Adopting a cat from the shelter as a noob

I was subconsciously conditioned by society to consider dogs first, not realizing cats are a perfectly fine first pet.

Just a few weeks ago, I celebrated my cat's 4-year-old birthday. I prepared him some special treats (wet and dried fish, soft-boiled egg), inflated some balloons, lit a candle, and did a photo shoot as a good pet companion does. It's silly and cute and made me reflect on my experience adopting him 6 months ago.

It started with an ad

In mid-January 2024, as I was perusing the San Mateo Daily Journal (part of my new morning habit), I came across a "Pet of the week" article from the Peninsula Humane Society & SPCA.  I learned a little about an adorable black-white domestic mix named Paco. While I considered a pet and was adamant that it would be a foster or rescue, I never did anything.  Seeing this ad as a sign for myself, I cut the snippet and drove to meet Paco that weekend.

Paco immediately took to me, but something wasn’t right.  He was too clingy; he climbed all over me immediately, it was too much all at once.  How could he adore me when we barely knew each other?  He had a few sections of missing fur, which points to excess grooming (red flag– high anxiety), and then I started having a bad allergic reaction, like an omen.  I knew I was allergic to cats, but surely some cats more than others right?

I checked out other cats at the shelter. There was a new and very popular 3-month-old with a missing eye. I asked for more information about his eye, but the shelter workers wouldn't divulge any details due to the pending abuse case. That's when I learned privacy laws applied to cats.  Anyhow, the other cats didn’t click with me, so I went home dejected.  What if I’m severely allergic to all cats? I might need to take antihistamines forever! (I addressed this topic in another post: Trying Curex SLIT for my cat allergies).

As I headed home, I wondered whether I thought things through with the cat. I wanted to have a pet companion to share life with, and I always imagined I’d foster a small adult dog first.  I have an affinity with animals (my favorite is the jumping spider). Still, I was subconsciously conditioned by society to consider dogs first, not realizing cats are a perfectly fine first pet.

While dogs are probably more interactive and subjectively more fulfilling, they are just too much commitment for me with my startup. They need to be walked 3 times a day and I can't leave it alone for more than 6-8 hours at a time. Cats, on the other hand, can be left alone for up to 2 days (not recommended). I already considered a pet for over a year, and I decided I wouldn't let this moment pass.

That said, I determined that Paco deserved someone else who could match his level of affection. I did some more research over the next few days to see where to go the following weekend.

I wanted a more aloof companion

I saw a posting for Charleston on the site by the Silicon Valley Humane Society, with a short and mysterious description: “I am a bit shy, quiet, and reserved so I could use a special someone with a gentle voice, a tender touch, and a loving heart. Then you'll see me blossom as a sweet, loving, and affectionate cat”. I went to meet him on Saturday morning. 

Charleston carries a luxurious white-grey coat, giving off a regal vibe.  He looks to have bits of Russian Blue (athletic, gentle, loyal). The few scars on his nose bridge give him a rugged handsomeness.

Charleston was one of those cats who was isolated from the others.  Usually, they put socialized cats together in the sunroom, but because he was plucked off the streets, they had no history of his behavior with others.  They only knew he wasn't neutered, was dirty, and had ear mites. As I peeked into his room, Charleston was hiding under the shelving, with his butt-tail sticking out.

When I walked in with a wand toy, he ignored me, and I sat quietly with him for 15 minutes while trying to get his attention.  After having him sniff my hand, I gently petted his butt-tail, but he didn’t react to me at all.  Maybe he was depressed, I thought.  I left to get lunch, then returned about an hour later.  As I sat down this time, he came out, brushed by me, then sat next to me for about 10 seconds. Then he retreated to his hiding spot under the shelves. I could see why he hadn't been adopted after spending more than 2 weeks at the shelter.

I decided to give the other cats a shot as well. I went to the sunroom after visiting a few isolated cats (they didn't click with me). Aside from McLovin, they had the same problem as Paco– too affectionate too soon. Speaking of McLovin, I read that Scottish Folds suffer joint pain and stiffness due to a genetic disease called osteochondrodysplasia. Perhaps that explains why he looked sad and mellow (see gallery). I felt angry thinking that people breed them to look a certain way, at the expense of the cat’s suffering.

Of all the cats, I thought about Charleston all night. He has the right level of aloofness for me. Just like my human partners, I want my animal partners to stand on their own, know their worth, and do their own thing.

The next morning I went back to HSSV to meet him again. As I entered, he recognized my voice and came out from his hiding spot to greet me.  After circling me, he sat down by my leg, inviting me to pet him. After a few moments of petting, he rolled to his side.  He seemed comfortable but still shy and did not respond to my play attempts.  After about a minute, he got up, sipped some water, and returned to his spot under the shelves. Yes, he was perfect.

While going through the adoption paperwork, I was giddy with excitement and fantasized about our lives together, like the possible trips we could take. The adoption personnel ran through his medical history with me and gave me some resources. Then I paid a modest adoption fee and signed the legal transfer documents.

I had 90 days to return him if I changed my mind. Given that he wasn't easily adoptable (most people prefer a younger, more socialized cat), returning him would likely be a death sentence for him. I set those troubling thoughts aside and determined to give him the best life possible with the resources I have.

As I was heading out, they asked what I'd name him. I decided right then his name was Moon.

Things I learned about "Charleston"

When Moon first arrived at my place, he slept for a week from exhaustion. Once he recovered, I found him to be clumsy yet athletic. His favorite toy is the Cat Dancer, and he loves his nightly wet meal (he has a special type of meow for this).

These days, he responds to Moonie. The extra "ee" sound makes him more receptive to my call. I will say "Hey Moonie" and he'll respond with a short and confident "meh", short for "meow". It’s his "what's up" response to my "what's up" question.

Most mornings, he comes up to my bed to check on me. If I’m awake, he will hop on my chest, his whiskers brushing my face, and produce a robust purr as I pet him while trying not to sneeze. This will go on for 5 minutes. If I’m not awake, he’ll wait on the nearby cat tree. He is either considerate or wise.

I have taken him on car rides numerous times to the Cat's Inn for boarding or other, but he still freaks out about traveling. I have had little success with leash-training him as he'll just crouch and not move. While I've given up my dream of taking him camping, I do find his presence at home soothing. Plants just don't have the same effect.

Speaking of plants, I gave away most of them when I found Moon nibbling on the leaves of my dracaena (toxic to cats) in the first few days. In fact, he ate one of my favorite tillandsia (aka. air plants). I now only have a handful of small succulents left, which he ignores (for now).

Living with another being is a compromise. While I didn't know much about cats at first, I was prepared to make changes to my life to accommodate whatever the pet needed. Bringing Moon home and coexisting has been a joyful and fulfilling experience, and I'm glad I adopted him. I look forward to learning more about him every day.