Daisy, Daisy…

I took the cat to the animal shelter today.

Daisy was a very pretty cat, somewhat aloof (as cats are wont to be), and a little demanding.  I don’t think she knew what was going on when Melissa and the dogs left.  She seemed somewhat happy to be rid of the dogs, I guess, but never quite happy with my treatment of her.  Her main problem was a failure to hit the litterbox (almost certainly caused by my failure to clean it often enough).

All the apartments I’m looking at don’t allow pets, and I think she would be happier with a family that would take better care of her.  I don’t really know how to take care of a cat.  With dogs, you love them, you walk them, you feed them, and they are good.  With cats, you have to read their moods.  I’ve never been very good at doing that.  Plus, sharp claws does not mix well with the kind of roughhousing I like to do.  It was best for both of us that she go.

We got her from a no-kill shelter.  When we picked her up, they said we had to give her back to them if we ever wanted or needed to get rid of her.  After 5 e-mails to them, the last 4 with no response at all, that option was no longer available.  My brother’s friend Ian works at the county shelter, and he says that they always have tons of room for cats, and that cats under 10 are always adopted right away.  That gives me hope that she will find a good family.  And, hopefully Ian can keep an eye on her.

She meowed a lot while we were on our way.  She always meowed when we put her in the travel crate, so I don’t think she knew what was going on, but it still makes it harder.  When we set her up on the desk at the shelter, she stopped meowing.  I don’t know what that portends, but I hope good things.

I was going to write this blog post from my parents’ house, but I’m glad I didn’t.  I want to tell you about the experience of coming home and having the subconscious expectation of a greeting there.  At the very least, the past couple weeks, I would get a few meows.  Daisy had been lonely right along with me.  Hopefully, she won’t be lonely for very much longer.  A nice family will adopt her.  Me?  We shall see.

Now, I go to clean the litterbox for the last time.

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