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Chapter 40. Heart Over Head
"Alice has over 40 cats in her apartment and the landlord is threatening eviction," the concerned woman with a slight Brooklyn accent told me over the phone. The caller identified herself as Judy Koretz and she told me about the stray problems in Brooklyn and how she and another woman were trying to rescue, vet and neuter adoptable cats. Unfortunately, they couldn't find adopters for the animals and the "other woman" in this case was almost 80 years old and way over her head in cats.
"If you want to bring in two cats this weekend, I'll let you have cage-space," I told Judy. " The cats have to be socialized, vaccinated, tested and neutered. You will need to bring their medical papers. I will also need you to stay and talk to people about the cats. If not adopted, you will need to take the cats back." Judy happily agreed to the conditions and promised to bring two healthy, adoptable six-month-old kittens. I gave her the location of Petco and advised her to meet me there at noon, the following Saturday.
Judy Koretz, was a cute, perky, blonde, 37-years-old with an outgoing, determined personality. She showed up early enough to help Susan, Anne and myself set up the cages and cats. The cats she brought were healthy and clean. Though a little skittish, the two brother kittens were cute and adoptable.
I liked the fact that Judy was involved hands-on in rescue and shared many of the same passions, pressures and feelings that I did. Moreover, she was a bright and warm young woman who related well to the public and had good presentation. She seemed to know well how to promote the cats and also what to look for in potential fosters and adopters. By the end of the day, Judy had a good home for both kittens, as well as she helped in the adoptions of a couple of NYCA's kitties. The association between Judy and myself began on a very positive, if not intense note and would remain so for a number of years.
Judy was married and a stay-at-home wife. With no children to care for, Judy had time to do some rescues of her own, but mostly she tried to help out the elderly lady named "Alice" who, according to Judy had a heart condition and was facing a possible eviction. With so many cats to rescue and try to place, Judy became a regular at Petco with me every weekend. We also became good friends.
Because it was a hassle for Judy to trudge back and forth between Manhattan and Brooklyn on weekends, we arranged for her to stay at my house on Saturday nights and for any unadopted cats to go to fosters. Sunday nights, her husband, Marty, picked her up with his car for the ride back to Brooklyn.
Judy and I usually went out on Saturday nights after Petco to share dinner, drinks and "shop talk." It had been years since I went out socially and I enjoyed the opportunities again to do so. Judy was a fun lover who enjoyed a night on the town once a week. It represented a "break" for her from the routine rituals of marriage. She loved to harmlessly flirt with guys and dance. I enjoyed the dancing and "breakaway" from the constant demands of rescue.
If there were rifts between us they had to do with how many cats Judy could bring in at any one time. "Judy, I want to be able to save more cats from CACC," I told her. "I only have so much space at Petco. I can't save the world. Alice has to be patient."
One day, I invited Judy to come with me on a trip to CACC. I had enough volunteers at Petco that Sunday. "I'd like to be able to take 2 cats right now," I told Judy as we headed on the uptown subway to go to 110th Street. "We need to look for the most adoptable. Preferably, cats who are already neutered."
I wanted Judy to understand the needs and pressures of shelter rescue.
It was the middle of summer and the CACC was packed with cats, kittens and moms and litters. Judy was very affected by the sheer number of cats desperately needing rescue and cried as we went through the wards. I had never seen Judy so emotional and so upset.
"Oh my God, " Judy sighed, as paws reached out through cage bars. "They're all so beautiful. How do we make a choice for just a few?"
"Well, now you know, Judy how I feel every time I come up here," I answered somberly.
Although I had only planned to take two cats, we already had four neutered cats picked out when Judy drew my attention to a skinny, bedraggled black and white kitten marked for euthanasia in a cage. "Oh, Patty, look at this poor little girl!" she said. We have to take her."
The kitten was about six-months-old, unspayed, caked with filth and dirt, alarmingly emaciated (with a pot belly) and obviously sick. "Judy, are you kidding? That kitten looks like she's about to die! We have to save the adoptables."
But, Judy in her determined way would not give up. "I will find someone to foster her, Patty. You have my word on it. We can't let this little girl die!"
Inwardly kicking myself for having brought Judy to CACC, I did not nevertheless have the toughness and resolve to say "no."
We left CACC that day with the kitten who looked only hours away from death. "She's very dehydrated, Judy. This cat needs to get on meds and fluids immediately."
After leaving CACC, we first went to my house to picked up antibiotics, feeding syringes and a bag of lactated ringers (fluids). We then returned to Petco with the five new cats. We treated and separated the sickly kitten, keeping her for the time being in a carrier away from the other cats. I figured I would have to bring her home with me that evening.
But, Judy went immediately to work on the kitten. She turned on the charm to a young man who happened by our display looking at the adoptable cats.
Paul Hennes wasn't really looking to adopt a cat that late Sunday afternoon. He, like most people just stopped by to curiously gaze at the animals. But, Judy, sensing someone with a heart pulled him aside, "Look at this poor little kitten we just rescued. Would you like to foster her?"
Judy showed the young man who had never medicated a cat in his life, how to give antibiotics, how to force-feed and how to give fluids. I was shocked when he agreed to take the kitten home. "You know I can't promise you that this kitten is going to make it," I told him. "If you run into a serious problem we can send her to our vet tomorrow. But, to be honest, she could die anytime. She's very weak."
"I am willing to give it a try," the kindly young man replied. "Well, call me if you run into a problem and need help," I tried to assure him. "Let me know how it's going."
I couldn't believe Judy had found a foster for this particular kitten (now named "Dori"), considering the healthy, adoptable cats we had just picked up. By the end of the evening, three of the five cats we had rescued from CACC that day had fosters. The other two I brought home with me.
But, by the end of the night I would have my answer on why the little black and white kitty seemed so sick. Paul called me around 11PM.
"I think Dori is having a miscarriage," he told me.
"Miscarriage? Are you sure? My God, how could that be?" My ears couldn't believe what they were hearing.
Paul went on the describe the tiny bloody blobs of tissue and half formed fetuses, Dori had just passed. Thank God, this didn't happen in my house!" I thought to myself. I couldn't begin to imagine the horror of it all.
"I am sooo sooo sorry, Paul." I told the young man earnestly. "We had no idea she was pregnant, being so young, skinny and all." "Its really OK, " Paul said. "Dori seems to be feeling a little better now. She's resting comfortably."
After talking with Paul, I immediately called Judy and yelled at her. "You know, Judy, we're really lucky this guy is so nice about it. Anyone else would have freaked out and with good reason! We can't ask people to take on responsibilities like this!" "Did he demand that we take Dori back?" Judy asked concerned. "No, but he'd have every right to, Judy."
Paul turned out to be an amazingly patient and forgiving person. With guidance and support, he successfully nursed Dori back to complete health within a few short weeks. We then arranged to have Dori spayed. After which, Paul formally adopted her.
Little did the young man know that day casually walking into Petco to browse at cats, he would soon serve as midwife, nurse and finally as happy adopter to a scrawny, mangy, pregnant, stray cat named "Dori."
The decision to rescue Dori was strictly heart over head. But, somehow between Judy's powers of charm and persuasion, the right person walking in at the right time and perhaps nothing short of a small miracle, it all worked out in the end.
Heart over head isn't always foolish -- when one is doing the right thing. Somehow that extra help from somewhere always seems to come through.
Judy never came with me to CACC again. But, the lesson (or miracle) of the rescue of Dori stayed. Over the years, there have been many "hearts over heads." Not all have enjoyed the same amazing luck and success that the rescue of Dori did -- but most have.