I've always been a sucker for a furry face.

[missmiah]

I'm not really a people person.

I'm terrified of loud dogs of all shapes and sizes, and of the teeth and claws of cats (and mice and ferrets and even hamsters, etc), but I will say, if pressed, that I am an animal person.

I'm one of those who has no problem watching someone get nommed by zombies in a movie, but can't even look if there's a puppy in danger on the screen.

My house is full of "Puppy" and "Kitty" and "Thumper Butt" and "Where's my baby? There she is. There's Mommy's pretty little girl." and other disgustingly cute baby talk directed at my four little child substitutes.

Because I am a sucker for a furry face.

Domesticated animals trust us. They want to believe we will care for them, and pet them and make them safe. Even if you mess up, if you scream because someone has just eaten his way through the back of your sofa, or if you freak out and lash out in anger and fear because your seventy pound baby has just lunged across the coffee table at your unsuspecting sister with his teeth bared and growling because she had a cheeseburger and he wanted it, or can't help but wince because you know you're going to have to hunt down the cat again, for the billionth morning in a row, to medicate him and he hates it and you hate it and he thinks you're torturing him and you know it's for his own good... even after any or all of that, they still come back to you, tail wagging or face pressed against your hand with a purr... because they trust and love you.

Unconditionally.

Until you do something, something hugely drastic and possibly repetitive and so excessive that even they have to give up on you.

Anyway, that's a completely and utterly maudlin way to lead up to... We have a stray.

I'm pretty sure she's a girl. A small, nearly completely black, female cat. Kitten?

I would say she's full sized, but underweight. So thin.

She's friendly. She's been hanging around the neighborhood and house for months, and if she's around when we leave or come home, she'll run up to us and butt her head against our hands and roll over to demand pettings just like our Bella.

Her ears are huge for her face, which is why I suspect she's still young and she's underweight. She hasn't grown into her ears yet.

I want to feed her, but I'm afraid that if I do, she'll expect food from us, that she'll stop hunting and gathering for herself, and that when we move she will die. Or, she'll be drawn to our house and she'll end up dead on the train tracks beyond the back yard, or hit by a car in the street, or even worse, hit by our car in our driveway.

I mean, I know that she hangs around even without us feeding her, so the chances of any of the above happening should be no greater than they already are, but right now... Right now, she's not my cat, and I tell myself that if something happens to her right now, it won't hurt as much because she's not mine.

I know, I'm such a liar. I was attached the first time she let my husband pet her.

But I can not - can not - take in another animal.

Especially not right now.

I'm waiting, not at all patiently, to hear back from the vet this afternoon with the results of Colonel Brandon's biopsy. His Cushing's tests are scheduled for Monday. I have enough animal related woe to deal with right now.

But I really, really, really want to find a home for her.

Unfortunately, the only no kill shelter in the area is full. And I just...

Is it better to try to get her admitted to one of the kill shelters - although most of those are full too - or just let her run wild and hope that she'll be okay?

I know there isn't anyone that I know who can take her, I'm not asking for that (unless?!) but I just want some advice.

I want to know what to do.