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Pet Adoption

Hello and Good-bye

We take in so many elderly cats, cats who are already in their teenage years, that it shouldn’t be a surprise when one of them passes away.  When Chelsea died away on January 3rd at age 20, it wasn’t a surprise—she’d already cheated death at least twice that I knew of—but it was still incredibly sad.  Chelsea was our first rescue cat, the first official Wee Paws cat, the first cranky, belligerent, fussy, difficult cat that I took in reluctantly and grew to love unabashedly.  She was strong and active until just a couple of weeks before her death from acute renal failure, and I’ve no doubt she left because she was good and ready, not because she gave up.  I miss her pink nose and jutting lower jaw, her expression one of haughtiness and Victorian disapproval, but she’s left a legacy of in which she’s caused dozens and dozens of other cats to be rescued, all because I fell all giddy in love with her at a time when I wasn’t sure I wanted even one cat, let alone an entire sanctuary of them.  Because of Chelsea I’ll always have a place in my heart for grumpy girls who play hard to get.

Two weeks before we said goodbye to Chelsea, we said Hello to Slippy.  He’s a handsome 14 year old boy who’d been surrendered to a Los Angeles shelter for reasons that shall remain a mystery, because the official reason (“cosmetic issues”) doesn’t make the slightest bit of sense.  Slippy was understandably confused and stressed out when he first arrived, and he didn’t seem too happy about having other cats around, but he’s now able to touch noses and is comfortably settling in.  He’s about twice the size of most of the cats here (and not the slightest bit overweight), and craves attention from people.  He gives excellent head bumps and loves to nap with the humans after a nice lunch.  He hasn’t hesitated to scold the German shepherd for daring to be a dog, and he’s truly just a wonderful, clean, friendly cat (with cute,un-manly pink lips).  Oh, he immediately took to eating raw food, too, so he’s also great because he’s not a fussy eater.  My only concern regarding Slippy is the amount of water he drinks, an excessive amount considering he’s fed wet food.  He might just be adjusting to the climate being more dry than he’s used to (especially with the furnace running so often), but this could also be a sign of renal issues so we’ll take him in for a checkup.  Chelsea’s cremains come home on Thursday, so we’ll take Slippy to meet the vet while we bring Chelsea home for the last time, and things will come full circle.

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