No Room at the Inn

My favorite, fantastic no-kill shelter is completely full. There's a four-week waiting list, so for the moment, we're fostering the most recent arrival to Angie's House of Suckers.




We're calling him Ollie. He is the snuggliest cat I've ever met. We're putting up Lost Cat posters, but he has no collar, no tags, no microchip and no way to determine if he's lost or homeless. He's a deeply committed purr-er, sproinging around and head-butting anything preventing you from giving him full-on ear/chin scratches and pats. My mom swears she could push her childhood cat Tabby around in a doll carriage and wear him around her neck like a fur stoll. I never really believed it until now. This cat is a total moosh. You can carry him around like a baby, drape him around your shoulders, anything. He got a bath, which he submitted to without a peep. He is the Anti-Fred.

So far, his accidental introduction to Bella and Fred wasn't exactly a failure. The dog's enthusiasm, in particular, was somewhat overwhelming to our cuddly little guest, and anyway, our eccentric dynamic duo is already a handful. Bella ate a bottle cap last Tuesday. She helpfully yurked it back out, saving us $3,000 we would have spent on obstruction-removal surgery, but turned into a Blast-Ended Skrewt all the same. $345 in vet bills, antibiotics and x-rays later, she is grounded and not allowed to have another cat.

Please. Wrack your brains. Is there anyone in the tri-state area who needs some unconditional love? Perhaps a living scarf to wear as the weather gets colder? I will drive him anywhere, do anything to find this cat a good home.