Litquake is over – it was a huge success – and I’m now in the Pacific Northwest at my friend’s cabin for decompression, writing, recovery from a year that has absolutely crushed me with stress. As thrilled as I am to have a week to myself, not having feline energy around me leaves me feeling slightly bereft and at loose ends. And I’m spending way too much time checking in on the ferals, the housecats, Mocha and her raw food diet, Mickey and his babysitters, and of course, my dear, departed Pokey.
Before I left, I took him to his new home. As thrilled as I was that someone other than me was opening their heart to my cranky old foster, I was anxious for his future. We agreed that it would be a trial placement, and I was encouraged that he immediately allowed them to touch him without hissing.
It’s been about a week now, and based on frequent texts and emails, his adaptation to his new home has been… rocky. And painfully slow. After a few quiet days, he got pissed. And has, on occasion, hissed and even swatted at his new parents. My girlfriend was upset about it; she has been dealing with a lot in her life, and I think had hoped that Pokey would be something she could cuddle – and quickly. Instead, he had other ideas. He’s not succumbing quietly to their efforts at charming and calming him. Pokey’s new dad apparently even slept in Pokey’s room last night, and said he was up for an hour, roaming around and meowing loudly.
Was he looking for me? The idea of it makes the lump rise in my throat as I write this. I facilitated this adoption so Pokey could be happier: have more space, more people to love him, fancier digs. I know if he stays there, he’ll forget the 18 months he spent in my care and indeed forget about me (hooboy there goes the lump again) but the transition is bound to be rough. Seven years feral and I was the only human he had bonded with. But we shall see – animals never cease to amaze me with their ability to adapt and open themselves to love.
In order to make life easier on my petsitter, I also installed Mickey Blue Eyes with a coastal rescue group before I left, and he is doing fine! Not happy about being in a confined area, but allowing himself to be petted and cuddled. I’ll take him back when I get home so I can finish the socialization process and help find him a home. He’s so darling and healthy, I can’t imagine it will be too daunting a process. The thought of him makes me smile, gives me purpose, makes me feel less blue about The Pokester.
Saint Francis, watch over my old boy, and help him calm himself long enough to open his heart to be loved again.
Oh Pokey! I am going to think of him now too. They don’t forget. Pokey will not forget. He is with caring people. Breathe, you have done everything you can do and done it for his benefit. Raina still walks around at night, talking. They communicate with nature. Try and enjoy your time quiet there and homecoming will be sweeter.