Crazy Cat Lady

The animal shelter where I currently volunteer is a 45 minute drive from our house. Kevin has been encouraging me to start volunteering at another shelter which is much closer to us, so on Thursday I decided to check it out. As soon as I told the receptionist I was interested in volunteering, I was given a 2 page application to fill out. I was kind of surprised at how much personal information was required to volunteer--this application asked about my career experience, what veterinarian I use for my pets, my personal views on euthanasia, what special skills I could bring to the shelter...it even asked for a personal reference! All of these questions seemed a little invasive, but I went ahead and answered them...until I got to the question, "How many animals do you currently have?" Usually when people ask me that question, I say, "I have 2 dogs and mumble, mumble cats." I had to write a real number, though, so I took a deep breath and wrote, "I have 2 dogs and 8 cats," knowing that the shelter staff would probably take one look at my application, dismiss me as a crazy cat lady, or worse, a cruel animal hoarder, and throw my application in the trash. I know that my pets are all well fed and well groomed, that they all receive regular veterinary care, and that I scoop out the 8 litter boxes twice a day and vacuum the house once a day, but I also know that the majority of people who find out about how many cats I have think that my house must smell like a monkey cage at the zoo. (I assure you, it does not!) They also wonder how I could possibly have accumulated so many animals... here is how it happened:

This is Nekko. She is 14 years old, and she was Kevin's cat before we started dating. (Her name used to be Emily, but I insisted that we change her name. Some people suggested that I could learn a new name faster than the poor cat could, but I responded that the cat is very clever and I'm not actually all that bright, so we went ahead and changed her name to Nekko--she learned the new name quickly.)
Unfortunately, I am very allergic to cats, so in order to continue to spend time at Kevin's house, I needed to go to an allergist. I started getting weekly injections which made my alleric reaction to cats subside. Even though I went to all this trouble for Nekko, she really didn't like me at first, and I was swatted and hissed at a lot during the first couple of months. I decided that if I was going to continue with the annoyance of weekly shots, I should at least be able to have a cat that would allow me to pet it. A friend of mine had recently moved to a farm, and her new barn was full of barn cats and kittens. I only meant to adopt one kitten, but I just couldn't choose.

This is Frank. I loved his orange stripes and his spunky personality.

And this is Estelle. I thought she was adorable, no tail and all. How could I have left one of them behind in the barn? Frank and Estelle were named after Frank and Estelle Costanza from "Seinfeld" because they fought and squabbled with each other during the whole ride home. They will both be 8 in April.

Kevin and I moved to a loft in Chicago with our 3 cats, and while we said that we would really like a dog some day when we had a house with a yard, we had no intention of adding any more cats to the family. Then we moved to upstate New York. We bought a house, but it really didn't have a yard big enough for a dog, so we decided to hold off on adopting a dog. I started volunteering at the animal shelter, and the first month I was there, I met Abner. He was about 4 months old and really badly behaved. He would sink his little teeth into anyone who tried to pet him or hold him and his little eyes would squeeze shut with the force he would put into the bite. Even though he was absolutely adorable, it looked like he probably wasn't going to be adopted. I decided that maybe all Abner needed was a big house to run around in, lots of toys to play with, and some love and attention, so I brought him home. I was very wrong, and the first month we had him, poor Kevin had to sleep in leather gardening gloves to protect his hands from Abner's teeth. When friends came over, we would warn them to not make eye contact with Abner and to not make any sudden movements with their hands--most of our friends left our home unscathed, some were not so lucky. Abner did finally grow up (he is 6 years old now)and he actually turned into one of our nicest cats. He purrs like crazy all the time and he only bites a little bit!

My mom decided that she wanted to adopt a shelter cat too, so I suggested she take Toonces home. Toonces has chronic sinusitis due to turbonate damage, so he sneezes a lot. No one wanted to adopt him because of his condition, so he sat in a cage for a year at the shelter. My mom loved him, but unfortunately her dog did not. Her dog was elderly and blind, and Toonces really wanted to play and wrestle with the dog. The final straw was when my mom walked in to the kitchen to find the little dog on her hind legs in the corner, trying desperately to fend off the blows from Toonces, who was trying to engage her in a boxing match. I couldn't bear the thought of Toonces going back to the shelter, so I took him home. He was happy, and Abner was really happy to have a playmate to wrestle and attack. Toonces is now almost 7 years old.

Kevin and I and the 5 cats moved to a bigger house closer to his office in 2003. The first morning we were there, a very handsome black and white cat literally knocked on the back door. I gave him some food, and then asked the neighbors about him. Sylvester had a home once upon a time, but his elderly owner was sent to a nursing home, so he had been surviving by begging for food from the neighbors. For a couple of months, I stayed strong and didn't let him in the house. I took him to the vet to get his shots (luckily he had already been neutered), I made him a cozy bed on our front porch, and I fed him daily. Then it started to get really cold and snowy, and he would sit on our outside window sill, look in at us, and cry. Obviously, Sylvester became cat #6 in no time. We aren't sure how old he is, but the vet has estimated that he is probably 9 or 10.

Although we already had more cats than we ever intended to have, we were finally living in a house with a big back yard suitable for a dog. Kevin and I both had collies when we were little, so when Kermit the Dog came in to the shelter, it seemed like fate. He was probably about 5 years old at the time, so he is about 10 years old now. Kermit made himself at home and made friends with the cats, but it was obvious from his joyful reaction whenever he met another dog that he really would be happiest if he had a canine companion.

We tried to find another collie that was up for adoption, but when we checked the collie rescue website, we fell in love with the soulful eyes of a golden retriever/beagle/collie mix named Honey. She is now 4 years old.

We now had 6 cats and 2 dogs and we were sure that we would not take in any more pets. I still really wanted to help homeless animals, so I decided to foster pregnant cats and their kittens until the kittens were old enough to go back to the shelter and be adopted. One of the mother cats I fostered had 7 adorable black and white babies. It was amazing to watch them grow and develop, and although it was heartbreaking to say goodbye to them, I did bring them back to the shelter when they were 3 months old. 5 of the kittens were adopted quickly, but 2 of them developed ulcers in their mouths. They were sent to the sick room of the shelter for almost 2 months while their ulcers healed. By the time the kittens were well enough to be adopted, they were no longer tiny and cute and no one seemed interested in adopting them. I couldn't bear the thought of them languishing in their cage for one more day, so I brought them home.

This is Figaro.

And this is Elf. They will both be 4 in May.

10 animals is absolutely our limit, and we haven't added any more to our menagerie since 2004. All 10 of the animals moved with us to Norway in 2006, and all 10 of them moved back to New York with us in November, 2007. It makes perfect sense to me why we have the number of animals we do, but I know that to an outsider looking in, it seems weird and crazy. I'm not expecting to get a call back from the animal shelter where I applied to volunteer, I'm sure they think I'm unstable. It's fine, I enjoy volunteering at the other shelter and I really don't mind the drive. And I feel good about what I have done to help homeless animals, and what I will continue to do. I know I'm not an animal hoarder, and as Kevin has said, I'm still one divorce away from being a full-fledged crazy cat lady!