The day came. The day I hoped would. Toby and Tyler are now tamed. So yesterday, I went to talk to the director at the humane society. "Laurie," she said, "I want to show you something." As we began to walk, the tears welled in my eyes. What I saw was more than I could stand. Room after room, cage after cage, of kittens. Cats. Every age and stage of life, but mostly, kittens. Play rooms, c bank, incubation room. All full. Housed in this building are at least 100 young cats, and a few adult. Their future? Hopefully to find a forever home. "For every 3 that may go out in a day, 15 may come in." Heart sick. That's all I could feel. Prognoses for Toby and Tyler? Grim. As wild cats, only used to me, they would go mad if put in a cage, surrounded by cages of other kittens, they wouldn't be able to handle it,and at that point the only option is to be put down. I can't, and I won't. I was offered an option, and will take it. Tomorrow, they are going to the humane society for worming, blood work up, and shots. Next week, they will be neutered. From there, they are coming home. Against my husbands will, but the other option is more than I can bear. With 33 years as director of the humane society, she had hoped to see a change. That pet owners would understand the importance of having their pets spayed or neutered. That they would be responsible. Yet year after year, from early spring through October, hundreds of kittens pass through the doors.
These babies have had a rough start. They took a long time to trust, and though Toby (left) is totally tame and the loudest purrer on the face of the planet, Tyler still has a ways to go.
As it stands now, these are Andy's babies. He bathes them, talks to them, disciplines,reprimands, teaches, and plays with them. He's their daddy, friend, and companion. He would be beside himself if they left.
So they won't. For now.
