Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart. (Winnie the Pooh)
Until one has loved an animal, a part of one’s soul remains unawakened. (Anatole France)
I am fostering kittens for our local cat rescue organization again, and am deep in the midst of the detritus that five little furballs can create . . . litter spread to the four corners of the room; books, papers, and anything-within-their-reach tossed hither, thither, and yon; food spread about haphazardly; and toys chewed up, spat out, and up and over. Ah, the joy!
As I listen to my knees snap, crackle, and pop as I bend over cleaning their litter box for the fourth time this day, I wonder if this is wise. But then I pick up the tamest one, and his purr rocks the house, and hey, it’s a small thing, but it floats my boat. And the others are gettin’ there with their socialization . . . when I enter the room now, they don’t ricochet off the walls with quite the degree of hysterical alarm that they did when they first arrived. And over the years that I’ve fostered, I’ve found that the shyest, most backward, fearful, or feral kitten forgets their fear, and becomes a real sweetheart when a potential adopter comes on the scene, almost like they know that it’s time to seek their fortune now. Knowing that each one of these five tiny beings will touch a person’s soul, or become an important part of a family’s life someday is more than enough incentive.
So I will continue on, and hope my knees will cooperate. As they say, it’s cheaper than analysis, and I should know.
