Tuesdays are my only day off right now, so I don't easily let them go ot waste. Today I arrived at the local animal shelter with a hefty donation of mostly cat food - it's that time of year, after all, when all the foster kittens are coming back, and holy shit, were there kittens.
I spent most of the afternoon there. It cracked me up that when I first walked in the cats barely opened their eyes to greet me; yeah, whatevs, another person to pet us. But as soon as I shook the treat container, all eyes were suddenly on me. One cat got so excited he fell off the window ledge. Ever had twenty cats rush you? Intimidating, to say the least.
I fell in love with two cats in particular: one, named Sashi, was a beautiful creamy white with orange points who wanted cuddles more than treats (which is cat blasphemy, by the way) and literally lept into my arms when I tried to leave. There was another, an older black male who's name I couldn't find, who was about equally as affectionate - and who I watched leave later with an old woman taking him back to the retirment home. Don't think I didn't blink back a tear.
I played with the puppies for awhile after that. I normally call all dogs "puppies", but there were a few legitimate puppies that quite ripped my heart out of my chest. Or at least licked the shit out of it. I also met two dalmations, a great Dane, and a very old yellow lab named Rocky. I have a soft spot for old animals, which explains why both my my - er, M.'s - cats are twelve and thirteen.
I've always wanted to volunteer at the shelter, and maybe now I'll have enough spare time to do it.