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If you had told me 2.5 years ago that I would have 40 cats cycle through my 600 sq. feet apartment in the next 2.5 years, I would have said you were absolutely out of your mind. Not because I didn’t like cats … I thought cats were fine … sometimes. But because I’ve always considered myself a dog person, and quite frankly, I had never had a cat. Plus, I was allergic.
I grew up with dogs; poodles for the most part, as my parents were allergic, too. We also had a turtle named Mozart and a chatty cockatiel named Popcorn. I spent most Saturday mornings in high school at the horse farm across the street learning to care for horses and taking trail rides up and down the mountain of our sleepy town. But cats? Never had one. My experience with cats was limited to my grandparents’ cats that never came out from under the bed or hissed any time I got too close.
After college, I found myself petsitting for neighbors’ animals, including a lab who ate absolutely anything in sight, an African Grey parrot who made the sound of an ambulance any time I entered the apartment, a diabetic cat that needed daily insulin shots, and the only cat I’ve ever known to be toilet trained (seriously, no litter boxes!). Cats started to grow on me, but I was feeling the allergies with most interactions.
Then Covid hit. My work switched from long hours in the office and frequent travel to completely remote, and suddenly I went from spending a few waking hours in my apartment to being there 24/7. By February 2021, I had gone almost a year working from home without much animal interaction at all — I wasn’t really petsitting because people weren’t really traveling, and even the casual greetings of dogs on the street, in the park, or outside a coffee shop weren’t as welcome as people were trying to stay 6 feet apart. I had noticed a few postings calling for fosters, but there was a problem: My building didn’t allow dogs, so the only possibility was cats. I was intrigued by fostering, but I had never imagined having a cat in my space and knew very little about rescue. I’m not sure what compelled me – perhaps just a result of being completely stir crazy in a cold pandemic winter – but I filled out an application for cat fostering. Within a few days, Lucky Dog responded, screened, and approved me, and I picked up my first foster Cali, a beautiful calico, just a few days later.
Two and a half years later, I just recently picked up foster #40, Elvis. From Cali to Elvis, I have experienced and learned more than I ever would have imagined – how to give medication to any cat that comes through, the art of cat nail trimming, the best ear plugs to zone out the sound of nocturnal zoomies, how picky cats can be about food or ANYTHING, how to handle hundreds of unfamiliar kittens and cats transferring in and out of crates and carriers at adoption events, how to create and post to a cat instagram account when I barely posted on my own, how to navigate DC street parking while you have a cat yelling in a carrier in the backseat, and exactly where the litter and cat food is in every single Petsmart in the DMV area.
I guess I’ve now become a cat person, too. Any empty shelf in my closet is now occupied by various scratchers, toys, and bins full of different types of cat and kitten food. I now know how to split, crush, and dilute medication in the various sizes of syringes I make sure to keep stocked for the next cat that comes in that is sick with who knows what. Of course there are times that fostering is hard and frustrating, but to see a cat completely transform from a scared, skinny, and sick cat off transport to a confident and healthy foster ready for adoption is so incredibly rewarding. That’s what fostering is about, and it’s all made possible by rescues like Lucky Dog. I had no idea.
But beyond these experiences and the wonderful cats I’ve gotten to know, it’s the people I’ve met that have continued to make fostering such a positive experience. The cat team has become such a great little community for me and I feel so lucky to have them as supporters and friends. They are truly heroes; I don’t think many understand the countless hours they volunteer each week in addition to their full time jobs. These cats and us fosters are so lucky to have such wonderful people dedicated to screening adopters and ensuring they all end up in wonderful homes.
The difficulty of saying goodbye to an awesome foster is, for me, immediately outweighed by the contagious excitement of adopters and the anticipation of what quirky personality trait my next foster might have. Some of my fosters have been adopted to people I now consider friends and it brings such joy to be able to visit or see posts on Instagram and see them thrive. But my favorite lucky dog animals aren’t limited to cats: close friends stopped by an adoption event to say hi nearly two years ago and walked out with a dog, Sandy (FKA Frisco), a forever best friend and my #1 65-pound lapcat dog.
Sandy, Elvis, Cali, and every single one of my fosters has been amazing and every one of them unique. I never knew cats to be so smart, so demanding, so entertaining, and so affectionate and cuddly. The fact that every one of my fosters were cats at risk of euthanasia in the various shelters LDAR works with brings me to tears. It breaks my heart to think of all the cats and dogs that don’t get the same chance these cats have gotten. My journey to rescue is perhaps a bit unusual and spontaneous, but I can’t imagine the last two years without it, and it has only just begun. It makes such a difference to foster — for the cats, for the dogs, for their adopters, and selfishly, for us, the fosters. Needless to say, rarely do I get a foster cat who I’m allergic to anymore, so my allergies have benefitted, too.
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