Meet Strawberry, the out-of-focus foster. Not sure if her extremely unusual visage offends the sensibilities of my persnickity Olympus, or if she's simply not used to mugging for the media. Strawberry (as lovingly dubbed by my daughter, Smartypants, because her ears turn a pleased pink when she's pet) is a very rare Devon Rex, and a foster from the Humane Society of North Texas.
So... how did we get just here? Welcome back, by the way. After the unexpected return of two of the littermates from the prior fostering saga and a slew of health issues suffered by myself and the notorious Hugh, I've finally managed to recover enough from the storm to perhaps begin anew with CatUnderfoot. Periwinkle and Daisy returned from an unsucessful homing, and both were very sick. After three months of careful fostering, I was able to just today take them to the Humane Society Adoption Center for their official (and darn-well-better-be) final homing.
I couldn't leave two without hoping to at least take one with me, and I was angling very, so very hard for a litter of kittens who were being surrendered at the same time Peri and Daisy were being processed into Adoptions. However, I had already been assigned to Strawberry (unbeknownst to me). The volunteer coordinator kept referring to her as "that godawful ugly cat." She's not much of a cat person. As soon as I saw Strawberry's paperwork, I got goosebumps. A Devon Rex! They're so rare. How did one wind up, unwanted and sick at the H.S.? Seems unheard-of to me.
The assistant at the adoptions center desk explained that they tried to get the local Devon Rex rescue to take her, but they dropped her like a hot-potato claiming that she was "too old and fat" to be worth bothering with. She's, at maximum, 10 ounces overweight and six years old. C'mon people. You're letting a little upper-respiratory scare you off? Profit-mongering jackasses.
Strawberry is extremely lovable and enjoys company. She's currently in our "Cat Room," which is the front bedroom area that functions both as Sick Bay and office. She would very much like to roam the rest of the abode, but Darius and Solace do not need a cold right now. No, No, No and Hell No.
I called Guns to explain to him that there is a Devon Rex in our Cat Room.
"Not 'Who.' 'What!' A Devon Rex!"
"Who the hell is Devin Rex?"
"DEVON Rex. Like Devonshire, England? It's a specific cat breed."
"Why is there another cat in our house?"
"I took Daisy and Peri in to be adopted today, remember? I brought home another foster."
"Oh. Oh! The kittens are gone. Cool. New cat? Nifty. Ok."
So I sent him a picture, and he calls back with, "Awesome! Damn, it's ugly. Can we keep it?"
Over the course of the evening, I pulled up some information on Devon Rexs for Guns to peruse and we all spent time getting to know our odd-looking little charge a bit better. She's worse for the wear, that's for sure. The tip of her tail is kinked where someone slammed it in a door, and her upper teeth are rotten from a lifelong diet of low-quality canned food (which could also explain her pudginess). She explodes from the nasal region on a regular basis... she just couldn't kick the upper-respiratory infection, but who possibly could while residing in the infirmary at an animal shelter?
Guns is already trying to convince me that we should just keep her. She took to him right away, inviting herself into his lap and purring despite the goop clogging her motor. She tolerates Smartypants' nonsensical puttering and chattering and seems to like the attention. And her fur, as odd as it looks, is bunny-soft. Despite Guns' first impression, "Does she have mange?" (No, she's just different. Thanks), he surprised me by taking such an avid interest in her so quickly. Perhaps I'm just fated to find the unusual unwanteds.
Doesn't sound like such a bad rap to me.
If you're in the Fort Worth metropolitan area and would like to consider Daisy and Periwinkle for your family, please feel free to send me a comment or go to: