Life happens. But this part stinks.
The vet called. The new cat has feline leukemia. We can’t keep him.
We knew this was a possibility, and so we did not name the new cat. We did not introduce him to Handsome. We did not let him out of the bedroom and the bathroom into the rest of the apartment.
But in the two days we had him, he was getting to be our friend. He purrs like a mad purring thing - his purr is bigger than he is! -- and loves to be petted and loved. He stretched out on our bed and watched out the window and looked as though all was right with his world. We fed him, and petted him, and hugged him, and talked to him, and made him a place in our home, and I’m crying a little bit because I feel like I made him a promise that I can’t keep.
Now the new cat, who I took back to the vet this morning to be bathed and neutered, is boarding there until we find him a place. We’re calling the wonderful woman who took him in off the street to see if any of her other takers are able to adopt a FeLV+ cat who has now been neutered, bathed, clipped (claws, that is), and vaccinated against all the usual feline maladies. If none of her original list are able to commit (it is a responsibility!), we’ll start calling the animal rescue places. Any advice is welcome.
*is sad*