Shelter Visit

To say I jumped full force into adopting a cat was the biggest understatement of the century. I went online (yes I was online by then) and looked up every fucking shelter on the island. Made some calls, made some visits, but few had what I was looking for.  A declawed cat.  This being my first experience with an animal shelter, I was introduced firsthand to the experience of the…..crazy cat lady.  Wow were these ladies intense! 

Almost every visit went like this:

"Hello, can we help you?"

"Yes, I'm looking to adopt a cat.  I'd prefer one already declawed.  It was kind of a decision to get my parents to agree to adopting a cat."

“You don’t believe in declawing a cat, do you?”

“No, like I said, I would NEVER declaw a cat,  I would like to find a cat already declawed.”

“OK, that’s fine.  You do know that removing a cat’s claws is the equivalent of your fingertips?”

“Ouch.”

OK, OK, I get it.  Jesus, I won’t declaw a cat, but my argument is: what would you rather have, a declawed cat that has a home or a cat with claws that gets passed over?  If removing the claws, which if done young enough and properly doesn’t really do any harm to the cat,  and gets that cat a home, what’s the big fucking deal?  All of my cats have been at least front declawed and I can tell you it had no difference or bearing on their lives.  They all act, and think, like they have their claws.  I can tell you Tyler was never told, never emailed, never texted, about the fact that his claws were gone.  He acted until literally the day before he died as if he had every single claw. 

Anyway, the next shelter on my list was a big one, or so the website claimed, even though it was called….Little Shelter.

Not caring about anything else (I kind of tend to get that way when I’m on a mission to get something, I'm that way to this day) I went one late Friday after work out to Huntington, New York, to check out their “cattery” or so they called it. 

I was immediately impressed with the place. Little Shelter is one of the premier shelters on the island, and I knew almost right away that I would find my cat here.  It was just a feeling.

Parking my car I was first met with…..a pet cemetery.  Yup, it seems Little Shelter goes full circle.  Cat and dog shelter and cemetery.  Convenient I guess, get a cat, enjoy a life with it, bury it, and adopt a new one?  Interesting prospect. Morbid, but interesting.

I digress…..

I walked into the lobby and was met by a nice older lady who asked me to fill out an application. Once that was done, I was escorted to what they referred to as “the cattery.”  It was basically a house on the grounds where all the cats were sheltered and cared for.  Cats was an understatement.  At that time, I was told, they had no fewer than THREE HUNDRED FIFTY cats living in the cattery.  Now that’s a lot of cats.  I knew, I just KNEW I would find my cat here.