Your job vs. your calling

Another month has gone by without a blog post, but I can guarantee that now that Litquake 2016 is in the rearview mirror and my life has slowed down, writing time will be easier to come by. As will cat time. YAY! There is nothing more frustrating when my job gets in the way of my calling.  😉

There were so many developments – many of them wonderful – in the last month, but I scarcely had time to enjoy them, so busy was I. Here they are, in brief:

  • The two kittens rescued from the dirt road in Montara found a home with a wonderful young MAN – a friend of a friend – who has thrown himself into kitty fatherhood like no one’s business. http://bit.ly/2frIqFb  Happy happy joy joy!
  • Fonzi – the tough young tomcat with a girlie squeak who’d been loitering outside my house making Charlie’s life miserable – was trapped and fixed by me a few days after the festival ended. A real charmer and pretty sweet, Fonzi was in that grey zone of  whether to socialize or let go. img_5882-mov And then I remembered that someone had asked to adopt two CFC kittens as barn cats, but were told “no” because we wanted them to be indoors only. I reached out to her; would she like a little semi-feral? She would! And off he went to seek his fortunes on a farm with very nice, cat-loving owners.
  • Best of all perhaps, Colby-with-the-broken-toes had a major breakthrough just days before I was to leave town on vacation. His angry posture had softened to where he was not hissing every time I would bring his food. So I took a chance, reached in, and touched his head. He shrank a little, but then turned his head and leaned gratefully into my hand, so I could rub his neck, too. Of course I dissolved in tears – I had all but written Colby off as ever wanting to bond. He’s now been at a catsitter’s for a week since I left town (I could not ask my housesitter to watch my brood and him as well), and yesterday I got the word: Colby is purring!!

So miracles continue to happen, despite my clumsy actions, lack of time and occasional lack of faith. And the demands don’t stop, even when I’m away. As word about our organization spreads, we get new requests all the time. One kind soul who had been feeding a feral mama trapped and fixed her, and also found a foster home for her kittens. But because she lives in a dangerous canyon, she wants to find a home for her Monkey (the mama kitty’s name) so I’ve got feelers out. She is a funny-looking little sweetie, well-suited to her name.

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When Monkey’s caretaker writes me, she apologizes for “bothering me on vacation.” Which seems funny to me since this is what I DO – even from remote locations like my friend’s cabin on Puget Sound. On the other hand, when someone from “work” asks me for something, it feels like a huge inconvenience. Such is the difference between a job and a calling, I guess.

Yes, there are moments of sheer joy in my job – I could not do it otherwise – like hearing child poets read at 826 Valencia during the festival. But there is joy and there is tear- and gratitude-inducing recognition of your heart’s work being rewarded. Like Colby purring, or the “lost boys” finding a lovely home, or knowing you can ease animal pain and suffering, even if it’s just one or two felines at a time. Speaking of, the latest call just came in: two kittens found in a garbage dump. You can’t look in these eyes and look away. Not if you’re called to help.

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