We adopted out a cat named Spike back in, oh, March or so. He was a great cat, but at the time we thought my fiance was severely allergic to him. We later found out that my fiance was in fact allergic to the fleece blankets on the bed, but by that time had already found Spike a new home.
Fast forward to this past friday. We get a call from Spike's new owners. They gave us the "we're moving and can't take Spike and you told us to call if we ever wanted to give him back" speech.
So, we talked it over. We've already got five cats, and two dogs, and live in a mobile home. However, two of the cats are fosters, so they're not technically ours.
Anyway, we decided we'd take him back. I really liked Spike, he was a really cool, sweet cat.
Well, sunday morning we stopped over at their house. We were supposed to come tuesday evening, but were in the neighborhood (had gotten directions previously).
First thing I noticed when I walked up to the door was a very bad smell of animals. I'm not talking about the smell of animals, but the smell of dirty animals, litter boxes, and poo. I knocked on the door for about five minutes (I could hear a tv on inside) and finally somebody I didn't recognize opened the door. I told him who I was, and why I was there. Problem was that I had to shout, as I heard at least six or seven dogs barking.
Imagine this, the apartment is about 15ftx30ft, and that's being generous. It somehow managed to contain two bedrooms, a living room, and a bathroom. There was no kitchen, just a stove and a microwave in the living room. I couldn't see a clean surface anywhere, and there were three people sleeping strewn about in the living room area.
Spike was in the corner of the living room, and the guy brought him over to me. Immediately I noticed that he felt very greasy and just plain dirty. The girl that had called me finally stumbled half asleep out of her bedroom and wandered over to a dresser (in the living room) and brought out the bed and pink cube I had given her with Spike. The bed was atrocious, covered in what I don't even want to think of.
I was so shocked I didn't say hardly anything, just backed away slowly, clutching my dear, poor Spike with all my might. My fiance grabbed the cube and bed, and shoved them in the back of the car. I got in, holding Spike, and cried apologetically to him the whole way home.
These people seemed nice enough when I met them, and now I'm terrified to adopt out my two wonderful foster kitties. Both of them need special, patient people, and I don't know how I'm going to find the right people for them. Spike got a bath as soon as he got into the house, and we washed the bed twice. He's much cleaner, and seems happier already. He even remembered our cat Julius, and our dogs.
I just feel bad because I left him in these conditions for the past six months, I really hope I can make it up to him, he deserves much better than that.
Thanks for reading my novel, I just needed somebody to talk to.
Here's a picture of Spike if anyone's interested: http://s143.photobucket.com/albums/r...t=PHOT0072.jpg
Fast forward to this past friday. We get a call from Spike's new owners. They gave us the "we're moving and can't take Spike and you told us to call if we ever wanted to give him back" speech.
So, we talked it over. We've already got five cats, and two dogs, and live in a mobile home. However, two of the cats are fosters, so they're not technically ours.
Anyway, we decided we'd take him back. I really liked Spike, he was a really cool, sweet cat.
Well, sunday morning we stopped over at their house. We were supposed to come tuesday evening, but were in the neighborhood (had gotten directions previously).
First thing I noticed when I walked up to the door was a very bad smell of animals. I'm not talking about the smell of animals, but the smell of dirty animals, litter boxes, and poo. I knocked on the door for about five minutes (I could hear a tv on inside) and finally somebody I didn't recognize opened the door. I told him who I was, and why I was there. Problem was that I had to shout, as I heard at least six or seven dogs barking.
Imagine this, the apartment is about 15ftx30ft, and that's being generous. It somehow managed to contain two bedrooms, a living room, and a bathroom. There was no kitchen, just a stove and a microwave in the living room. I couldn't see a clean surface anywhere, and there were three people sleeping strewn about in the living room area.
Spike was in the corner of the living room, and the guy brought him over to me. Immediately I noticed that he felt very greasy and just plain dirty. The girl that had called me finally stumbled half asleep out of her bedroom and wandered over to a dresser (in the living room) and brought out the bed and pink cube I had given her with Spike. The bed was atrocious, covered in what I don't even want to think of.
I was so shocked I didn't say hardly anything, just backed away slowly, clutching my dear, poor Spike with all my might. My fiance grabbed the cube and bed, and shoved them in the back of the car. I got in, holding Spike, and cried apologetically to him the whole way home.
These people seemed nice enough when I met them, and now I'm terrified to adopt out my two wonderful foster kitties. Both of them need special, patient people, and I don't know how I'm going to find the right people for them. Spike got a bath as soon as he got into the house, and we washed the bed twice. He's much cleaner, and seems happier already. He even remembered our cat Julius, and our dogs.
I just feel bad because I left him in these conditions for the past six months, I really hope I can make it up to him, he deserves much better than that.
Thanks for reading my novel, I just needed somebody to talk to.
Here's a picture of Spike if anyone's interested: http://s143.photobucket.com/albums/r...t=PHOT0072.jpg
