Holy Cow, I Mean, Cat!
So I did something a little impulsive and spinster-y this weekend – I decided to foster a cat! (I am committed to putting up a Match.com profile before the cat lady jokes begin.)
The first foster cat, Mimi Pickles, lasted just 23 hours. The agency hadn’t realized that she has serious health conditions, and I hadn’t realized how terrifying cats can be when you have to give them medicine. They sent a soccer player from Columbia University to my apartment to pick her up because you have to be a college athlete to coerce an unwilling cat into a carrier.
Then I got Eevee (the name she came with)! After the volunteer dropped her off, I couldn’t find Eevee anywhere in the apartment and panicked that I’d already lost her. (I’ve left several wallets on the top of moving cars, so this was not beyond the realm of possibility.) But then I heard a rustling coming from my bookshelves and saw her tiny eyes peeking out from behind Orson Scott Card (see pic below). I knew we were meant to be right then.
I think her name needs a little work, but naming things is not my strong suit. Left to my own devices, I will probably just call her Cat, which seems a huge injustice for a cat who loves books. Would love your nickname suggestions in the comments below!
Other things I like about her? When she walks, it sounds like 4 tiny tap shoes on my floor. She seems to like to sleep a lot. She has a tiger face. She hasn’t meowed yet. She loves to curl up at my feet. She’s missing two toes.
Things I’m not sure I love about having a cat? I grew up with a cat who pooped like a newborn full of burritos, so I’m just not that into cat poops. Also not that wild about their toenails (but would never declaw) – it’s a little like having Freddy Kruger for a pet.
So – we’ll see how it goes! Any advice?