Chloe - Easygoing companion cat!

2/20/12 - Hi Annette Remember Chloe - I just thought I'd send you a little update on her life in our house. She is of course spoiled - she is now the "queen of the household". She is very friendly with everyone that comes here (as long as it's not another CAT!). She has her own beds, one upstairs and one in the family room, and she loves cuddling up in them. She loves to climb on me for a little lap time and she follows me everywhere I go. She greets me at the door every night after work and waits patiently for her nightly treat. Of course if I go away for a few days she "adopts" my husband as her best friend. All in all she has become quite a lovable companion and a great addition to our family. Thanks again for all your help in finding us the "purr-fect" kitty. Have a great day - Mary Lou

CATHY -CATHEDRAL

2/6/12 - Miss Kitty (formerly Cathy), LadyBird (another Castaway Critter) & LucyLou all resting on/by Mom’s lap. Thank you, again – what wonderful critters we have! Pat

Catherine - Lovable Maine Coon Mix

11/14/11 - Hi, I was cleaning up my e-mail accounts in preparation for a new “system” and came across your address. I think of you often and just thought I would drop you a note. It will be seven months tomorrow that Catherine and I have been together and I just wanted to let you know that I am desperately, hopelessly in love with this cat! She has brought such joy to my life and filled a huge void I never knew I had! She spends her days sitting on the windowsills gazing out at the city 12 floors below, so much so that I was worried it would be too cold for her come winter, so I bought a carpeted window perch for her comfort and pleasure. My friends and family get a kick out of the fact that I have truly become a cat person, could sit and watch her do nothing for hours. Anyway, I just wanted to thank you again for bringing us together and know that we look forward to many more years together! P.S. NEVER had a litter box accident! Take care. Patsy

Chessie

Chessie is now free to run all she wants without restraint in a nice big fenced back yard. She will be getting lots of love and attention from her new owners. All were smiling when we left.

Chester (a lover, but w/ special needs)

