

Rosie looked at me with those gentle, blue eyes. It’s alright, guy, don’t worry. They’re very good at finding the right home.

And so the days became weeks and the weeks, months. Reuben, Rosie, and even Dublin found their new families, but I remained at the Center. Not to worry, it was the slow time of the year, they said. And then, one Saturday……

They were nothing like I envisioned. A crinkle-ball face with grey scruff attached to a tiny little bean in pigtails came trotting towards me. “Oooh, let’s get this one, pappy, pullleeese!” Dangling like a ragdoll, I closed my eyes to a smell that was an interesting combination of fresh cut hay, tobacco, and early morning grits. A far cry from Sevruga, but it had a home-like smell to it.

I batted at the pigtails to squeals of delight. Small beans? What was the problem? I certainly didn’t have one. Wonder why my first family thought I would?

Photo credit: Amanda Thompson

Ok, so I’m not the perfect cat. I’m not just right – I might be too big, or too small; too vocal, or too quiet. I may also have some medical issues, and I don’t have my complete medical history with me to explain why. I may have been exposed to parasites: worms, fleas, ticks, or ear mites. I may have some kind of intestinal upsets, and I may not have perfect stools every time.
Behaviorally, I have a little baggage. I may not be able to walk right into your home perfectly well adjusted. I may take issue if there is another cat, dog or child, no matter what age or sex and may show my fear in a variety of ways. I may not love everyone immediately and I may not do exactly what you want in the beginning. I may not be able to adapt to any situation. I may get confused about the litter box, and might even make a mistake, no matter what litter you use, where the pan is, or how often you clean it.
Emotionally? I may have some idiosyncrasies. I may nip, swat, hiss, put my ears back, hide, cower or tremble. I may look at you with fear, and distrust, and concern. It might take several months, or even a year before I can begin to trust again.

I am one of society’s throwaways.

Is this the cat you’re looking for?

If not, maybe you should look elsewhere. Please don’t ask to take me home, because I have already been rejected far too many times already and would rather stay at the shelter than be given one more reason to mistrust people again.

I am one of a group of cats. A group that has been dumped in the shelters, booted out the doors, kicked, hit, beaten, yelled at, shot, cursed, thrown from moving cars, left to fend on our own. A group of cats that has learned that humans are NOT kind and society is NOT fair and life is NOT comfortable. A group of cats that didn’t have good prenatal care, that don’t know where our next meal was coming from, that have lived outside through hot and cold and dug through garbage to find enough to eat. We are the cats that have been flea bitten and worm ridden and burned with hot oil. We are the cats who have been hit by cars and left for dead; who have swallowed stones and ribbons and had nothing but intestinal upsets; who have loose stools or who have stools that are so hard they can barely pass. We have been told we were too loud, too messy, or we didn’t match the new furniture. We have been chased by dogs, had our tails pulled by kids, and been bullied by other cats. Some of us have never known a litter box, let alone a clean one. We have watched our loving family drive off one day without a backward glance after 15 years; we have been replaced after ten years with a new puppy. We look at you with big round eyes full of fear and terror, and occasionally hatred, and yes, deep down, with a little hope. We are the cats in Rescue.

Why, then, would anyone possibly want one of us?

The reasons are endless.

We need you. We deserve to be loved, to have a second chance, to learn how to trust again. We have been at the mercy of our surroundings; it is up to you to care for us. You, as part of the race that has caused this overpopulation of animals; you, who as part of the species, some of whose members have mistreated and misplaced these deserving creatures, owe it to us to care. You should be setting examples for the next generation – that this should not be a throwaway society that we can and should be doing something about it. We can be your FAMILY members, members who share in your joys, your sorrows, your misfortunes and your luck. We are here when you need someone to talk to, to comfort, and to be comforted. We lick your tears and pat your face and snuggle under your chin. We like you for you, and we ask so little from you. A pat, a scratch, the toss of a ball, a kind word, we repay you with loyalty and adoration and faithful friendship.
You may have to earn it, this is true, and we may be so damaged by our previous experiences that we’ll never be “The Perfect” cat, but the appreciation that emanates from our eyes; the love that we share when we realize we are safe, secure, and home forever, is a gift that cannot be bought. We have seen rough times, yes, but if we are willing to give you a second chance, why won’t you give us one?

Tag: rescue

A Cat’s Eye Point of View

Why Rescue?