I see her between the bars of my cage. She draw nearer and my heart races. Will she touch me? Will she be the one - the one of the hundreds of people that pass through - that will take me home? My ginger ears prick forward and I rub my side against the wires. When I see her looking down at the yowling kitten in the cage beneath me my hear sinks from where it was bobbing earlier. I’m not young and sweet like the kittens that get brought here so often. Only every so often do I get second glances.
I hear the kittens door open, and the screaming stops immediately, replaced by a soft purr. I know the kitten deserves a home just as much as I do, but I can’t help wishing someone would hold me and cuddle me; talk to me in comforting voices like she was to the kitten. All I want is someone to love me. The shelter volunteers all do, I know, but there is only so much one person can do in a room full of cats that crave to be touched.
“Sh, you’re coming home with me, little one,” she murmurs, running her finger down the kittens nose. It closes its eyes and relaxes in her arms. I wish someone would hold me like that.
Only a few short minutes later, she ushers the kitten out of the door and into the waiting car. I press my face against the bars, ignoring the fur that had stuck there from many occasions of trying to reach out to people, and am just able to catch a last fleeting glimpse of the car pulling out and disappearing.
A small mew of distress escapes from me and I finally return to my blanket. Maybe next time it would be my turn.
*
I wrote this on an urge a few minutes ago for "my" cats at the shelter. May you all find forever homes soon, babies!
I hear the kittens door open, and the screaming stops immediately, replaced by a soft purr. I know the kitten deserves a home just as much as I do, but I can’t help wishing someone would hold me and cuddle me; talk to me in comforting voices like she was to the kitten. All I want is someone to love me. The shelter volunteers all do, I know, but there is only so much one person can do in a room full of cats that crave to be touched.
“Sh, you’re coming home with me, little one,” she murmurs, running her finger down the kittens nose. It closes its eyes and relaxes in her arms. I wish someone would hold me like that.
Only a few short minutes later, she ushers the kitten out of the door and into the waiting car. I press my face against the bars, ignoring the fur that had stuck there from many occasions of trying to reach out to people, and am just able to catch a last fleeting glimpse of the car pulling out and disappearing.
A small mew of distress escapes from me and I finally return to my blanket. Maybe next time it would be my turn.
*
I wrote this on an urge a few minutes ago for "my" cats at the shelter. May you all find forever homes soon, babies!