Tuesday, February 8, 2011

2-8-11 Faith

Faith is the other feline of the house. Since Fisher got yesterday's blog, in the interest of fairness (because cats somehow know these things). . . .

Sammi has always loved cats and since she was 3, has tried and tried to love on Fisher, who will have nothing whatsoever to do with her.

We took a kitten from her friend, Tinkerbell, who was adorable. But Tinkerbell didn't understand she couldn't fly out of nowhere, claws bared to jump on the arthritic hips of a blind and deaf border collie, and I had the trauma of racing the kitten who Ian grabbed and flung off of himself to the vet knowing it was too late.

We tried a grown cat from the same friend, but this cat could not get along with Fisher and then took to tearing up the house. She went back to be the outdoor cat she was programmed to be.

Finally, in 2006, I relented again and decided to try finding a shelter that might have a better idea about which cats were laid back and able to handle a multiple pet household.

I used PetFinder and stumbled across a place strangely listed in Navasota (not the tiny animal shelter) called the Cat's Cradle with a number of profiles of cats, so I called the number.

Gail Allen started the no-kill Cat's Cradle in 1998 when she took in a number of cats dumped alongside her property out in Grimes County. She quickly realized this was going to become a habit. Over the years she devoted three different mobile homes on her property as free ranging cat homes so they wouldn't be confined to cages while they waited for someone to give them a forever home. When we visited, it was amazing that she knew every cat's name, its personality, whether it would be a good fit for us. We're talking over 100 cats.

In one of the house, Sammi sat down on the bed in one of the bedrooms and petted Faith, who curled up next to her. Faith was already 5 years old at the time, had been adopted as a kitten by an elderly couple, and was brought back when the couple had taken on the daycare for their daughter's toddler and could no longer keep Faith.

Gail brought Faith over to ease her into our house. We still laugh at Bob's interaction with our beloved cat lady, since he has always been a committed dog person. When she suggested giving the cats bottled water, he thankfully restrained himself from pointing out that they happily drink out of the toilet. When we were describing Fisher's issues, and she suggested therapy (tongue in cheek, in think . . .) I saw him bite his lip. But other than that, things went smoothly and Faith became Sammi's cat.

She shed her chubby house-cat weight pretty quickly and people often mistake her for a kitten, she's so tiny, especially her paws. Sammi likes to think they are soul mates, since her hands are tiny too.

But Faith has her own issues. She is an instigator, especially where Fisher is concerned. She constantly creeps toward him and tries to get him to move. Much hissing and groaning ensues. I wonder if she's just looking to play, but secretly I think she just likes screwing with him.

And this is most likely because the dogs think watching Faith is better than the Superbowl.

She loves to curl up under things, and sleeps every night with Sammi either under her covers or on top of her head on the pillow.

And she is ridiculously cute when she sleeps. She'll curl into a tiny ball. And SNORE like a chainsaw. That part is not quite as cute. . .

But she keeps the dogs endlessly entertained, whether she's playing with them

Or just putting up with their border collie stares.

And one of her favorite things to do is to find a pair of hands on the laptop available for sitting on.

She fits right in with the rest of the crazies here.

And if you are ever looking to adopt a kitten or cat and live (or can travel) to the Bryan/College Station area, please consider contacting Gail. I just read that she's weathered a bout with lung cancer (and never smoked a day in her life) between '07 and '09 (without health insurance) and she takes care of these cats on her own dime when adoption fees and donations run out. The Cat's Cradle


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