We have had to take Lucy back to the Humane Society. We realized that we were not a family that would be good for her, and that she was a cat who would not be good for us.
I think we're all very sad about that.
We brought her home on the 13th. LadyRanger and I did not sleep more than 3 hours a night until the 22nd. We drastically underestimated Lucy's energy level.
We were prepared for serious kitten energy, and were more than willing to be romped on several times a night. The problem with Lucy was that she she didn't romp. She was literally in our faces for hours, loudly demanding to be loved. She nibbled faces and burrowed into armpits and attempted to nurse, despite the fact that a rational analysis of species and gender would have convinced her that it was unlikely to be productive. And any positive reaction, like returning the snuggles or petting her only ramped her activity level higher! We have run headlong into tortie-tude.
And it was either this or listen to her yowl like a lost soul for hours when we put her in Ivy's old room so that we could actually sleep. No one with a heart, though, could have easily or peacefully slept through the sounds of her howling and trying to get under the door.
Returning her was the result of long and heart-wrenching discussions over several days. LadyR and I wondered if she'd outgrow the hyper-aggressive nighttime snuggling. The problem is that, even if she'd suddenly outgrown all kitten behavior at the age of six months, we'd still have to live with this for three more months. We consulted with Dr.G., our wonderful vet. She said that this behavior was not likely to change any time soon, if at all.
I don't feel that I could fulfill my responsibilities here at home, let alone go to school and teach a class of 5th graders, with such a disrupted sleep routine. LadyRanger feels the same about her routine.
I do believe that Lucy will make someone very happy, and I regret that it's not us.
She was the happiest and most confident cat I've ever met. I doubt anyone will ever be a stranger to her. She was bright and talkative. I loved loved loved playing with her! It was a treat to see her run across the living room carrying a toy mouse that was almost as big as she was, only to watch her run back the other way with it only seconds later.
I've got some pics of her that I will always keep.
Getting ready to launch herself...
I love her wee feets!
She liked anything that dangled, including camera straps...
and she could be a twisty-cat as well as any.
On Friday, we took Lucy to the vet to get her final round of shots, consulted with Dr G., and then took her back to the Humane Society. We took her favorite toys, two bags of treats (Greenies for the win!) and a large bag of her kitten food (the less expensive food they have at the shelter gives her the raucous farts!). We hope that these few, small things will make the transition easier for the poor girl.
I believe that this is the right course of action, regardless of the sorrow. We took her back while she was still a young, incredibly cute, personality-ridden, highly adoptable kitten. I know that such a vibrant cat will find a home that is right for her, and that there she will be the Great Cat of the World.
We'll continue our search for the right cat, or cats. I'll tell the world when we've found them.
We feel terribly sad. I feel sad that I don't have a cat anymore. I hate walking out of buildings with an empty cat carrier.
I feel sad that this didn't work out for all of us.
Mostly I feel sad because I couldn't keep my promise to Lucy. Spare her a prayer or a thought, if you'd be so good.