A Parting Shot

I couldn’t take it any more.

Mr. White Deaf Cat, my foster for the past couple of weeks, is easily the most curious, agile, destructive force I’ve ever encountered with four legs and a purr. After about a week in the foster room he discovered how to open the lower doors on the corner cabinet in the foster room. This wasn’t an easy feat, since the doors have rather strong magnets to keep them closed. He hauled out a seven pound bag of cat kibble (among other things), chewed it open, and created an all-you-can-eat buffet for himself and Indiana, the other foster cat.

Fortunately, the cabinet has an upper storage area, not reachable by a cat on floor level. I cleaned up, patched up the food bag as best I could, and stored it in the upper level.

Two days later, WDC figured out how to open the upper doors as well, and had once again created an all-you-can-eat fiasco. I started storing the food on the upper shelf of a closet in the room. The closet has sliding doors that several foster cats had figured out how to open, so I barricaded the doors with heavy boxes front and back to try to prevent further breaking, entering and breaking.

For alternate activities, Emerson had perfected new and insightful ways to terrorize Indiana, many of them requiring nothing more than an heavy stare. Indy started spending time in a cubicle downstairs. His diarrhea, which had resolved after a month in the foster room, started up again. Indy also began to vomit food soon after eating. Both problems, I strongly suspect, are related to stress.

Today I sent Emerson to the store. I spent some time creatively phrasing the description on his cage card, emphasizing his high energy level and love of adventure. I also mentioned he had an admirable meow, without actually getting into decibel levels.
Farewell, Emerson. Good luck to any future owners. Caveat emptor.