Hi, my name is Laura and I am a failed cat foster parent.
It all started with a simple enough phone call from the ever diligent Vivienne Bacon, the lady who keeps us all at KSC on track and on point of saving the plethora of cats we all love to snuggle. This phone call took place two days before Thanksgiving as I prepared for my mother's arrival for the holiday. The request was simple, pick up a three month old kitten named Aimee from the vet's office and keep her through the long holiday weekend in my tiny postage stamp sized bathroom. Hmmmm... sure, okay, can do! What's a tiny fluff kitten in my bathroom going to upstart in the whole grand scheme of things? HAHA!
She had me at "meow". Here's this tiny itty bitty fluff ball of a kitten who struggled so hard to survive on the streets on her own and then was struggling to just breathe and gain weight... my heart melted. I tucked her in my sweat shirt as I putzed around the house, prepared a small Thanksgiving meal and she just lethargically purred, grateful for the warmth. Nothing but skin and bones, I would wake up every two hours and stumble into the bathroom just to feed her some more and make sure she was warm and still breathing. This went on for four days. She finally started to breathe without labor, jump around like a normal kitten, and eat like it was her last meal. I decided to let her stay in my bathroom just another week (famous last words). Two weeks later, she decided to charge out of the bathroom with the gusto of a cat four times her size. Her path took her right into the nose of my calico, Raggedy Ann... I held my breath, RA took a step back and Aimee stretched forward to swat my strong willed calico right on the nose. RA spun around and ran the other way. My boy, Kwame, came out to see what the fuss was and within minutes, this 15 pound tabby was playing with a 2.5 pound tan tabby like they were fast friends.
I say I failed as a foster parent because in the end, I couldn't imagine my house without this small addition. My hat off to those who can foster the legions of kittens every year and send them off with a slight tear and lots of love!! Needless to say, Aimee became Arcadia (aka Archie - different blog at a later date to explain that one) and now runs the house with her little white booted paw. She is one feisty little kitten that I and my two cats love unconditionally. My foster parenting days may be over until I buy a bigger house, but I like to think I kick @ss as a loving mother to my fuzzy four pawed babies.
Consider fostering, its an experience that I recommend for everyone who has a spare bedroom, bathroom or even a den. King Street Cats covers all vet costs, feeding costs, etc. all we need is someone to take in cats of many ages, sizes and attitudes. Go to KingStreetCats.org and send us an e-mail to learn more.