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Three months ago, we adopted a cat we named Ollie. We didn't start out to adopt a cat, not really. I'd read a plea in the local newspaper from the county animal shelter for foster families to help overcrowding at the shelter. They had taken in 150 animals in the previous week. I was astounded! I first simply mentioned this amazing fact to my husband, who didn't respond. The next day, I suggested that we should help. Still no response. It took a couple more mentions for him to finally agree to my completing the foster application--It was complete within hours. That Saturday we took a trip out to the Williamson County shelter "just to look" at the kitties. After taking three adult cats to the meet and greet room for a few minutes, we zeroed in on a gray male tabby about two years old, which the shelter staff had named "Ronnie" (Shudder! What an awful name for a cat!). We completed the foster agreement and left with our temporary charge and a two-week commitment. We faithfully discharged our contract but refused to call him Ronnie. We didn't let him go outside; we fed him the dry food they provided. Nearly two weeks in, we finally allowed ourselves to think of more fitting names, and when I called the shelter to say we'd decided to keep Ollie, they weren't really surprised. I suspect the whole "foster" (wink, wink) thing is a front for their adoption program. Needless to say, having a cat in the house again presents some logistical challenges, especially where our dog Bella is concerned. When we brought Bella home from Chouteau Pound Pals in 2015, she was joyously welcomed by our cat Zelda, who just loved her. I suspect when we lost Zelda in 2019 Bella expected to live out her life as an only pet. A feline treat and affection competitor wasn't on her agenda. She's a sweet girl, though, and she yields to Ollie in many ways. When he noses up to her bowl of kibble, she simply tries to get it all down faster (as if that were possible), but she doesn't growl. When he positions himself at her side to beg for scraps in the kitchen, she waits patiently for the chance to clean up his leavings. She tolerates his licking her paws, her face, and her ears--but only for so long! A dog has her standards, and being bathed by a pesky cat is a no-no. But oooh, right there, under my ear flap, yeah, that's okay... For the most part, we've settled into the new routine and Ollie has wormed his way into two (and a half) hearts at our house. Ollie and Bella keep us both exercised and entertained; we, in turn, keep them well fed and well loved. A peaceable kingdom in the time of Covid. --Janice
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January 2022
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