Yesterday, I experienced the hardest adoption day of my life. Not because the home wasn’t up to par, far from it. It is a quaint set of cottages facing the Santiam River up in the mountains. The family was wonderful. The actual saying goodbye (especially to Magoo and Ash (Orange boy has already taken over the home). It was the paralyzing terror, that I saw Magoo in before I left. I left my cat carriers there for comfort. Jess will return them when the two kittens have adjusted.

Poor Magoo, he was clear in the back of the cat carrier- his body arched not in anger, but just in complete terror. I picked him up, and loved on him to say goodbye, but he was trembling so badly. It broke my heart. I told him he was in a good place and I had already told the family if the kittens can’t adjust. I would take one or all of them back in a hot second. Ash was also a ball of nerves and who can blame them? They were left (not intentionally) by their mom, then I abandoned them for all those times they were at the vets. I couldn’t go visit because of Covid.. Now, I was leaving them in good hands for the final time. Add to it the PTSD left over from their fire experience. I just pray the two of them adjust over the next week.

But my heart is heavy this morning and the house seems so empty. My eyes are sad. I have never been affected to this extreme during an adoption before.Sending all my strength to my two kittens this morning and hoping that they have at least eaten by now.