When we were looking for a new cat companion in Seattle I went through over 400 online pet descriptions before we made our choice. We went to the shelter and found out that the cat we wanted (after sitting in the shelter for 6 months) was adopted 15 minutes before we got there. My wife cried. I nearly cried. It was very stressful. I decided that I wanted to minimize shelter stress in the future, so after going through all the photos again, we made our second choice (which turned out to be Benjamin Black at MEOW). This time I did my homework – I downloaded the forms, had the exact cost of the adoption in my pocket, made arrangements to get to MEOW exactly at opening time, and called the night before just prior to the shelter closing to make sure that Benjamin Black was still available. I also memorized what the cat looked like (it was pretty easy, he had a distinctive bent ear).
The next morning I arrived in the shelter parking lot right as the doors opened. I marched in and laid my adoption papers on the counter.”
May I help you?” said the very nice, but still somewhat groggy volunteer behind the counter.
“Yes,” I said, trying to ignore all the piteous “take me home” meows seemingly coming from everywhere, “I would like to adopt a cat.” I slid the paperwork across the counter.”
OK, good” said the volunteer, eyeing the paperwork a bit blearily. “We have lots of wonderful….”
“I want to adopt Benjamin Black,” I said, tapping the name of the cat on the paperwork. I had my courage up now, and glanced around, locating Benjamin in one of the nearby cages.”
All right,” said the volunteer, “let me see if he is still avail….”
“He’s right there,” I said, pointing, “in that cage.”
“Oh.” Said the volunteer. There was a pause. The volunteer looked from me to the cat and back again. “Don’t you even want to take him into the visitation room?” the volunteer finally asked.
At this point I realized that I was probably coming off as some sort of mad vivisectionist.
“Oh.” I said. “OK. Sure.”
I went into the visitation room and sat down. The volunteer brought in Benjamin. Now Benjamin had been abused and neglected and dumped and rescued and had sat in a shelter for a long time and then been adopted and terrorized by dogs and brought back. Benjamin was an emotional wreck. Consequently Benjamin immediately ran to the corner furthest away from me and huddled there, making cat screamy noises. Benjamin had a very loud voice when he tried. But at least it drowned out all the other cats. I sat there with Benjamin for five minutes. Occasionally I noticed the volunteer looking concerned in my direction. After five minutes I figured I had done my duty, exited the visitation room, walked up to the counter and said “I’ll take him.”
The volunteer looked at me as though he were now SURE I was a mad vivisectionist. But another staff member had now arrived, and we got through the paperwork, got Benjamin in a cat carrier, and I took him out to the car. I tried to call my wife to let her know that I was on the way home with the cat, but she couldn’t hear me over the sound of the cat screamy noises Benjamin was making.
Benjamin lived with us for many years. He eventually got over his fear of people and would sleep curled up on the bed with us. He loved to be petted and brushed. We nursed him through a year’s worth of illness and he died comfortably in his forever home.
But I think that volunteer must still have terrible memories of me.
