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Chapter 30. His Bark Is Worse Than His Bite
“I want to bring Georgio into Pet Stop this weekend!” Tony demanded to me over the phone. “Hum, I don’t really have the cage space this weekend, Tony,” I stammered. I could feel the man’s impatience and annoyance with both the cat and me. “Maybe, next weekend,” I promised halfheartedly.
The reality was that Georgio was not yet, “adoptable.” I didn’t know when I could safely feel the feisty, big black and white tom cat rescued from Maspeth could be brought to Pet Stop for adoption. Georgio was a threat to strike people.
How long does it take for a cat who was used to battling his life out as a tough stray from the mean streets of Queens to become a tame and loving pussycat? The fact was, I couldn’t give Tony an honest answer to either the question or his persistent demand to “find a home for Georgio.” Tony Ficcio was one of the founding members of New Yorkers for Companion Animals, a dedicated advocate for animals and a consistent fosterer for me. Tony was in his 50’s, semi-retired and was boyfriend to Anita Mackey, NYCA’s other founding member and soft-spoken volunteer. But, despite all his aid to animals and the organization, this time I ran into trouble with Tony over his fostering of Georgio.
Tony had been fostering Georgio for about six weeks. Despite the fact we had the cat neutered as soon as he was rescued, Georgio still exhibited much of the behavior of the intact “tom cat.” He was aggressive towards Tony’s personal two cats and when petted, Georgio would quickly grab and bite on the hand in similar manner to the way tom cats bite on the necks of female cats when mating with them.
I kept begging Tony to be “patient” with Georgio, but patience was something not in ample supply in Tony’s personality. “Patient?” Tony yelled at me more than once. “C’mon, Patty, I have to separate this cat from my other two! He attacks them viciously! He needs to find a home as an only cat. What about that woman who was looking for a nice healthy male cat? He asked further. “Tony, the woman wants a friendly cat! She’s not going to want a cat who chomps on her hand like it’s a female in heat!” I couldn’t believe Tony, whose hand was bandaged from a recent Georgio bite could expect me to bring the cat into Pet Stop for adoption. “Be reasonable, Tony, please. The cat needs more time.” “Georgio’s very good looking and he can be nice!” Tony insisted. “He rubs against my legs sometimes.”
It was a no win argument going in circles, like so many of the dialogues between Tony and myself. Tony hated my newsletters and fliers and constantly accused me of “writing too much.” “You just need to let the people know you are saving cats and ask them to send money. They’re not going to read all this stuff,” Tony admonished repeatedly. “Tony, we’re supposed to be doing humane education as well as saving cats!” I answered back. But, this particular tiff over Georgio was getting on my nerves. I didn’t need a lawsuit on my hands with a cat who bites people. I was confident that with time, Georgio would get over the hormones and behavior he still had from his wild days being a tom cat. But, I didn’t know if that would happen before Tony and I would come to our own claws and teeth blows. One of the difficulties in this line of work is to be able to "move" rescued cats as quickly as possible into adoptive homes in order to free up fosters and rescue more. But, many animals need time before they are truly ready to be adopted. The skittish, the sick and cats like Georgio, who still think they are toughing it out on the mean city streets, despite being rescued and in a caring temporary home environment. Sometimes the challenges of caring for a sick, painfully shy or particularly feisty animal can be too much for the foster people and then the pressure is put on the Director of the organization to "take the animal back" or "find a home for him/her." But, finding new fosters or adoptive homes for animals is never as simple as pushing a button. People often become impatient with organizations. But, despite our names or reputations or commitments, we are still very limited in the actual miracles we can pull off on a moment's notice. I daresay we can pull very few miracles on a moment's notice or simply the demands of others. Most often, we have to beg for others to have "patience." Time cures most problems in animal placement. But, in a fast-paced, high pressured world with too many animals and too few homes, "patience" is often in critically short supply. Over the next few weeks Tony’s complaints became a little less intense, but he still demanded to know when Georgio could be brought in for adoption. “ Very soon, Tony,” I continued to stall. “I just have a few more adoptable cats from my house that need to be placed. As soon as my numbers are down to reason, I will save a cage for Georgio.”
Finally, after about three months of stalls, promises and placements, I called Tony to tell him he could bring Georgio in the following weekend. “Oh,” he said hesitantly. “Well, err,…I have something to do this weekend. I won ’t be able to bring Georgio in.” Surprised by the hesitancy in Tony’s voice, I was quite sure he had nothing especially planned for the weekend, but happily accepted his words anyway. “OK, Tony. I will try to get him in the next weekend or two.”
I let the situation slide for another couple of weeks and was surprised again not to hear from Tony demanding to bring in Georgio. Then, I called him to invite Georgio in for the following Saturday. “What?” Tony asked, sounding suddenly insulted. “Oh no! I want to keep Georgio! He’s a great cat!” “ What about your other two cats?” I asked, not believing the words I was hearing from Tony’s mouth. “The cats all get along fine now, “ Tony said calmly. “Really, I’ve grown to love Georgio,” he said so softly I could barely hear. “Take one of the other cats in.”
I hung up the phone stunned by the sudden turn in events, but smiling to myself. The cat Tony formerly screamed about and couldn’t wait to be rid of was now something he could barely say above a whisper he loved and couldn’t bear to see leave.
The faint scar of an old bite still on his hand, Tony’s bark, nevertheless was worse than any bite from animal or life. Perhaps the barks and vitriol and outward tough appearance of the man was all to cover-up a tender heart. In that respect, both cat and man had much in common.