Over the last five months Jolene and I have been fostering kittens. As someone that has alergic reactions to cats (and dogs) and yet can’t stay away from them, this sounded like an awesome idea. You go to the shelter, you take home some kittens, feed’m up, hold on to them until they can get spade or neutered, and then put them up for adoption. It’s a limited time thing – you don’t have to worry about longer term care because, well, you don’t get to keep them. Along those same lines, when you get attached to one of the little buggers, it can be hard to let them go but then you remind yourself that “Hey, you can’t keep them anyway so at least you can send them off to a good home.”

That’s what stings the most about Espresso Chococat. We got her when she was mere weeks old. Got her spade after she got over two pounds. Took her to an adoption fair with two other kittens; she was the last to go and she went to a guy that looked like he’d be good with her. Life was good. Last Friday, Jolene got a call from the shelter asking us we were the ppl that had a black kitten named “Espresso”; the guy that took her home brought her back to the shelter because she wasn’t eating and he couldn’t afford the cost of the vet. The shelter took her in and ran some tests on her… it wasn’t clear why she wasn’t eating but she had a sizable tumor in her stomach. Chemotherapy was an option for her but a) they didn’t think she’d survive because she was already bone thin and b) it would be several thousands just for the initial treatment. Left with no other option, the shelter put her down this week…

*sigh*