Indulge me, please. I want to share with you my most recent experience with rescuing a cat. If you recall, I recently posted a blog entitled Season Changes. After having to put down my 18 year old cat I found myself in the unusual situation of not having a pet in the house. It had been roughly 35 years since I was without a furry companion under the same roof and it was unsettling. When I was a child, it was acceptable to have pets but they were not allowed to live in the house. Years later, when I was living 300 miles away from my parents, that rule appeared to have changed. During a visit back home, I was offered a kitten. I wasn’t looking for a pet but I didn’t have the heart to say no. Ironically, it seemed totally acceptable to now have a pet in my parent’s home. I don’t know if they had mellowed with age or maybe they were comfortable with the situation as it would only be temporary for them. Either way, she was welcome inside and thus began my journey to having cats become members of the family.

The cat who was responsible for my indulgence of feline ownership was well traveled. She had lived in a total of three states when she left me at the age of 22. Others were to follow and it wasn’t unusual to have at least two at a time. When I lost my last one it was difficult to cast off the usual habits of feeding, litter box scooping, being met at the door when returning home and snuggling. Her departure left a void. Although there is grief in the loss of a pet, I have never been one to mourn for a great deal of time. I have always believed that as a cat left it was to allow for the inclusion of another homeless one in need of a family. There were plenty of offers for strays but I found myself checking Petfinder and began keeping tabs on those who caught my eye.

I settled on one who was noted to have been a sole indoor cat and a couch potato. She sounded like a possibility. I am well past the stage in my life that I feel up to entertaining the antics of a kitten. An adult cat who could settle into a quiet environment would appear to be a good fit. The shelter was a half hour drive and I headed there the week before Thanksgiving. Initially I was told that she had been adopted just hours prior to my arrival. I was disappointed but asked to see the other cats after making the trip there. It was then when I spotted her. The identification tag had been erroneously switched. When staff went back to the reception area to check things out, I opened the cage and met a cat who was receptive to my attention. It was late in the day and the shelter was about to close. Hastily I decided she was destined to be my cat and I made arrangements to adopt her. I was not prepared to take her home then but advised I would be back the following Friday afternoon to pick her up.

There was joy in my heart as I made my way back to retrieve her. I had to remind myself that it had been years since I brought a new cat into my home and we would be strangers to one another. Still, with my many years of cat ownership, I felt that there was nothing that I couldn’t handle. The shelter had labeled her as special needs and there was a discussion about her diet. Again, from my prior experience, I knew I could handle that situation as I had been through it before. They did share that she was surrendered when her previous owner had to go into a nursing home. I brought my carrier in and staff escorted me to her kennel. The door was open and she automatically walked from the kennel into the carrier. I was amazed at how easy she made the transition. Maybe she knew I was breaking her out and good things lay ahead.

When we arrived home, I opened the carrier door and she walked out. I watched as she made her way cautiously around the living room and into the hallway. At that point I noticed she had a severe limp. It hurt me to watch her walk. Without hesitating I called the shelter and asked if they were aware of her limp. I was told they were and they had it checked. At the time they couldn’t determine the cause. I was heartsick and felt betrayed. At no time was this shared with me as a potential adopter. Choosing a cat is different than selecting a shelter dog. You don’t walk them and checking their mobility is not usually a factor. Why were her dietary needs shared rather than her limp? I immediately had rescuer’s remorse. What was wrong with her? My pockets are not deep and I was concerned that I would not be able to afford the medical care she might need. I was torn. She is a living creature and the thought of possibly returning her was upsetting. It’s not like making a return to customer service with merchandise. I was angry with myself for making such a hasty decision. I was angry with the shelter for not having full disclosure. The only one who elicited a compassionate response in me was the cat.

A trip to check her out medically was a necessity. I poured my heart out to the vet and explained the dilemma I was facing. She was sincere in her support of me keeping the cat and acknowledged that a cat like her would most likely remain languishing in the shelter. I don’t know if that trip caused more anxiety for me or the cat. She was stressed to the point that x-rays would not be possible that day. I was sent home with prescriptions and the plan to return the following week for the needed x-rays. Trying to bond with a cranky cat who was not interested in taking medication proved to be difficult. Soon time gave way to her appointment and I learned sedation was needed to get her to cooperate for the x-rays. I won’t leave you in suspense. The limp is caused by severe arthritis. There are no options other than a daily supplement and monthly shots. Even before I learned of her diagnosis I knew I couldn’t return her to the shelter. I took the responsibility of bringing her home and that is where she will stay. The vet, again supporting my determination, wrote off a large portion of the bill.

I can tell you that just after one month she is doing well. The limp has not totally subsided but it is obvious she is feeling better. She is affectionate and playful. The hissing and growling has subsided. I recognize that she was trying to make an adjustment while in pain. I am comfortable in my decision to keep her. I felt all along there was a reason that we were connected. She never asked to be in this situation, surrendered and in need of medical care. My adoption of Molly may not change anything outside of our lives but it brings a sense of satisfaction. I would not ordinarily think that rescuing a cat could be considered taking a risk but in a way it was. Her unexpected medical needs made me realize that I am not only her source of care but also her voice. You may wonder if I learned anything more from this experience. Taking the chance on one of God’s creatures opened my eyes to other possible expectations of myself. How much greater would it be to take a risk and act as a supporter and advocate to another human being? Again, it might not change the world but the individual that I reach out to may find their load a bit lighter. As this new year begins and resolutions are made, I will look upon the needs of others as opportunities rather than burdens.