Adventures in Fostering (Part Two)

Mustache came to us in May 2016 and we barely saw her for the first couple of days. Cats naturally seek places to hide as they evolved as both hunter and prey. That’s why they’ll always climb into empty boxes or squeeze into tight spaces. If there was a world championship for cats hiding, Mustache would win it. Though the judges would have some difficulty ever finding her to present the prize.

Our apartment in Kumamoto was not especially large but she could evade us for days at a time. After a couple of days of letting her hide, we coaxed her out of her latest secret spot and into the spare room. After a while I laid down on the floor and waited. Very slowly, hesitantly, she sniffed at my hands and then climbed atop my chest. She began to purr. Success!

Despite this promising beginning, it was Levy who Mustache truly warmed to. I suspect it was her quiet fascination with boobs that swung it. Not like I could ever compete in that department. I was very much her second choice when it came to humans but she did dish out a bit more affection whenever Levy was out of town.

She was never very keen on the other two cats. Hokke and Mustache only ever seemed to be vaguely aware of each other’s existence, but Momo hated her. Though he was significantly larger, Momo tended to get the worse of their frequent little scuffles. Like the Spartans at Thermopylae, Mustache used a narrow front to her advantage. She’d hide behind a partially open door and swat at him, preventing Momo from using his size advantage.

She overcame her initial shyness at meal times. At dawn and dusk, she would begin what I used to call the terror. The terror consisted of Mustache sitting in the doorway and ceasely meowing at varying pitches until I got up to feed her. Every single morning at the crack of dawn the terror began, if I didn’t know any better, I’d have sworn she was demanding food now.

NowNoooowNowwww

No two meows ever quite the same, not a second’s pause in the terror until I got up. She couldn’t be bargained with, she couldn’t be reasoned with, and she absolutely would not stop until she was fed. I had to feed her in another room because she and Momo would fight over food. She’d trot triumphantly to her eatery with a little brrrrt and gobble the food as fast as felinely possible in order to pilfer some of Momo’s breakfast.

When it looked like Mustache's original owners weren’t going to be able to come back for her, we thought about keeping her permanently. The fights with Momo were becoming a little too frequent and after one tussle resulted in a scratched eye and trip to the vet for Momo, we knew they’d never accept one another. We tried to keep the peace and look out for a forever home for her. Just as we were starting to worry about her long-term future, we got a call on Christmas Eve saying her owners were finally able to take her back.

On Christmas Day 2016 we met Mustache’s owners at the cat shelter and gave her back. The language barrier prevented a lengthy discussion but their tears and endless repetitions of arigato gozaimasu (thank you so much) were more than enough.

It was the best of days.

We took a little break from fostering after that but there’d be a couple more before we were chosen by another cat.

Written by Cat Whisperer AKA Husband Sol