Two weeks ago Bart the cat headed back to the shelter. I was going to be out of town and he had procedures planned: bandage change followed by cardiology appointment. He was still very sick when I left him sneezing and bandaged. My soul hurt not knowing if he was getting better, going to be diagnosed with a fatal heart murmur, or dying from complications due to his other problems. Right before I left on my trip the shelter called: Bart was doing okay, but couldn’t go to the cardiologist until he was 100% healthy, which he was not. They mentioned he would likely need foster care again, if I was willing when I got home.
I decided I was willing. From Washington DC I e-mailed to let the foster folks know I was heading home and could pick Bart up if they needed me. An emphatic “Yes” was delivered to my inbox. When I arrived last Tuesday he was bandage free, upper respiratory infection free, but his nose was a bloody mess. Having had a snotty cold for three weeks his nasal passages were a wreck, so I was told to take him home, get the humidifier on him, and bring him back in a week if his nose stopped bleeding. Only then could he get his heart murmur evaluated. (He also can’t be actively bleeding at the cardiologist.)
Well friends, I’m here to tell you that I might not be the cat grim reaper. Look at this beauty! Bandage gone, bloody nose gone, fur free of blood, and Bart cleans up quite well. Almost a week of damp kitty humidification action and he looks like a cat that will find a home in no time.
I’m so happy. This was what my foster experience was supposed to be. The shelter and I worked in partnership to make Bart well. I’ll take him back Tuesday night and the cardiologist will evaluate him Wednesday. If all goes well he could be up for adoption Wednesday night. This boy could have a new home by Christmas, and I’m actually hopeful for the first time in my foster career. The best part is that even though he loves my daughter I don’t feel like he’s our family’s cat. While I’ll be sad when we leave him Tuesday it all worked out the way it was supposed to: Bart was sick, we got him healthy and he and his huge purr will make some family an amazing pet. I still don’t think that this is the best way for our family to help make the world a better place, but I feel healed knowing that our first litter was bad luck, not some kind of horrible cat curse.
If you are in the Denver area and in search of a new cat, drop me a message. I can hook you up with a winner. Mr. Bart will steal your heart away.
Afthead 
He is a gorgeous cat! So glad to hear he is doing well! 🙂
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Great news! He sure is handsome.
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YAAAY!
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Yay Bart and Johanna’s cat karma!
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Roxie thinks you are very kind to cats. Unlike what she has experienced here. (She’s still angry about losing her three teeth at the dentist in November and holds m e responsible for it all.) ZuZu likes this happy ending much better then the previous kitty fiasco story.
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Oh Roxie. Our cat Katie, who lives with us all the time, had to have ALL her teeth removed a year ago. So you shouldn’t think too kindly about me. I’ve got cat teeth removing tendencies too! Unfortunately, this isn’t the ending of the Bart story, but my heart isn’t ready to put the last bit out there yet. Don’t let ZuZu read the last installment. Let her think it ends here.
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Dear Joanna, I think I’ll keep Mom away from the post, too. Although that will be very hard to do, as she loves reading about the goings on around your house. Take care and I hope you have some smiles coming your way. You deserve it!
Your friend, Roxie D.
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Yay! I’m so glad that this had a happy ending for Bart and for you also. Even if this is not something you want your family to do again, you are teaching your daughter to try and to have compassion. And that’s awesome 🙂
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Now funnily enough I just came back to leave a comment on your previous post….
I was going to say and this might sound a little weird, since you are talking about cats and I am talking about my daughter, that sometimes you are not going to be the one to save them. Sometimes it is your role to make their passing from this life as peaceful as it can be and to witness it. Just as there are midwives for birth, you can see yourself as a midwife to a death. Sounds macabre perhaps, but I found this thought comforting.
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Oh Kiri. Thank you so much. This is exactly what I needed right now. Unfortunately the Bart story didn’t end with this post, but I haven’t had the ability to write the last sad chapter. So it helps a lot to think that maybe my job wasn’t to save Bart, but to care for him and be present for his last month.
The one sure silver lining I see out of these experiences is the empathy. Yes me fostering cats who die and your daughter’s cancer and death are different orders of heartache magnitude, but they are in the same universe. I fought against the unfairness of disease and lost and I am so sad. So I look at you and your loss and get a tiny glimpse into the pain you must have felt and are still feeling. If these life moments can make me better able to connect with others, then in a tiny way they are worth it, but man, they still really suck.
Thank you my friend from the other side of the world for being in tune with me right now. It’s been a rough week.
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Oh, so sorry to hear this did not have a happy ending. Sounds like your family has really been touched by this experience – your daughter must be having a very sad time. I’m glad you have been able to see the silver lining.
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This all ended on Tuesday, so I’m still a bit raw and have little perspective, thus I haven’t written about the experience yet. My kid is doing much better than I am, but she did proclaim that “we are never, ever, ever fostering again.” Wise words from the small person. Thanks again for writing. I really appreciated your thoughts.
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