The week got away from me and I missed last night's post.  I'm sorry.  Things have been so crazy for the last week and I was completely focused on a doctor's appointment tomorrow because I missed one a couple of weeks ago.  We were in the middle of a crisis and I lost track of the days then too.  The rest of this may explain why.

I can’t really complain too much about A and his things, because I have them too, but once in a while our things butt heads with one another and it’s awful.  A has a hard time adjusting to new pets.  When he was about ten we lost his favorite cat.  At that point all of the cats we had were there when he was born so he grew up with them.  When Natasha died though he lost his best friend.  She was wonderful, didn’t play favorites, just made sure everybody got loved in turn.  My husband and I were at work when A called to say something was wrong with her.  I went home to check it out and took her to the vet.  They wanted to keep her overnight and try giving her fluids.  The next morning when they checked on her she was gone.  Later that year my husband went to California to work temporarily and brought home a new cat.  A wasn’t ready.  He was upset that his dad would bring home a new cat to take Natasha’s place.  We tried explaining that she couldn’t do that.  She came to make a place of her own with people who would love her.  It still took over a year before he could really be affectionate to her.

When he and I came here we had three cats with us, two he’d grown up with and the new one.  The two old ones died within a month of each other.  The mama ex-feral cat I have now had a batch of kittens out on our porch.  All but one of them disappeared by the time they were two months old.  One night she and his dad and another stray that hung out with them left the poor little guy all alone out on the porch and he was crying up a storm.  Mama cat had been helping me acclimate him to touching, petting, and picking up for cuddles.  He was so sad, and LOUD!  So he came in the house.  A didn’t like it because he was “dirty.”  He’d been outside.  It was over a year before he would pet him and be nice.  Until then he chased him and made very unfriendly noise at him.  A doesn’t remember that because they the best of pals now.

After we moved out of my boyfriend’s house I went back and caught Mamacat and her latest batch of kittens.  Two out of three survived that time.  Again, A can’t stand them and is mean to them because they were outside.  Mama was pregnant again when I caught her and she had the kittens on the floor of my bedroom.  I found homes for all but one of those kittens and one of the middle kittens I’d caught with her died when she was ten months old.  That was two years ago.  Now he tries to pet the youngest one and can’t figure out why she runs.  I couldn’t be because he’s spent most of the last two years chasing her and yelling at her.  Anyway our family now includes the one my husband brought from California, Mamacat and one “kitten” from each of her three litters.  The oldest of the younguns is A’s pal, the other three are afraid of him, though Mama lets him get away with quite a bit.

Enter our landlord.  We have pretty much avoided inspections because A gets freaked out and doesn’t calm down for a week at the mere prospect of someone who is not him and is not me coming into our apartment. The manager let me write a letter explaining the situation and asking that they skip our apartment.  Most of the time they respect that. Well, we were out one day.  Mamacat and the two were shut up in their room.  It was a hot day and the place smelled.  The litter boxes are right by the door as you come in.  So when I went to pay my rent (instead of saying something two weeks ago when it happened) I was told they would have to go or we’d be evicted.  So I am running my self ragged trying to find a place for them to go.  It’s killing me because when I make a commitment to an animal it’s for life.  They become like my children.  Because A doesn’t like them and doesn’t want them here he’s overjoyed at the prospect of them being gone and dismayed that I’m not doing something every waking minute to get rid of them.  I have called a rescue.  They haven’t called me back.  All they have is voicemail.  The local shelter is not a no-kill for cats and I am not going to turn them over only to have two years of my hard work and love walked into a euthanasia room.  Not only that they have a fee to take them.  If I’m going to pay a fee I’d rather board them. That same fee will pay for three days of boarding.  A says “that’s not an option.”  I can’t blame him because he’s truly afraid of being homeless.  I’ve called my boyfriend, who has always been on my side when it comes to cats.  He was with me when both of my babies died and the age of 18 and 17.  He held me while I cried.  He knows.  Why doesn’t my own son, who has been with me since birth and grew under my heart not understand I can’t just through them out to be eaten by coyotes or whatever is out there?  They were here for TWO YEARS without a problem.  What am I supposed to do?  Anybody who says “They’re only cats” without suggesting a real solution will be booted off.  They are not ONLY cats.  They are loving, living creatures who depend on me and deserve loving homes.  Why should I have to give them up because I love them and A doesn’t?  Why does he get to make the rules all the time when I’m supposed to be in charge?  Along with all of this I've been breaking my back trying to get as much cat hair out of the carpet as I can because I'm having the carpet cleaned.  I was planning to do it anyway before the manager gave me the bad news.  I seldom have enough to buy groceries let alone have the carpet cleaned.

UPDATE: I never found a home for them.  The cats are back with me after being boarded for a week.  My wonderful, supportive boyfriend paid the boarding fee for me when my card wouldn’t work and was frozen.  That’s another $500 I owe him on top of many, many other bail-outs.  A is beside himself with fear.  Three days after the cats came home we got another notice and he’s still in a panic.  They are installing carbon monoxide detectors in apartments that are all electric and have no CO emissions.  He asks me everyday what are we going to do with the cats if there’s another inspection and when they come to install the detectors.  I have no answers.  I can only take it one day at a time as it presents itself.  I’ve been looking for rent-to-own homes hoping we can move out of here and have the freedom to take care of ourselves and our cats without intrusion from others.  My credit is so bad though I don’t know how I can do it.  All I can do is hope and pray.