I'm a foster cat mom now. I signed up as a volunteer with the SPCA a week ago. Mercedes (hate the name, call her 'Mer') has been ensconced here for a week. Her horrible lung infection is gone and I'm FINALLY done force-feeding her antibiotics.
When I signed up, I had this picture of a cute, sweet 5-month old kitten to take care of. Instead, the head volunteer honcho handed me a carrier with a 16.5 pound 7-year-old female cat. I nearly dislocated my shoulder lugging her home from the Sound Transit stop.
To her credit, Mer Kitty is demure, quiet, perfectly litter-box trained, doesn't destroy house plants and was the quietest cat I've ever transported in a carrier. (I helped a friend haul a couple of her cats to the vet a few years ago and it was YOWLING, inhuman SHRIEKING and non-stop insanity for two miles through terrible Seattle traffic.)
Anyhoo, she goes back to SPCA next Thursday and then I'm going to take a volunteer 'break' and wait a couple weeks before I have to start dealing with litter boxes and cat fleas again.
Right now, seriously folks, I don't know if I'm going to have a place to live come May 5th. No lie, the shit in my life is that deep.
UPDATE: Mer Kitty's catnip addiction is out of hand. She's now demanding 'cat crack' at all hours of the night. I've had to cut her off the herb. She's out of control! ;p