Today, I am pleased to have a guest blogger, but first, let me give you some background.
We are a foster family for the Calgary Humane Society. In mid-December, I went to pick up a lone black kitten, for socialization and weight gain. Easy. Unfortunately, there was a paper mix up, and I stared at a picture of a black and white kitten, one that we had purposely NOT chosen because his write up said that he was shy and scared, and wouldn’t do well in a busy house.
When I went to retrieve him, there were five black letters written on his cage:
F - E - R - A - L. I did not know completely understand what this meant. At the back of the steel enclosure crouched the most miserable looking kitten I had ever seen. Fur was matted in balls around his neck like bobbles on a necklace, and his nose, covered in dirt looked as if he had been using it to dig his way out of prison. But the most remarkable thing about this kitty, was his eyes—as wide as a full moon on a dark night. I recognized the fear, and it shot into me like a surge of adrenalin.
Unable to grab this fiery feline, I asked for assistance. Jenn, the Foster Program Coordinator, threw a blanket over him, scooped him, and pitched him into the carrier like an abductee. I watched in horror. I carried him to the van wondering what I had gotten us into.
The wretched kitten took f-o-r-e-v-e-r to warm up to us, well most of us. Laurèn immediately jumped in; she wore double magic gloves, and told the kitten that she knew he wanted to be loved, but that he was scared. Then, she scooped him in a fleece blanket, and cradled him in her arm like a baby. She rubbed behind his ear, and he immediately started to purr. His saucer-like eyes looked up at her with adoration. I stared at her, amazed by her lack of fear. Within days she had trained him to come when she snapped her fingers. Laurèn continued slowly and patiently with him.
After two months, and an unbelievable transformation, I returned him to the shelter. Laurèn said goodbye to him, and loaded him into his carrier. She cried openly. When I bent down to pick up the carrier, he jumped and hissed, and struck out between the bars at me. It broke my heart; he had come so far, and in an instant, he snapped back to his feral state. I covered the carrier and took him to the van.
Three days after his return, the Foster Coordinator contacted me to tell me that Champ (our foster) had gone into full attack mode, after recovering from his neuter surgery. She said that Animal Health staff were unable to handle him, and check his incision. She asked if I would be able to bring Laurèn in to see if Champ would relax. Champ was being considered for the Barn Cat program, and not for adoption.
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I would like to introduce my guest storyteller. Laurèn will turn thirteen this week, she has always had an affinity for animals. She is one of my delightful daughters. 
We cautiously walked into the room filled with box size cat apartments. There was constant mews and meows that sounded like crying and wailing. Jenn, who is the foster program coordinator at the shelter, opened one of the cages and I could see a familiar, tiny black and white face peering out from underneath the blanket. Jenn carefully peeled back the blanket; she wore gloves that looked like they belonged to an eagle trainer (she had to use them because he had gone into full attack mode). The black and white kitten flew backwards and gave a spitting hiss at her before fleeing to an opening that led to his litter box.
He growled long and hard and I stepped in hoping he would remember who I was. I snapped my fingers and he immediately stopped growling and watched as I snapped again, his arched back lowered. I snapped a few more times and he started to mew. I reached through the opening and stroked his head and he pushed against my hand. Then he walked confidently out from where he was hiding, back to the main compartment, and fell right over and started to purr.
A smile crossed my face as Jenn and the cleaners in the room stared at me with mouths that seemed to drop to the floor and eyes wide as baseballs. I picked up the kitten and cradled him in my arms. He purred louder and turned his head to look up at me with tired, pleading eyes. I whispered “I missed you Champ.” He gave a mew as if to say “I missed you too.”
After playing and cuddling Champ for awhile we said our goodbyes and put him back in his kennel. My heart melted when he started wailing for us to open the door and pet him again. It kind of reminded me of my favorite quote , “an animal reaches for your hand but touches your heart”. But Champ didn’t just touch my heart, he grabbed it and wore it around his collar.
So the next week Champ came home with us—furrever—and he now comes in to my room every morning and wakes me up for school.
