Tucker is no longer a foster-cat; he’s been adopted. I suspect that those who know me in person are not surprised to learn that I’m the one who has adopted him.
The roly poly one came to me in the last days of September, 2010. He had been returned to the Lethbridge PAW Society, the rescue group that had saved his life long before, because the family who had kept him for five years no longer wanted him. He had been wetting outside the litter-box. He came to stay with me instead. It was a temporary measure. I had every reason to believe that it would indeed be temporary, as previous foster-cats had been.
But except for my first foster-cat, Lincoln - who was adopted quickly - and Renn - more about him below - Tucker’s predecessors were not agreeable to my permanent cats. I wouldn’t expect any new cat to be loved by them, especially Tungsten, who resents new arrivals who challenge still further her place as my only cat. But for different reasons, Wixie and Mystery, and then Devon, did not fit well in the household. The former pair, specifically Wixie, wanted to oust Tungsten as top-cat, and my orange one, though she bluffs and postures, realises that she won't win a fight against an animal twice her size. So the situation was tense and unhappy. Even Josie got into a fur-tearing brawl with Wixie. Fortunately, Wixie and Mystery were adopted and things returned to normal. I liked that pair, and would have had no trouble keeping them if it were not for the effect on the perma-cats.
Next came Renn, or Ren, as he was spelled then. He was very timid and did not stand up for himself. Thus, though Tungsten did not care for his advent, she saw that he was no threat to the stability of the kingdom. That was a problem for me, because it removed a bar to keeping Renn. I eventually adopted him.
Then came Devon, who wanted to play with everyone. No one wanted to play with him. Devon, a cross-eyed little sausage, rarely takes hiss for an answer, and kept pressing. Things became unhappy again. But luck was with us - and Devon - and he was adopted relatively swiftly. He now resides with three other cats and is just as playful as ever - but his feline roommates, though tolerating and even liking him, are not shy about putting him in his place when playing is not wanted.
And finally Tucker. If you’ve read my articles, you may recall that he had a tremendous difficulty adjusting to being evicted by his previous family. He stopped eating and drinking and had to be force-fed. When he had dental surgery, it affected him so much that he nervously licked himself raw and had to endure a cone and medicinal rubs. He was very shy, a timorous fellow, and retains his timidity. The roly poly one would have been disconcerted and confused by another change in his settings. Every cat is, of course, but some take less time to come around, some are barely affected, to all appearances. That would not be Tucker.
I felt that it would be too hard on Tucker to go to a new home. He would adjust eventually, of course. Cats have great adaptability. But it would be a relatively long time for the little fellow, and I think he would be miserable during that interval. Certainly it’s any amount of hubris to claim that he wouldn’t find a home as wonderful as mine in which to live. There are plenty of wonderful people waiting to love a pet. But Tucker is used to the other cats, and they are used to him, even if there is no love amongst them. He’s accustomed to being with me; I think he likes his home and his human. His human certainly likes him.
So Tucker is home now, and has been for a while. He may have known it all along; it took me longer to realise it.
I won’t be changing the title of this blog as it may cause some puzzlement. I won’t be changing its electronic address, either. I’m not sure I would know how. In any case, just remember from now on to add one to the three in the title. I have four cats.