But...Why did I decide to foster?

But…Why did I decide to foster?

I could totally blame my children. After all, I just wanted them to be happy. But then if my children were to read this post they’d cry Bullshit, Mom! You love those kittens more than we do.  You even love them more than you love us! Shhhh…. It’s true. They’re my little fur babies. The three girls I didn’t have. I had three boys. Human boys. Which I do love—but they don’t need to know that because then they’d try and use it against me for leverage—that’s another post though…

Unfortunately, my little fur babies are now growing into Gremlins. They are quite literally climbing curtains, scratching furniture, jumping on the counters, picking fights with the older cats. The list goes on… I teased Joseph that he must have fed them after midnight. Joseph, being ten, and having no idea what a Gremlin is and not understanding the concept when I explained that feeding a mogwai after midnight would turn your furry little darling pet into an evil conniving little skeletal monster with sharp nasty teeth just stared at me and then said, Gawd mom, you’re so weird.

I’ve been volunteering at the animal shelter with Joseph to teach him the concept of giving back. That’s right, you parentally induced spoiled child, time to learn to work for free all in the name of being a good Samaritan! So, I drag him (not kicking and screaming. He actually wanted to go) to the cat sanctuary, where there are over 250 cats. It is our job on Tuesday afternoon to feed all the cats wet food, replace their morning dry food with fresh afternoon servings, do laundry and clean out the litterboxes. Eeeew all 20 of them!  Want to know what Joseph said to me after our first day of volunteering? He said, Mom, how much did you pay for us to work here? That was awesome. I can’t wait to come back and help again. It’s like being in Heaven. I said, I don’t pay honey, that’s why they call it volunteering. You are offering your time and services out of kindness and compassion for other living beings. He said, well, I loooove it. 

So then, I get the phone call. Can you foster three little orphan kittens. The foster who took them in already has seven and she can’t care for ten. Sure, no problem. I sit the boys down and explain to them that they are not OUR kittens we are just going to care for them until they are SOMEONE ELSES. They nodded in unison. We got it, Mom.  So, I drove out the other foster care, and to my surprise, these little gray and black, fuzzy, adorable girls were only four days old. I would have to learn to bottle feed. And pick up a heating pad. And feed them every two hours. And be their mommy…

I knew the moment a friend, a GOOD friend, came by and held one of the kittens and said she might like to adopt one, that I was NOT giving them up. I looked at her holding MY baby and said, I don’t think she likes to be held like that. Give her back. I tell everyone that the kids got attached. Which, they did. Those girls are as much a part of our family as we all are to each other. And if you’ve ever had three kittens purring in a pile on your lap, you’d know exactly why I fostered them and exactly why I kept them. For me, it is like being in Heaven.  I don’t think I taught Joseph a lesson as much as these girls taught one to me.