Reblog: My New Home

My New Home

 

Because I have many new followers since the  early days  of my blog, I decided to reblog this post telling of my early life.

Finally I have a home.  A fur now home.  Not fur ever. Just fur now.

I am a foster cat.  And that’s just how things are.

My name is Buddy, and until I became a foster cat I lived in Corner Brook, Newfoundland with Mommy and Poppy.  I was so happy.  We were a one cat family.  Poppy fed me from his plate at dinner and Mommy used to scold him and say “You’ve spoiled him,” and they would both laugh and look at me with eyes full of love. I slept on the floor by their bed and in the morning I would wiggle my way under the covers and snuggle between the two of them.  That was the best time of day.

Then slowly things changed.  Poppy forgot my name and twice he shouted at me and I ran under the couch and hid.  Mommy would still pet me and kiss me but I wasn’t allowed in their bed.  Then Mommy fell and broke her leg and got a wooden one. How sad I was that I had four legs and Mommy only two and yet she was the one to break one.I would have given her one of mine if I could have. But then,  it would have been too short, wouldn’t it.

One day a lady came to the house with a carrier like the one I went to the vet in.  I don’t like going to the vet so I hid under the couch again.  Mommy caught me, and, surprisingly, she started to cry and kiss me and rub my fur.  Poppy did the same.  I thought I had unknowingly been a good cat. Then she gave me to the woman who put me in the carrier. Mommy kept crying and I felt sad so I meowed ‘Don’t worry, Mommy, I’ll go nicely to the vet with the lady and before you know it I’ll be back.”  How little we know.

We drove and drove, and when we stopped the lady took me into a house, but not my house.  It was noisy…….children shouting, dogs barking. And more important, no Mommy and Poppy.  I was put into a room all alone. Dogs were growling outside my door.   I hissed and wouldn’t come out of my cage. I bit the lady.  I hardly slept all night.

Next day I was taken to the vet and again I rebelled.  I knew this was not what Mommy and Poppy had in mind.  Perhaps I was being catnapped.  I heard words I had never heard before like “foster” and  “adopt” and “Alzheimer’s”.

I spent another night in the house with the dogs.  I wasn’t quite as upset now because I knew that they couldn’t reach me, and I knew that Mommy and Poppy would find me.  Next day I was taken on another long drive to another house.  Thank goodness it had no other animals and only one lady.  I was not barred in a room so I explored the entire house, scouting escape routes.  Apparently a man lived in this house too but he ignored me.  I am going to bed now in my own room.  More later.

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