After I said goodby to Purrlie, I decided to take some time off from doing foster cat care. She’d had so many health problems that I was tired from the constant worry. I’ll give myself a month to rest, I thought.
Four days later, my friend Christine called. She was in a Fred Meyer parking lot next to a busy four-lane road, and she had just found a frightened little cat. Chris’s husband died two weeks ago, she’s caring for her mother, she works out of town a lot, and she already has a house full of rescued animals. She asked if I could possibly foster a cat. Of course I said yes.
Chris and I took Sweetpea to my vet the next day. She had no microchip. She did have fleas, ear mites, and diarrhea. Unlike Purrlie’s problems, all of those are easily treated and Sweetpea is doing fine. She’s a petite, silky cat with a squeaky meow. She lets me know if I’m too slow in serving her meals, and she also purrs and rubs on my ankles every time I enter the cat room.
No, I don’t plan to keep her. If I start adopting the foster cats, I’ll have to quit fostering. I broke that rule with Purrlie only because she had no other option. Sweetpea gets her first vaccines next week (she was so skinny that the vet wanted her to have good food for awhile before she got vaccinated) and then she’ll be ready for a permanent home. And I will be ready for a (brief?) rest from foster care.