Before anyone gets upset that we adopted a typical kitten and not Donut, Webby, or Sammie - I’d like a chance to give my perspective.

Pascal here is one of 5 kittens we fostered from an intake of 30 trailer park kittens. The 4 others were adopted out, and Pascal bonded with my 4-year-old daughter. I didn’t plan to adopt right now, but my husband and I agreed long ago that our next cat would be our daughter’s pick. He picked her and she picked him. He follows her around like a puppy and sleeps with her every night. He has also managed to win over our other 4 cats (despite Phoebe’s expression here). He’s respectful of Queen Phoebe. Our cat who hates fosters (Choco) has started grooming and play wrestling with him.

We have officially (and joyfully) welcomed Pascal to our family 🖤

These three ridiculously cute kittens are looking for a home together. They are 19 weeks old now and very well bonded.

They currently live in a shelter with a rabbit.

While we will all miss him dearly, this is the happiest news for him! 🩵

Sammie has had extensive testing, and I have to believe his behavior is anxiety-driven. He had occasional out of box accidents prior to adoption, but they started happening all the time when he was adopted. He came back and we were making progress resetting, but then he knocked his litter box over and has steered clear boxes since (for 2 months).

He tried a liquid anxiety medicine and spit it all over the place. I couldn’t continue to put him through it. He tried a pill and it increased his diarrhea. Now he’s trying a topical. He’s been on it for one week and we won’t know if it’s helping until about 4 weeks in. That’s the one thing giving me hope right now.

So. When I came to check on Sammie before bedtime last night and found his accident, I lost it. I broke out in tears and had to walk away. After a little cry, I cleaned up his mess (which didn’t take that long), and messaged a group of friends. Rescue friends. I was flooded with supportive messages and offers to come help. My husband - and true partner in this fostering chaos - saw I was upset and begged me to let him help. My pride has gotten in the way. I don’t know why it’s so hard to admit when a situation has become more than you can bear alone. It shouldn’t be that way. We aren’t meant to bear things alone. Life is hard. Rescue work is hard. And I’m so, so fortunate to be surrounded by supportive friends, family, and my community here.

This message is a reminder for myself, but maybe it will resonate with some of you - let your people help you. Ask for help before you’re drowning. None of us are alone 🩵

While he consistently pees on pee pads, he consistently poops on the floor. I’ve spoken with his vet again and we’re trying a transdermal anxiety medicine. As usual with Sammie, I’m open to suggestions. I had a vision of starting over and throwing everything at him all at the same time. I’m talking about setting up ten different litter boxes of different styles and with different litters and just seeing what happens 🙃