Today, I dropped my little foster kitten off at the cat rescue. He'll be cared for medically, go to another temporary foster home, and see many more people who will be more likely to adopt him. And I'll have room for another foster kitty.
This is great, but bittersweet, news. I felt guilty leaving him at the rescue because he won't understand where I've gone. I think it's easier for them to bounce back from that type of thing when they're kittens, but I felt especially bad with this foster because he seemed really bonded to me.
When he was littler, he would cry and meow if he couldn't see me, if I left the room, or if he felt insecure in general. He rode on my shoulder, tried to nurse my finger (ouch), and was just very attached and affectionate. He still meows if I'm behind a closed door. Or rather, he did. It was hard to close the door of the rescue center and drive home without him.
Over the holiday, he did really well with all the new people -- and even cats -- he encountered. I'm sure he'll be a great candidate for adoption, even if he can be a scaredy-cat initially. It's just hard to feel a sense of closure on this particular foster kitten because his story hasn't ended in adoption (yet).
The other foster cats I've had all found homes, whether right away after I fostered them or after a little while. I'm sure Sir Topaz, the kitten with beautiful golden-brown, star-patterned eyes who lets you clip his nails (!!!), will find a home. Fostering is an emotional rollercoaster, but ultimately rewarding.
I took a few videos of him, which I'll upload. One I already did -- my first foray into CatTube! I'll link it here.
This post crossposted on my ko-fi and patreon pages.
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