Here are a couple of pictures of Lily, the cat who I am “fostering to own.” I think the own part is happening, as much as one can “own” a cat. Lily is a rescue cat who is likely to have been abandoned before she had been spayed, got pregnant and was found by someone when she came around w/ her kittens. The kittens, when they were ready to be adopted, were snapped up immediately. Lily meanwhile was languishing in a room by herself, because she doesn’t like other cats, in a home of 30 some cats. Because of that and possibly abuse, she wasn’t showing well. After a year of that, the rescue agency was ready to put her on a cat farm.
I was willingl to take a chance on her and asked to meet her. I met her at the house of 30 cats which was a nice, big house but, despite probably lots of care and cleaning, still was obviously a cat house. It was a bit before Kristen could get Lily down from her perch but when she came down, I put my hand out to let her smell and rub her face on it if she wished and that’s what she did. We hung out in the room for about 20 minutes at which point I felt I was ready to bring her to my apartment for a test drive. We filled out some paperwork regarding the fostering, packed up a couple of Lily’s toys and, after considerable difficulty getting her in a cat carrier, I headed home w/ her.
Kristen and Pam, the owner of the pet rescue company, suggested I put Lily in a small room like the bathroom by herself for a few days to let her adapt. How that was supposed to help escaped me but they are the pros. NTL, I let her out of the carrier, set up the cat litter and food, and let her roam. As cats will do from my experience, she checked out almost every corner of my apartment, found the cat box and the food, and settled in. She was all over me looking for attention and within hours was up on the sofa with me and at night in the bed w/ me.