On
the second Saturday of every month, the rescue-group of which I am a member,
the Lethbridge PAW Society, brings a cat to the downtown store of Homes Alive,
a local pet-supply company, to show off to the public for three hours. The
purpose is to generate interest not just in the cat himself, but in the group
and cat-rescue in general. I am usually the group-member on hand to answer
questions. It is a good opportunity to meet people and discuss matters of
common interest.
Yesterday,
Parker was the cat in the cage.
I
was confident that the orange boy would do well. Cats have different reactions
to being on display. Some are frightened the whole afternoon, overwhelmed by
the stimuli. These are spared any further showings. The rare ones have little
problem with the situation, and, after thirty or forty minutes of adjustment,
settle down. The majority dislike being there but are not so badly affected
that they cannot come back. Then there is Parker.

The
sturdy-boy did better than any other cat we have had on display. He was a
little bewildered by the reason for being in the cage, no doubt, and his
breathing at first was more rapid than I would have liked to have seen, but he
accepted the situation very swiftly and without much complaint. What problem he
did have, I suspect, came from being restricted to the cage, and not simply
from being in the new environment. He was a bit unnvered when the noise of
shopping carts, barking dogs (pets are allowed in the store if carried or on
leashes) and customers became too much, but that happened just the once. Otherwise,
Parker took it all in stride.

He
was a hit with everyone who came to see him. He was very friendly to his admirers
- of whom there were many – but I knew he would be. He walked over to their
fingers for some face-rubbing and head-stroking, and even rolled over for some.
He accepted two chicken treats from one generous couple (even the successful
cats on display are rarely at ease enough to eat) and indulged me in play with
a feathery wand. The various dogs in the store during his time there interested
him, though he hissed at one whose owner permitted him to come too close. (I
quickly interposed myself. When people let their dogs come near the cats, they
always say the same thing: “Oh, he (the dog) loves cats.” They don’t realise
that that does not address the cat’s concern; the latter animal is caged, with
no means of retreat, as an unknown and possibly hostile animal advances upon
him.)

But
everyone who saw Parker thought he was wonderful. They all uttered the same two
things: “Wow, he’s a big one,” and, “What a handsome fellow he is.” Both true,
of course. I talked to people about Parker’s diabetes, and how he is active and
healthy, with the condition managed. Numerous comments were made about how fit
he looked. No one there wanted to adopt him – except a crowd of young
adolescent girls, who swooned over him – but the PAW Society does not adopt
straight from such an event, anyway. We don’t want enthusiasm of the moment to
be mistaken for a correct decision. But if interest is shown, we encourage it
and follow it with conversation afterward.

The
afternoon was a success. Donations were made – undoubtedly due to the
popularity of our orange mascot – and people were met. Best of all, the cat in
question was not troubled. He was glad to come home, no doubt, but he may be
going again some day. The timing was a bit off: Parker has been my foster cat
for sixteen months, but he has just recently been added to the group’s website
(http://pawsociety.com/Parker.html).
We wanted to control his diabetes first. But now, as you may have read, his
glucose numbers are unusual. I don’t think this will cause any great trouble,
but it would be better to present him as ready for adoption without
reservations. A diabetic cat always, however, comes with concerns over his
continuing care. Not to worry, though: Parker will not be going anywhere that
won’t love him and care for him as much as possible.
Until
then, he will remain in his foster-home – with perhaps a field-trip now and
then.