One Sunday afternoon, the shelter foster coordinator approached me and asked if I could temporarily foster a kitten who had been unexpectedly returned to the shelter that day. Kittens were not allowed to stay in the shelter, around older cats, to protect them from shared diseases. I told her very sternly that I was NOT a foster home. I had three cats in a small living space and no room for more. She was desperate and kept insisting until I relented and agree to take home this kitten, temporarily, until a more suitable foster home could be found.
Once I agreed to this, I went over to meet the little guy. He had been adopted by an older couple who had found him just too much to handle and at four months of age, he was back in the shelter system again. His cage was covered by a towel, usually done to help cats feel more secure. I carefully lifted the towel and found my self face to face with a LARGE kitten, alternating between hissing and emitting a low growl. Oh boy. What did I get myself in to?
He came home and I settled him into the only spare room I had. To make sure he had some company, I alternated sleeping in my regular bed with my family (which was my sofa) and on the floor in his room with him. He was very affectionate, and would body slam himself against me as he laid down to sleep with his entire body pressed against mine. Although he was full of frenetic energy, he was easy to love.
Days turned into weeks as we worked to find him his new home. Eventually a very nice young couple adopted him, hoping he would be a good companion for their female feline. I liked them very much and felt we had found for him a good family.