Getting ready in the rescue’s bathroom has become second nature to me. We always keep an extra pair of tweezers in there and a subtle violet body spray that accentuates my natural Omega scent. A curling wand stays under the sink so I can quickly undo my ponytail and make my blonde hair presentable.
I walk into that bathroom in light wash jeans and a sweatshirt with the Furs and Purrs logo on it and emerge someone that’s ready to make at least a couple hundred dollars in tips for the night.
When I’m feeling a little feisty, I add an extra sprinkle of glitter to my cheeks and eyelids.
My outfit planning is interrupted by the electronic chiming of our door and a distressed older woman walking in, a cat carrier under her arm.
“Hi there,” she says, a little breathless. “Can you girls help me? I found these little ones outside of a coffee shop near my house.”
Piper leaps into action, rounding the corner of the front counter while Alvin hops down, curious at the new arrivals. A resounding chorus of sweetmewssound from the black mesh carrier, and Maeve lets out a small “aww.”
One thing I’ve learned since working here—kittens never stop.
They spawn in the most random places, and every time I think I’ve heard it all, it’s something new.
They can be anywhere—someone’s wall, a box in a garage, the undercarriage of a car—they never stop showing up.
Piper educated me on the cat distribution system, but it never ceases to amaze me.
The woman places the carrier on the counter, and Piper unzips the top.
Out jump three cream and orange colored kittens, meowing and cautiously exploring the counter.
“Did you happen to find the mother anywhere?” I ask the woman, who shakes her head. “That’s fine. We can set up a trap there for her.”
“They look around five to six weeks,” Piper says, gently petting the one with the striped orange tail. “And a little skinny. We’ll get them fed.”
“Can you take them?” the woman asks hopefully.
Piper nods. “We have room right now, and we should be able to get them adopted out. Or, you could foster them until we find homes. Have you ever fostered before?”
The woman, who I recognize as an Omega based on her scent, nods tentatively. “I have. I mean, I wouldn’t mind doing it again, now that my children are out of the house and it’s just my husband and me.” She turns to the kittens, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “It would be nice to have company at home.”
“We can give you a box of supplies to make it easy,” I add as a kitten makes its way toward me. I hold out my hand and navigate the creature away from the keyboard at my desk. “And we’ll stay in contact with you during the process.” But my gentle redirection doesn’t help, and I end up with the kitten pressed against my chest, shedding fur on me in the process.
We go through at least a lint roller a day at the rescue. It’s at the point where we add them to our online wishlists.
“There’s no pressure,” Maeve adds, still clutching the sleeping black kitten. “But itdoesget addicting. You end up wanting to keep all of them.”
I smile softly, still marveling about Maeve’s ability to connect with everyone that comes into the rescue. She’s the sister of Piper’s packmate, Avery, and just like her brother, she’s an excellent communicator.
And based on the older woman’s reaction to Maeve’s words, I know we’ve officially added another foster to our growing list of people willing to help the cats of Luna County.
“I’m Beth,” the woman says fondly, looking to me.
“I’m Blair, and that’s Piper and Maeve,” I reply, nodding to each of my friends. “And welcome to the cat community. Once you’re here, you’re stuck in it,” I warn her.
Beth raises a grey eyebrow. “I can’t wait,” she says.
Beth leavesthe rescue with the kittens in tow, a box of fostering supplies tucked into the backseat of her car, and wearing a teal Furs and Purrs sweatshirt.
Ever since Piper’s pack bought the building from our greedy ex landlord, we’ve been able to invest in the rescue properly. Our cat playroom is spacious with multiple cat towers and ledges built into the wall for the cats to explore on. Our supply closet is full of food, litter, medicine, and other donations from the public. We share the building with a low-cost vet clinic, which not only helps cats but also the other animals in Luna County. We’ve even been able to donate to other rescues across the state and take in overflow of cats in need from other counties.
It's a dream setup, and it’s all because of Piper’s pack.
I couldn’t be more grateful to my best friend who insisted I be co-owner with her. The rescue has given me a purpose beyond just making a living. My business degree has come in handy through all of this, and I’ve set the goal of making Furs and Purrs the most efficient and resourceful rescue in the country.
I’m turning into a crazy cat lady like Piper, and I’m not ashamed.
