Welcome to my very first blog, a place where I will chronicle the journey of my first foster cat, Persia. But before I go into that, a bit about me. I'm Joe, I live in an apartment in New York City, specifically Hell's Kitchen. I absolutely love animals, and I'm the proud father of Cassie, a cream white chow chow, as well as Sasha, a beautiful domestic shorthair. I'm 20 years old, currently taking classes at Hunter College, and I'm thinking of majoring in anthropology. Aside from being passionate about creatures of all sizes and shapes, I take a very vested interest in the future of our planet, and right now, I believe that how we choose to use and allocate our natural resources is the most important issue facing us.
Cassie and Sasha, January 2012
But enough about me, let's talk about Persia. Yesterday, I met with Joan Berg Victor from 2000 Spays and Neuters, a cat rescue group based in NYC. She told me she had the perfect cat for me, a beautiful white kitten currently being fostered with her mom by a nice lady uptown. Persia had recently began acting aggressively towards the lady's cat and was also becoming protective of her mother. Joan believed it was best that little Persia find a home separate from her mother.
I'd recently had to relocate my puppy to my mom's place in Queens temporarily. It's a long story, but let's just say that one of my roommates was the main reason. In any case, I felt a void in my life and was all too happy to open my door to Persia.
So today I went up to the tippy top of Manhattan, a place called Inwood. I had fond memories of hiking in Inwood Park a couple of times in high school. I was also quite nervous about meeting Persia, I had never fostered a cat before and didn't know what to expect. Her current foster, Gloria, greeted me at her door. She told me she had successfully trapped the kitty in the bathroom. I found that odd, but I soon found out why it was necessary.
We opened the bathroom door and I immediately saw two wide eyes peering out at me from behind the toilet. Poor kitty, she must be scared. Even though she was hiding, I could see how gorgeous she was. I reached out a hand to stroke her, which I'd done countless times volunteering at cat rescues in the past. I was rewarded with a loud hiss and an attempt to take my hand out with her sharp claws. Uh oh, this was gonna be more difficult than I'd expected.
It took a good half hour, some clever maneuvering, and a healthy dose of courage to finally get Persia from behind the toilet to the cat carrier. I reached for the handle on top of carrier, but Persia promptly let out a loud hiss and swiped at my hand through the window on top. It was a near miss, but my heart was racing now. Thankfully, the carrier came with a shoulder strap, or I might not have survived the trip back.
We made it home, and I felt Persia loosen up once I set her down on the floor in my room. She was no longer hissing at me. I left he carrier door open, and after a while, she wondered out, hopped around my room a bit, and settled down in a cardboard box under my study table.
I sat down and started winking at her, determined to gain her trust. Eventually, I mustered the courage to reach out a hand and pet her. She accepted my touch. Though I'd done this countless times with other cats, this time it was different. Her previous foster told me she had never even been able to touch Persia. I'll admit, I was quite terrified, but a wave of relief washed over me as she closed her eyes and seemed to enjoy being stroked. Excited, I called Joan and told her about what had just happened. We agreed, she'll be alright.
Persia, 4/3/2012
]I tried to pet her a while later and sure enough, she was back to trying to take my hand off. After a few more attempts, I decided it was best to give her her space. I had already gotten a rare glimpse at the sweet kitten underneath, that was good enough. With enough TLC, I know she'll get there someday. I said a prayer for her and if you're reading this, I hope you will too!
Persia, 4/3/2012
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