While waiting for Selene’s return, I received a call from the apartment’s front office. Unfortunately, I didn’t see it until after they were closed and didn’t see the email they sent me.
But it was good news: they found Selene’s owner.
It was such a relief to know that she actually did have a parent that cared about her and come next time we found her, it would be a scoop and return home rather than a scoop and take to shelter or vet.
Around 10 p.m., I received more good news: Selene was back on my boss’s porch. Zach and I were quick to grab a carrier for her and a towel to grab her with.
Selene was clearly happy to be getting attention from my boss, and she only put up a small struggle when it came to the towel. Once she was in the carrier, she was surprisingly docile.
We set up one of our bathrooms for her: bowl of food, bowl of fresh water, disposable litter box fashioned out of a shallow box, and carrier in the tub to act as her bed. It wasn’t ideal, but it was the best we could do with a small bathroom and two other cats that weren’t happy to have an intruder.
Steve was the most upset. I had to put a large pillow against the door to keep him from swatting and hissing at Selene. To make things more annoying for me, Selene wasn’t wanting to stay in the small bathroom and began to claw at the pillow.
It reminded me pretty forcefully of those first few days we had Steve.
Thankfully though, once the lights were off the cats settled down. Getting to sleep was easy because I knew we would be getting her home in the morning.
Come morning, the most difficult thing was handling Steve. He had started to hiss at just the smell of her, which meant he would hiss at Zach or me if we had recently handled Selene. Thankfully he wasn’t aggressive towards us, but it was still stressful.
Selene was also getting more stubborn about wanting out of the bathroom, and it got to the point where she almost did slip out. Years of having cats had trained me for this one moment: pushing her back in without hurting her. It took my foot and my shin to keep her in while I wiggled my way into the bathroom, but I managed it.
She was a motorboat the whole time I sat with her, checking over the usual slew of messages I received overnight. I tried to take some pictures, but you can see how well some of those went. I didn’t think it possible, but I found a cat even harder to photograph than Jasmine.
Come 8:45, I was able to contact her owner. The exchange was a little rough, with the sounds of cats on my end and a bad connection on his, but we figured things out.
He knew where we were; we knew he’d be by soon.
Unfortunately for him, the information about our building number ended up muddled in the background noise, so he ended up searching away from our building. Thankfully we got his attention and called him up—as it turned out, he lives on the back side of our apartment building!
I found out Selene’s real name—Izzy—and decided that she must have gotten out at some point, rounded the corner, and couldn’t figure out where to go from there. I didn’t ask about the situation, figuring the two wanted to be back home, so after a brief conversation Izzy and her dad left.
Steve was still a hissy baby; Jasmine was completely out of sight.
But Izzy was home safe and a cat-lover was reunited with his cat, so all ended well. Steve and Jasmine are already back to normal, and this has shown me that rescuing cats really is what I want to do.
Despite how sad I was at the sound of her meows and the thought of her being abandoned, being able to get her caught and back to her human felt fantastic. Even if we really did have to do the last resort of TNR, she would have at least been vaccinated, checked over for parasites, fixed, and set back into the world with her newly-clipped ear to start her new life as a community cat.
I’ve learned from this experience. My main takeaway: if possible, just take the cat to the vet to check for a chip. I still don’t know if she was chipped, but even if she hadn’t been we would have at least been another step closer to getting her cleaned up and towards becoming a community cat.
I also learned that I don’t get as emotionally attached to a cat if I know from the get-go that I won’t be keeping her. With how attached I always get when it comes to my pets, I had expected to feel sad when Izzy left. Instead, it was such a breath of relief that she was somewhere she preferred and somewhere that would be permanent and happy for her.
Knowing that has boosted my confidence in the future. With such a good ending to Izzy’s little journey, I look forward to what else I’ll be able to do for cats in the coming future.
Have you ever rescued a cat?
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