Chiaroscuro - The veterinarian stepped out of the exam room and closed the door behind him. Lord Sergei Maximillion and I were left to share our last minutes together alone. It was only a few weeks before that he appeared to be a perfectly healthy 10-year old feline, albeit a bit overweight. After all he was a Maine Coon mix and they had a tendency to run a little “squishy.” So when his appetite subsided and the vomiting began, we naturally sought help. The diagnosis was shocking but clear and landed a blow like a judge’s gavel. Metastatic cancer had spread to his lungs, and served a death sentence to one of the sweetest, most regal, loyal and gentle cats to ever grace my home. The doctor’s prognosis was that he did not have long and unfortunately he was accurate. So here we sat, with Max draped over my shoulder. My tears soaked his thick gray fur as he grew limp and his heart slowed. “It’s okay. I love you,” I said, but it absolutely was NOT okay. I choked back the sobs, not wanting to cause him any more stress than the office visit. There would be plenty of opportunity later for a melt down. So much of one’s life can change in a moment. The home where I loved to arrive after a long day to be greeted happily at the door by that bouncing 13-pound ball of a purring machine, now felt like an empty cave. How could it be so cold in April? The place seemed void of color. There was no chiaroscuro, the play of light and shade, about which I learned in art school, and which is of such vital importance to the painter. My home not only became a house, but it faded into shades of gray. Since culinary classes at the local community college were eating up a huge chunk of my time, I purposed to wait until fall before adopting another cat. Yet, the idea of adoption now possessed my waking hours. After all, it was the first time in over 20 years I was “catless” (and even then, only for a month). It simply wasn’t natural to be without one. How I hated coming home and padding around this empty, dismal house! So, within a week after Max’s passing, I began to look at photographs of cats on PetFinder.com “just to pass the time” and obtain somewhat of a fix to last me until September. It was just eye-candy, right? No; it was more like pornography for the deprived (albeit not quite depraved) cat lover and quickly grew into something uncontainable. The adult, declawed cats caught my eye. I spied a little black one that not only had no claws; the description said he was born with no toes! His name was Chester – “A lover, but with special needs.” His profile sounded perfect. Of course it did; it’s like browsing eHarmony for men – many of them sound dreamy until you meet them and they turn out to be a sore disappointment, as well as a waste of time. I read it again… “Please consider completing an on-line application for this guy - you'll become the center of his world, and him, yours.” It certainly was what I craved. There would be no harm in simply inquiring… He was in a Castaway Critters’ foster home; however, after talking to the foster mother I thought, “She doesn’t want to part with him.” There was no offer to meet Chester in the immediate future. It would take a special person for her to let him go. It was God’s way of telling me to get a grip and forget this obsession until a more appropriate time. But I couldn’t stop thinking about the little black cat with deformed paws. “No harm in putting in an application to just see where it goes,” I thought. To my surprise I received a prompt reply. She had reservations, due to my honest confession about my crazy schedule. However, she would defer these, if I was willing to adopt a second cat to keep Chester company. Another Castaway Critter’s foster home had just the guy. His name was Lawrence T. Brimley and he was similar in size and age (one year) to Chester (two years). Two kitties. Why not? After all, I had two most of my life and it was always a positive thing. I quickly pulled up Lawrence’s profile to find he was one who had also caught my eye before I saw Chester. He had the sweetest face with a “who me?” look in his eyes. Both cats were, in appearance, unlike any other cats I had ever had. Chester was solid black with fur that gleamed like fresh rain and Lawrence possessed unique black markings on his white coat and a peace sign on the top of his head. I always wanted black and white pair. Also, other folks I knew who owned two males claimed they got along wonderfully. That weekend Lawrence’s foster mom took him to PetSmart so we could meet. In spite of the fact that he was nervous in his strange surroundings he was sweetly responsive when I stroked his head, and I immediately laid claim to him. But he had not yet met Chester and I was taking Chester sight-unseen. Was this insane? Was I being impetuous? So, it was with a bit of trepidation that I brought them home and released them both from their carriers in the same room. Chester hissed at the first sight of Lawrence and Lawrence, wide-eyed, sought refuge under the utility sink. “It’s going to be a long adjustment period,” I thought. However, by the second night, to my shock and delight, they actually played together and have been buddies ever since. They complement each other in that Chester (now Roux) is easy going and brought Lawrence (now Pippin) out of his shell, and Pippin’s sweet spirit abated Roux’s initial hostility. This is one of the many advantages of adopting from a foster system such as Castaway Critters. The foster parents know the animals and can give much insight as to their personality traits. Both cats are healthy, love to play and fetch (although with Pippin I’m the one doing most of the fetching these days) and are lap cats. They are good eaters with impeccable litter box habits. They are consistently happy and appear grateful to have a safe, stable, forever home. I truly believe they remember from whence they came, which in both cases were high kill animal shelters from West Virginia. They also differ. Pippin is silly, sweet and doesn’t have a mean bone in his body; Roux is regal and a real ladies’ man. Just this weekend a friend was sitting at the kitchen bar, sipping her wine and watching me cook when Roux (as he often does when I’m in the kitchen) jumped up on the vacant bar stool beside her and leaned his “elbow” on the counter as though he was “bellying up” to the bar. He sat there at length, just hanging out with the girls. Roux also helps around the house with sorting laundry, making the bed and even flushing the toilet. Pippin loves to be petted and will roll over on his back for a belly rub, especially in the empty bathtub. He has a restless and impish streak, which take him on nightly prowls in search of things to knock off of counters and shelves where he doesn’t belong. It’s forced me to be neater and not leave things lay around. It must be providence that caused them to be saved from high-kill shelters in spite of their “disabilities” (Roux’s is physical whereas Pippin has an initial fear of strangers.) But they have both risen above these hindrances and are living life to the fullest. Animals live in the moment and have a lot to teach us in that regard. I shutter to think of what might have become of them and am grateful that someone out there saw their potential in spite of the minor setbacks. Next spring, I will bury Max’s ashes in the herb garden, near the catnip. Afterward, when I enter the house, fresh catnip in hand, there will be two warm, affectionate boys who are more than able to wipe away the tears and ease the pain. Two kitties: one dark and one light…my chiaroscuro.