My name is Sarah, and I want to talk to you about committment

My name is Sarah. It's been a while since I saw the folks here at advoCATs. I was adopted five years ago when I was just a baby. The couple who adopted me said they were ready to make a 20 year commitment to take care of me. In return, I promised to purr when they petted me, play when they dangled toys, and comfort them when they needed it. I kept my promise and grew to be their loving companion, giving of myself, sharing my sometimes funny, sometimes curious, always interesting feline ways. We had a good thing going for a while there.

Now I'm homeless and back with the rescue. I'm trying very hard not to sound ungrateful or bitter, but a promise was broken. They brought me back to advoCATs, hoping advoCATs will find me a new home. They said I was a good cat, just a little too playful with their new baby. They weren't willing to help me learn how not to be too playful. They weren't willing to let me in on what was happening or prepare me for the little one's arrival.

I was talking to Sweet Rosie, who just came back, also. She really has no clue what's going on. She too was just a kitten when she was adopted six years ago, and had no understanding when her pet parents went their separate ways and decided their was no room in either of their lives for her. She just sits in fear - afraid and alone. It really scared her and broke her heart when the people she called her family decided to bring her back to advoCATs and left her in a room with a whole bunch of strange cats. People don't realize how much that hurts. They think "ech, she's just a cat. She'll be fine! She's so sweet, someone will adopt her an a heartbeat." Well, a lot of heartbeats have gone by, my friends. Cats like us, cats who are 5, 6, even 10 years old, we don't find homes so easily. I worry about Sweet Rosie.

And, I worry about Emerald and Cody and Abby, Rusty and Phillip, and Esmeralda and others who, after years of laps, purrs, and trust, have all become homeless because their guardians and protectors, for one reason or another, or one excuse after another, failed to keep their promise to love them and provide for them as true members of their families.

If you're thinking about adopting me, or Sweet Rosie, or maybe a pair of kittens, please be ready to make the commitment. Be ready for a 20 year friendship. Be ready for us to be with you through the really great days and the really rough ones. Be ready to take us with you if you move to a new home. Be ready to introduce us to new arrivals (no matter how many legs they have). Teach us what we need to know. Teach yourself what you need to know (I hear www.petvideo.com has some excellent segments on introducing your cat or dog to a new baby). We are members of the family too.

Make the promise to be there for us until the end. We promise we will be there with you.

Editor's Note: On October 6th, Sarah left us. She had developed Feline Hepatic Lipidosis (FHL), or fatty liver syndrome. She went into acute liver failure. She stopped eating, stopped playing, and became very sullen and depressed. She chose not to interact with anyone (feline or human) who came to talk with her. Sarah simply gave up. We have no clinical proof that being abandoned by her adoptive family is what led to her decline. But according to Cornell University College of Veterinary Medicine, "forty percent of cases [of FHL] are due to environmental changes." We've seen this happen before. Sarah made us understand that cats truly grieve when they lose their families. It affects them physically and emotionally, and both deeply.