I had an emotional experience today similar to one I've had before. Today was the day when the cat wore out its welcome. At 7:00AM, when I went downstairs to feed the animals, I was greeted by a newly produced puddle of cat urine in an area of the hall she has never used before. It was the last straw. We're trying to fix up the house for possible sale, and this is just a stress we don't need. I tried to keep a stoic expression as I readied the cat cage for it's final trip. I even spent nearly two hours preparing a flyer that the Humane Society could use to show prospective adoptive families how beautiful and well mannered the cat was. By 10:00AM, all had been gathered, and the cat and I were on our way.

The drive to the Humane Society was sheer torture. The cat seemed to know something was not quite right. She cried meekly, not the howls I was used to when she went on rides to the kennel or the vet, but a soft whimper - a last "I'm sorry for the trouble I've caused you". I bawled out loud all the way there, asking her forgiveness as we drove. I must have looked pretty silly to the other drivers on the road, since the cat carrier would not have been visible to other drivers. It was tucked into the back seat where it would be safe.

When I got to the Humane Society, I was shuddering all over. Based on my expression, the people behind the desk must have assumed I was bringing an animal in to be destroyed. I explained that my cat needed to find a new home - one that would be more tolerant of her recent habits. They tried to convince me that maybe it was just a behavioural problem, and that it was impossible for them to place a cat with a new family, knowing what they knew about her current habits. They were probably right, but there wasn't enough time to try to teach this cat new tricks. Time was just too short.

But, I didn't want her to die. She's a wonderful cat. I asked if there were any cat rescue locations that might be willing to try an adoption, and they gave me a couple of names. They also suggested I visit the vet. That last idea seemed pretty reasonable. I figured the vet would only be visited by people who were concerned about their own pets, and possibly be in a position to offer a replacement to families whose own pet had met with an unfortunate end. While I was at the office, the vet technician talked about the environmental stresses that might cause such behaviour. As she spoke, I tried to keep an open mind, and recognized some of the stressors as being present. She suggested that we might be able to retrain the cat to use her litter box by confining her in a bathroom for a week or two, visiting her in this environment, but not allowing her to have full reign on the house. I certainly didn't want to confine the cat to our newly retiled bathroom - that was part of the problem in the first place. However, the more she said, the more sense it made to me.

I left the flyer (with pictures, description, and background data) with the vet, to be posted on the bulletin board. Meanwhile, I returned home with the cat, and on the way, decided on the perfect place to confine her while she's being retrained. We have a "cooler" room, just off the laundry area. It's fairly narrow (maybe 3 ft. wide), but quite long. There's certainly enough room to place her bed, food, litter box, and even the "cat condo" and still give her enough room to move around comfortably. I was surprised when she was placed inside. She didn't complain at all. Somehow, I think she knows she came that close to buying the farm. She's been inside for the entire afternoon, and we've gone into the room to visit her... stroke her... brush her... play with her. I hope she learns to use the litter box before we get a serious inquiry from a good potential home. For now though, she stays in the house. And I'll sleep better tonight knowing she's still here.