I've always grown up around cats, and all of them happened to be strays-turned-house-cats. My grandma had three when I was a kid, and then my parents took in our neighbor's cat, Suzy, when our neighbor passed away. Suzy was an uncommonly beautiful, long haired, marmalade tabby that showed up at his backdoor one day as a kitten; she loved to be held like a baby and loved her lap time. When Suzy suddenly had to be put down back in 2013, none of us were really prepared; speaking for myself, there was always a bit of hole she left behind, and I went the longest span of my life without a family cat. My parents eventually took in another neighborhood cat (who might be the most docile, gentle giant I've ever known and is a pea in a pod with my dad), but I was still feeling a strong pull to have a cat friend of my own.
In 2018, I convinced Zack that we should look into adopting a cat, especially since we're lucky enough to live in an apartment that allows only cats. I'd been aware of Cat Town in Oakland for years and followed them on Instagram. Cat Town partners with Oakland Animal Services (OAS) and specializes in working with cats that are often considered unadoptable due to behavioral issues, being stressed, sick, or elderly. We visited the cafe/adoption center together and met a sweet, affectionate cat we loved, but due to a physical issue that left him incontinent, we couldn't take him in without risking causing a lot of damage to our apartment (cat urine is no joke). It broke my heart, and I stopped actively looking for a cat for a little while.
Then one evening I was scrolling through Instagram and saw Cat Town's latest post: a beautiful tabby named Sati was at OAS, massively stressed, and needed to get out ASAP. There was something about her that drew me in right away; I showed the post to Zack and he said without hesitating, "You should ask about her." His reaction was all I needed to reach out to Cat Town.
And boy, was Sati stressed. She had Angry Surrender Syndrome (and yes, the acronym is ASS), and was so riled up that no one had been able to touch her in the three weeks she'd been there. She had a two-sided cage that could be closed off when needed, which they used to usher her from one side of the cage to the other so they could safely feed her and keep her cage clean. But I could tell, seeing her play through the bars of the cage and meowing between her growls, that she was probably just stressed out of her mind more than anything. Dawn from Cat Town was really wonderful and transparent about Sati, and recommended that instead of adopting her outright, which I was prepared to do on the spot, we should foster her for some time first to ensure she'd be a good fit for us, particularly because they had no way of knowing if Sati would wind up eventually calming and warming to us. "I'm more worried about you guys than I am about her," Dawn said, which was a fair assessment.
I had a lot of questions about Sati, too: was she a stray before her former owner had her? How long did they own her? Why did they surrender her to the shelter? Dawn acted amazingly fast at reaching out to Sati's former owner, who we learned had found Sati behind a dumpster when she was three weeks old; he married and had a baby, and his wife felt uneasy about Sati when she found her in the crib with the baby more than once. So they surrendered Sati to OAS. (While I can understand being a worried first-time parent, if Sati wanted to hurt that kid, believe me, she would've done it as soon as she wanted to, because she doesn't hesitate with her paws of fury.) Her former owner claimed that she was a total lap cat, and had a cat friend that she was submissive to in his apartment complex; in her current state, it was hard to believe she could be submissive to anything.
We brought her home and she spent the first night in our bedroom, tentatively peering around. She did not want to be touched. We fostered her for a month, but she spent that entire time avoiding us where possible and showing no signs of affection. Then suddenly, one evening as we got home from work, Sati came trotting up to us, meowing and rubbing against our legs. It was a total 180 from the previous weeks; she then jumped up onto the kitchen table, demanding pets. I got choked up and knew we'd finally earned her trust.
I emailed Dawn and let her know we were ready to move forward with adoption — and Sati officially became our Olive.
Cat Town was extremely generous and sent us home with everything we could've needed for Olive: food (a pallet of cans of wet and a bag of dry), toys, a cat scratch bed, they were even willing to give us a litter box and cat bed, though I'd already bought those.
I couldn't have had a better experience with Cat Town, and it's clear that their passion and drive is all fueled for their genuine concern for the cats in their care. Focusing on the cats most in need, and who tend to get overlooked, resonates with me. It's hard enough being in a shelter and seeing all of these faces looking back at you, wanting to be free. It's even worse knowing that the ones who don't "make the cut" because they're "too old," have a preexisting medical condition (which requires more time, money, and attention), or who might be perceived to be "too mean" (like Olive was, but not by Cat Town or OAS) could wind up never going to a new home. I'm not trying to compare human children to animals, but similar to how older children tend to get overlooked for adoption by people seeking babies, so too do adult cats tend to get overlooked by people wanting kittens.
On the flip side, seeking out special needs or "unadoptable" animals has become a bit of a fad, as the owners of @meetmayacat, a special needs cat, mentioned on Instagram back in November. Olive has behavioral issues that may never go away, that we didn't know would continue almost two years after adopting her: she's aggressive towards some family, her mood can change on a dime even while she's sitting in your lap (as Zack's scarred hands can attest to), she refuses to allow anyone near her tummy without trying to rip them to shreds, and she seems truly, deeply frightened of being lifted into the air, at any height. She requires more patience and extra work than a typical cat, particularly when guests are over, but we would much rather put in that work than have left her in the shelter, where she most likely would've been euthanized for being untouchable, let alone unadoptable.
I believe strongly in what Cat Town and @meetmayacat are trying to do: bring awareness to the cats that get forgotten and ignored, to give a chance to the ones that continue to get passed over in shelters. Like Olive needed someone to give her a chance. But I think it's also important to note that this can mean a great commitment of time, money, patience, or resources, and that you should be prepared to stick with your cat for the long haul. Going back to the shelter is one of the worst things that can happen to one of these cats.
Olive is something special. She brings us such joy, has a hilarious personality, and she's filled with affection (especially for Zack), greeting us at the door every evening with her chirps and coos and jumping on our laps as soon as someone is on the couch. Cat Town is something special, too, and we wouldn't have Olive in our lives if it weren't for them. If you're in the Bay Area and looking for your own cat friend, I highly recommend checking them out and following them on Instagram, where they're very active and regularly post about cats that are eligible for fostering or adopting, in addition to posting updates on cats that were adopted in the past.