Showing posts with label foster. Show all posts
Showing posts with label foster. Show all posts

Thursday, March 28, 2019

Day 162: Toronto Cat Rescue Bowl-a-thon


My Project: 365 Creative Writing Prompts

Day 162: Toronto Cat Rescue Bowl-a-thon

It’s that time of the year again. The Toronto Cat Rescue (TCR) is hosting their annual Bowl-a-thon to raise funds for the cats and kittens of Toronto.

Since Dieter and I love both cats and bowling, we registered for this event and are active fundraisers.

The first year we took part, our group was very small, and the organization barely raised $6,000. Last year, the group counted over 200 people and we raised over $40,000.

How does the Toronto Cat Rescue? It’s not a cat shelter in the traditional sense of the word. Cats are not housed in cages, but rather with foster families, their picture is taken and displayed on the TCR website, after which the cats are up for adoption.

The organization needs money though. Before each cat or kittens goes to their new home, they are spayed/neutered. If a cat or kitten is sick, it’s taken to a veterinarian.

If you can spare a few dollars, I would kindly ask you to make a donation. This can be done in three ways:

Canada Helps:

My PayPal account:

or via a bank transfer.

A donation of $20 or more will get you a tax receipt.

The cats and kittens of Toronto are counting on you and thank you in advance.




Wednesday, January 24, 2018

Day 82: Halley Copperfield



Day 82: Halley Copperfield

Many of you have ‘met’ Halley, the kitten we adopted from a Toronto Cat Rescue foster home just over two weeks ago. We love her dearly, she’s a sweet little thing, but every now and then she’s testing my patience. Take this morning for instance …

Around seven Dieter left for work and Halley was of the opinion that I should get up too. Having worked until long after midnight, I was in no mood to face the day yet and told Halley to bugger off. In response, she started trampling all over me and eventually came and sat next to my face.

That's when I smelled it … a distinctive earthy smell. As I opened my eyes I noticed that Halley’s white fur bore a hint of brown. I closed my eyes again though, it was too early to worry about that now.

By the time I woke up again the earthy smell had somewhat diminished and Halley’s white fur was almost back to normal. I did wonder though, what caused the smell and the color change.

A little later on, Halley pulled a disappearing act. After breakfast, she usually ‘helps’ me making the beds, but today Halley was nowhere to be found. For the next ten to fifteen minutes I looked all over for her and when I couldn’t find her in the usual places I moved on to some unusual spots: in the kitchen cabinets, in the bathroom cabinets, underneath the beds … the little bugger was nowhere to be found. Calling her name was of little use as she doesn’t respond to her name yet but I gave it a shot anyway which was met with complete silence.

By now, worried out of my mind, I searched the house all over again, calling Halley’s name as I went along. And then I heard it, an ever so faint meow and it seemed to come from the laundry cabinet. Upon inspection, I couldn’t see Halley though. I riffled through the linens but … nothing.

Fortunately, right that moment, Halley gave another faint meow and that’s when I noticed her, she was trapped underneath a laundry basket. “How did you get under there?” I asked her. She looked at me very innocently, like she didn’t have a clue either. My guess is that she was in that empty basket, tried to jump out, hit the rim and the basket flipped over, thus trapping her under it. Anyway, no harm done.

I had barely recovered from this ordeal when Halley pulled a second disappearing act shortly after lunch. With the morning’s experience still fresh in my mind my first port of call was the laundry cabinet, but Halley wasn’t there. I searched and searched but she was nowhere to be found.

Dammit, Halley where the hell are you, I thought. As on cue, I heard her meow and this time it came from the kitchen. I rushed over and looked in the cabinets, behind the fridge, and behind the washing machine. She wasn’t in any of these places. “Halley, where are you? Show yourself!” I called with urgency. And would you believe it, the little troublemaker peeped out from her hiding place. Her hiding place being … (wait for it) a bag of potatoes. 

As I lifted her out her white fur was coated with brown dust and she smelled of the earth. I remembered that smell of when I first woke up this morning. Sleeping in the potato bag was obviously not her first time.

If she keeps up these disappearing acts, we're gonna name her Halley Copperfield.