On to the next phase

It’s been a few weeks since I blogged. After Mocha died, I could have taken a break, but instead I hurled myself quickly into the next rescue. (And what’s that about? Do I always need a challenge? Is the best antidote to grief to plunge right back in again?) Anyway, I cleaned out the downstairs bathroom that had been Mocha’s spot since her December stroke, and the next day I brought home Little Maude.

I’d been rehearsing bringing her home by feeding her in the carrier I left in the bushes. Each day, I pushed it a little further inside, until she was aaaaall the way in. And then I closed the gate behind her. She was NOT happy – turned and hissed – but when I got her home she settled right down and took up residence in her new bed.

For two weeks she was my contented guest – always happy to see me when I visited, slept almost nonstop (poor little thing must’ve been exhausted by months in challenging circumstances) purred when she was petted, wriggled anxiously when picked up, and chatted incessantly.

Little Maude video

I took her to the vet, who kindly comped her visit, and discovered that she has no teeth!  “This kitty got some major love at one point – this is expensive dental work,” she said. So then what happened to her family? Why was she wandering alone in the ravine for months? The mystery of Little Maude will have to remain just that, as we move on with her life, and try to find her a good family. She would be great with an older person, as she’s no spring chicken herself.

I say “we” will find her a good home, because I had the incredible good fortune of an offer to foster Maude while one was sought. Robin lives north of here on the coast, and when I took Maude to her, I felt anxious, like this might be too many changes for the little girl to handle. But she has handled it with aplomb and a minimum of complaining. Robin “gets” her already and I know will do the right thing for her.

So… what’s next  on the agenda? Because I apparently can’t stand peace and relative quiet,  I’ve decided to try again to and trap Grace, the mama kitty who has given birth to far too many kittens in the last 3.5 years. She has eluded my traps too often in the past, but it is TIME. Today, as I fed her, I lingered longer than usual, trying to soothe her skittish nerves, making eye contact when possible. “Gracie, you’re coming with me soon,” I whispered to her, hoping some fraction of what I was saying would sink in.

St. Francis, it’s time to end this cycle and bring Grace home to me. Asking for your hand in mine.