Jinx and Fu have moved out of the house. The transition was a long time coming, but it was necessary, so one month ago, I posted the following on Facebook:
Jinx and Fu need a new home. We thought we had lined up a home with someone they know and love, but it fell through. They really can’t live here much longer, and I really don’t want them to go to a shelter.
They are sisters and litter mates, and we became their foster parents four years ago, when they were 8 years old. They are super affectionate: Jinx (long hair) loves to be picked up and cuddled and given belly rubs; Fu (short name, short hair) loves to curl up and nap on you and adores being brushed. They both love to play and are vocal when they want your attention. They are in perfect health. They are indoor cats, though we let them out on our back deck since it is so high.
If you or anyone you know would be willing to take two cats who are sweet and beautiful (and vocal and need lots of attention), let me know. (They are bonded to each other, so I’d love them to stay together.) They have their own incredible cat tree/ condo/ scratching post extravaganza, which of course goes along with them.
Luckily for us, the person they know and love (at the home that had fallen through) decided to make it work rather than lose the cats to someone else. I feel incredibly blessed that they are now in a place where they will be cared for and appreciated.
Because, frankly, they were not receiving that appreciation while living here with us.
We knew it was a mismatch from the very beginning. David is super sensitive to noise – as anyone who has ever brought their kids over to play can verify – and these cats never stopped meowing. Ever. Well, unless they were asleep (or, apparently, posing for pictures). So when they were happy (meow!), or sad (meow!) or frightened (meow!) or mad (meow!) or excited (meow!) or glad (meow!), their interjections never failed to let you know.
Since we had made a commitment to take the cats in when their owner moved overseas, it seemed to me that we should find a way to make it work. We had the cats sleep in the garage at night (as they would literally meow all night long), which solved one major problem: we were incredibly sleep deprived the first few months. Fu, especially, was so noisy at night, it was like having a newborn in the house. But, of course, it didn’t solve the whole situation.
As soon as the former owner returned to Portland, I asked him – multiple times – to please take the cats back, but he didn’t. That was fair – he had no responsibility to do so – but it was disappointing.
David lived with the noise for four years. Many, many times over those years, he expressed how hard it was for him, how he was avoiding coming home after school because the noise was getting to him so much, how resentful he felt towards the cats and – ultimately – toward me for insisting we get them and keep them.
I realized that because the noise didn’t affect me the same way, I hadn’t been taking his discomfort seriously enough. He was more than just annoyed by the cats. He truly hated to be in the house with them if he had to listen to them. Although I loved the cats (Fu, especially) and felt responsible for them, I had to admit that their ability to live in our home should not trump David’s ability to live here peacefully.
Still, it wasn’t easy to let them go. Although David felt we could just open the front door and let them out to fend for themselves – I think he was kidding – I wanted them to go to a home that was as good as ours, if not better. (I mean, heck, they weren’t all that fond of Bones, so they might consider it a boon to get out of here.)
It was easier said than done, though. I didn’t want them to go to the Humane Society or to some random stranger on Craigslist, as I feared for their lives with either of those options. No cat re-homing agencies I found would take cats of such advanced age. I asked anyone who complimented their beauty, but got no takers.
I finally resorted to the Facebook post, which inspired Addison to welcome them in. I have visited them a couple of times in the last month, and they all seem to be doing well. I felt like a non-custodial parent coming for a visit, arms full of toys and treats I thought they might like. I was amused a week later by a photo that showed a puffy pink bed lying empty, right beside a very-comfortable Jinx reclining in a cardboard box.
I’m so glad they are feeling right at home. I miss them around here.
Inspired by this week’s Challenge Prompt: “Animal.”