Noah will be leaving me. He is not, unfortunately, going to be adopted but, rather, is going to a new foster-home.
Neither I nor the rescue-group of which I am part care to change foster-homes in mid-cat. The animals have no way of knowing that they are not in a permanent residence, and when they are adopted, the change is often significant enough. To switch their homes a couple of times before adoption takes place is jarring and confusing to the little creatures.
But there are several reasons for this move in Noah’s case. If you’ve been reading this blog lately, you know that I am selling my house. I have not yet achieved that goal but I hope to soon. This will necessitate moving to a smaller residence in which four cats and I will find ourselves in cramped quarters. A fifth will make it even more so. Even that would not be so bad, but the perma-cats’ dislike of the boy requires him to be locked up in a room alone when I am asleep or absent. This will reduce the living space further by about a third, assuming I move into a two-bedroom apartment.
Just as significant a reason, though, is why Noah must be sequestered much of the time. He is picked on by Cammie - some days all evening - and by Tucker. The foster-home to which he will go recently had two cats, who would chase and wrestle with each other. One was adopted. The remaining beast misses his friend. Noah, on the other hand, disturbs the calm of my household largely, I think, because he wants someone to play with him - and no one does. Just last night, I watched him rush at Renn, and stop short. He wasn’t attacking my big boy; he was having fun. He wanted Renn to pursue him - in play - or wrestle with him; something enjoyable. Renn growled and warned the boy off.
This is Noah’s chance to have a pal with whom he can enjoy himself. He will also be free to roam about the house when the people are gone or sleeping. (Hopefully, he doesn’t roam too much during the latter time.) I believe this will mean much to a young, energetic cat.
He will of course be confused and perhaps frightened. But he is adaptable, and finding himself in a new environment with a whole new world to explore will keep him occupied until he grows accustomed to his new foster-guardians.
I will miss the boy. He can be annoying at time, I must admit. He is usually into something. But these are the high spirits and exuberance of youth. He is a warm-hearted cat who now purrs much more than he did. He is smart and learns quickly, and above all he is entertaining. He will go to his new home - may it be of short duration before his permanent adoption - tomorrow. Peace will reign once more in my household, and the perma-cats will rest more easily. But something will be missing. Whenever a cat who has been in my care leaves, he takes something indefinable along with him, and it isn’t replaced. It’s because no cat can be replaced. Noah will be absent but his adventure will continue.