by Bridie Cavanaugh

Created on: December 31, 2008

I make it a habit to stop in at the local animal shelter with extra pet supplies and toys. In the springtime, I noticed that the local animal shelters quickly fill up with kittens. It was fun to watch them cavort around the cat room, confident that they would find a home. The small adoption room filled with excited families holding kittens and debating over how many to take home. Applications were filled out and "going home" tags placed on cages. There was an air of excitement and anticipation. The kittens played, meowing loudly and throwing toy mice in the air. Things were loud and hectic.

The older cats would sit by quietly observing the room from cages stuck in between the chaos. They would rub against the bars and stick hopeful paws out of cages hoping to catch someone's attention. I rubbed a few heads and scratched behind a few ears. Then I came upon Charlie. He sat quietly, his large yellow eyes taking in the activity. I wondered what he was doing there and glanced at his card. "Charlie, orange tabby, fifteen years old, owner in hospital, family surrender". Fifteen years old amongst all the kittens. He was old and he was huge. At least twenty-five pounds of cat, his body took up most of the small cage. Poor guy. I stuck a finger in between the bars and scratched behind his ears. He purred loudly and ducked his head so I could find a better spot. "Good bye, Charlie. Don't worry Old Guy" I said and headed out the door. I wasn't planning on adding to my pack and had promised myself I was just there to drop off supplies.

I headed out to my car and settled into the driver's seat. I thought about those calm, big yellow eyes. Fifteen years old. Away from all he knew. Stuck in a cage too small for his body. An old cat in a world full of kittens. Would he find a home? Would anyone care?

With a sigh I headed back into the shelter. I made my way past the kittens and opened his cage. The big yellow eyes blinked. He ducked his head so I could find his favorite spot behind the ears. I somehow managed to pick him up and drag all twenty-five pounds of him out of the cage. He made no effort to help me and no effort to escape. He just continued to purr and stare at me with those big yellow eyes. We made our way to the adoption room. The volunteer seemed amazed that I would want the fifteen year old cat. She offered to waive the usual donation fee. She picked him up and stuffed him into a cardboard box without asking for any paperwork.

Once home Charlie settled in quickly always

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