For the past three years, I’ve dedicated my time to Hills Cat Rescue, providing a temporary haven for approximately 40 rescue kittens and cats. My role is to nurse these vulnerable creatures back to health and then guide them towards their forever homes. This process typically spans one to three months, a period filled with dedication and, at times, a profound sense of connection.
There are moments, inevitably, when a particular kitten captures my heart. Often, it’s one of the smallest, the ones who have required the most intensive care. Witnessing their transformation, seeing them grow stronger and more vibrant, is an incredibly rewarding experience. The temptation to keep them all, to offer them a permanent place in our home, is strong.
However, the core of this work is about finding these animals loving, permanent families. With so many cats and kittens in need, prioritising their successful rehoming is paramount. This understanding is what usually allows me to say goodbye, even to those who have left a special mark.
Recently, a friend’s innocent question, “No disrespect, but how do you part with them?” struck a chord. The honest answer is: with considerable difficulty, and the challenge varies from one animal to another.
The Arrival of Cosmo and the Winston Hills Eight
Cosmo’s journey with us began when he was a mere three weeks old. He was a tiny, fragile creature, scruffy and unclean, struggling to regulate his own body temperature, a constant shiver his only companion. He arrived as part of a group of eight kittens, aptly named the “Winston Hills eight,” discovered in a garden in Winston Hills. These eight kittens comprised three separate litters, with Cosmo belonging to a different litter than the other seven placed in my care.
Each of these little ones required significant individual attention. My partner, Shamus, our children, and I were all involved in a concerted effort of bottle and hand-feeding, and the constant task of preparing and replenishing hot water bottles to keep them warm.
A Fight for Survival
Cosmo, in particular, presented a unique challenge. In the initial days, I had to force-feed him. He displayed a distinct lack of will to live, fighting every attempt to nourish him. Yet, I persisted, several times a day, gently squeezing sugar water and formula into his mouth. Shamus would often carry him in his shirt pocket, providing him with constant warmth. I, too, kept him close, holding him with one hand while managing household tasks with the other, ensuring he remained warm and secure.
It took several days before Cosmo began to show signs of improvement. He gradually started to accept his feeds, no longer spitting out the formula but instead eagerly joining the other kittens. His early feeding style was a comical sight; he’d stand in the middle of the food bowl, lapping from all sides, inevitably covering himself from head to toe in the process. He was simply too small to manage it any other way.
Milestones and Gradual Independence
Cosmo’s progress continued. He was eventually able to navigate the litter box, though getting himself out proved to be a challenge. Climbing the stairs was another hurdle he overcame last. While he could ascend them independently, he still required assistance to get back down.
A Heartwarming Outcome
The rest of the Winston Hills eight have all found wonderful forever homes with loving families who dote on them. Seeing them thrive in their new environments has brought immense joy and warmth to my heart. Secretly, I had hoped Cosmo would be the last to find his home. As the smallest and still catching up developmentally, I cherished the extra time we had with him.
The Bittersweet Farewell
Now, an incredible forever home has been found for Cosmo, and his departure is imminent. In the days leading up to his handover, I’ve been trying to create a little emotional distance, a necessary preparation for his leaving. Yet, he remains my shadow, following me around the house like a devoted puppy. I find myself unable to resist cuddling him, showering him with kisses, and whispering how much I love him. He is, in every sense, special. His personality is wonderfully amusing, and he’s incredibly playful. Just yesterday, he was observed bringing corn chips into Shamus’s office, dropping them at his feet as if they were precious gifts. We’re still baffled as to where he acquired them!
During the Christmas and New Year period, when I was unwell, Cosmo was my constant companion, snuggling as close as possible. Every night, he sleeps with us, and we both instinctively reach out for him during the night, seeking his comfort and ensuring he’s safe. When I’m working, he’s either on Shamus’s lap or perched on his shoulder, like a tiny, affectionate parrot.
The thought of his absence is almost unbearable. His departure will leave a significant void in our home.
The Reasons We Can’t Keep Them All
I anticipate the thought that many will have: “Just keep him!” However, there are compelling reasons why this isn’t feasible.
- Existing Pets: We already share our home with two cats, Timmy, a rescue from our local vet, and Jack. Jack was our very first “foster fail.” He was so deeply traumatised that he struggled to interact with potential adopters, so he remained with us permanently.
- The Foster Carer’s Dilemma: If I were to keep every kitten to whom we formed an attachment, our household would quickly swell to at least a dozen cats, a situation common among many of my fellow foster carers.
- Living Situation and Personal Capacity: Furthermore, many foster carers with multiple cats are homeowners. I, on the other hand, am currently renting. Even if homeownership were a factor, I don’t believe I’d ever comfortably manage more than two cats at a time.
But Cosmo is my dear, beautiful, sweet little boy. The family who will be welcoming him are understandably thrilled. They have a young child who will undoubtedly shower him with the love and attention he deserves, which is a significant comfort.
Beyond the Cuteness: The Reality of Fostering
When people first learn about my fostering work, their comments often revolve around how “fun” and “cute” it must be. While there’s undeniable truth to that, the reality is also a substantial amount of hard work. This is especially true during the initial two weeks when kittens are learning to eat. They often huddle together in a confined space, a “kitten tent” that requires frequent cleaning.
When they are very young, they haven’t yet developed the ability to groom themselves, so this essential task falls to us. Once they master eating, the process of litter training begins. Crucially, we dedicate as much time as possible to socialising them, ensuring they are comfortable with human interaction – being held, kissed, hugged, and played with.
Navigating the Void
The idea of immediately moving on to a new group of rescue kittens to fill the void left by Cosmo is not appealing right now. I need time to process this departure; there’s only so much heartbreak I can endure. I keep reminding myself, Shamus, and the children that we have done excellent work and feel incredibly fortunate to have found wonderful homes for Cosmo and all the others.
I often wonder if they will remember us, or if all the love we’ve given them resides somewhere deep within their consciousness or souls. In the past, I would personally deliver the kittens to their new homes, and my daughter would inevitably cry for the entire journey home. These days, the new owners collect them from my house. To each departing kitten, I offer the same farewell: “Love you forever.”
After a final kiss and hug, they are placed in their carriers and sent on their way. I request photos from each family once the kittens are settled, which often arrives as early as that evening or the next day. I also ask for a photograph of them when they’ve fully grown. Then, I move on.
It doesn’t truly get any easier, despite what I might tell others. However, knowing they will have fulfilling lives provides solace. A part of me hopes they will carry all the love we’ve given them, and all the love my partner and children have shared, with them in some way, even if our memories fade.
