Sunday Mornings at PetCo

It occured to me this morning, while I was on my hands and knees on the floor of a major chain pet store, sweeping up cat litter and talking a non-stop stream to the cats in cages around me, that I've recently passed my one-year anniversary of volunteering for Animal Friends Connection Humane Society.

I celebrated by cuddling the five current occupants of our cages at PetCo, getting hissed at by one and purred at by the rest.

When I first signed up to spend my Sunday mornings scooping cat boxes, some people scratched their heads and wondered out loud why I'd sign up to do the "dirty work." I said it then and I am still saying it: I am helping a wonderful organization do something that needs to be done, and I am providing comfort and affection to cats who are still looking for their forever homes. Each and every cat that I have known has been special, and when a successful adoption happens, I cheer. I may have just scooped the poop for that cat a few times, but my willingness to do that freed up someone else to talk to people, to get people interested in our cats, to complete the paperwork. Every little bit helps.

So yes, I'm proud that for a year now, I've spent my Sunday mornings scooping cat poop, dishing out stinky canned food and washing stainless steel food dishes in the dog grooming sinks. I have cuddled a lot of cats. I've been scratched and hissed at. I've been cuddled and head-butted. I fostered my first litter last July (and would do it again if my situation allowed it, but alas, it doesn't) and knew the joy of watching "my babies" grow up and find good forever homes. The satisfaction in what I do is endless.

Today, I happened to have my camera with me, so I took a few pictures of a typical Sunday morning at PetCo. Here's the gang in residence this morning.

This is Claire. Yes, her ear is damaged. We believe she was a victim of abuse in her previous life. She meowed at me the entire time I was cleaning this morning, and let me pet her through the bars. However, when I got near her with the cage door open, she hissed and swatted at me. Still, she has a sweet disposition at her foster home, and hopefully she'll find a good match soon.

This is Squeak. You can't tell in this picture, but he's a Big Boy. He's got to weigh more than 16 pounds. Harley is 14 pounds (or thereabouts) and he's nowhere near as big as Squeak. His ear is notched, indicating that he was once feral and someone had him neutered. This cat is the biggest sweetie, and very laid-back. He had been adopted once before, but a more aggressive cat in the home was making him stressed and unhappy, so he came back to us...everyone hated it, but it was best for the cat, which is what we're all about.

Imagine my delight when I checked the log today and saw that he got adopted yesterday! He'll be delivered to his new family soon, and I wish him all the best.

He was purring like mad at this point.

This is Beth. Beth is barely a year old, and she has already had a litter of kittens (four of whom have already been adopted). This "teenage Mom" is an absolute sweetie and someone fell in love with her a few days ago. so she, too, is spoken for. I cleaned her cage this morning, even knowing that a few hours later, Diane would come by to collect her and deliver her to her new home.  The people who adopted her have adopted four or five AFC cats over the years--sadly, one they adopted about six months ago had a brain aneurism and died recently--he'd come to us from a colony of cats that had a lot of inbreeding and health issues. Still, as Marian put it, even though we're sad for Charlie Brown (not my Charlie Brown, as far as I know, he and Snoopy are thriving in their new home), it opened a door for Beth, which opens a space in a foster home, which saves another feline life, etc.

Timmy is a sweet little boy who was bounced from one foster home to another in an attempt to socialize him. While sweet, he was incredibly timid, and people don't want timid cats. He found his way to the same foster home as a fellow junior named Bogey, and they bonded instantly. They're sharing a cage at PetCo, and making a complete mess in their epic wrestling matches (see all the scattered litter? I had just finished cleaning in there!).

Bogey was previously placed with his pal Boo, until Boo got himself adopted a few months ago. As kittens, they were total madmen at PetCo, upsetting their beds and litter boxes, spilling water and food all over, and generally making us all laugh at their crazy kitten antics. We really hope that Timmy and Bogey will get adopted together.

The grooming department lets us use their big sinks to wash our dishes. I used to feel weird, walking back there without so much as a by-your-leave, but the ladies in Grooming know me by sight now and always greet me if they're not talking to a customer.

Our supply cabinet has a small quilt strung up in the door to keep the mess out of sight. People still sometimes think we're hiding a nursing mama and her litter in there, even though it's clearly labelled "Supply Cabinet."

The log. Saturdays are adoption day, so I am always the first one in to clean after that. We keep track of who has come in, who has gone home (foster home or forever home), and any concerns. We all love our charges and

The cage fronts. Each cat (or pair of cats) has two cages, with an opening in the middle. One side is food and bedding. The other side is for the litter box. We could put eight cats in, but they'd be crowded and miserable. Cats don't like having their food near their litter boxes (would you eat dinner in your bathroom?), and they need room to stretch and move around. A cat usually stays at PetCo for 2 weeks before going back to the foster home (unless they are adopted, of course), and we rotate them in and out to ensure that they aren't there too long.

For the record, the two cages on the bottom left are where two little boys, named Mr. Nibbles and Khan, were housed on a fateful December day in 2008 when I went to PetCo to find a kitty to adopt. Mr. Nibbles had just been claimed, and Marian was helping his new family with the adoption paperwork when the other volunteer on hand let me hold Khan, a three-month-old boy with enormous charm and a louder-than-loud purr. We all know what happened next.

(Damn, he was so little!)