Last year, there was a cat at the shelter who was rather....fractious (to put it charitably). She would rub against the bars of her kennel, behaving like she was soliciting attention; when you tried to pet her, she would hiss and swat at you.
She would often hiss and swat, and sometimes she would bite. Staff and volunteers worked with her for months. She went into foster. She made progress, though it was incremental, but it seemed very unlikely this cat would get adopted.
After kitten season wound down, she was given her own colony room in the hopes that the extra space would help her chill. When the room was needed, she was placed in a large dog kennel on a table on the adoption floor. That day the unthinkable happened - a family took her home.
We kept waiting for the return notice. So often people have unrealistic expectations about our shy and fearful cats and bring them back; it was quite likely to happen to this cat as well. Days went by. Then weeks. Despite ourselves, we got our hopes up. Maybe it worked. Maybe she really did find a home.
Five months after the adoption, her adopters sent an update. She's doing great. There are no problems. She's the best cat they could imagine.
When I think back to that defensive girl, so afraid to trust anyone, my mind boggles. This...this is the difference a home makes.
