Update:
The pound did not discard my application on the adult male, whom the volunteers have named Bryson. Instead, they made a note on it about the delay in the timing of the adoption.
The volunteers have given Greta a name, too. It’s two letters different–the last two letters–from my last name. If (when) she comes home with me, her name is going to be Greta. She’s not going to have a funny-sounding name in which the first and last are almost identical.
One of the staff advised me to have them make a note about Bryson not to euthanize him. I’d finished my visit with him and was cuddling Greta at the time. I went to the employee at the desk and said I thought they went to the humane society shelter. Turns out the humane society comes over and gets cats they think can be adopted. Ferals and cats with negative histories usually aren’t taken. I told her to put notes in the binder of applications NOT to kill Bryson or Greta.
When Bryson was in the interaction room with me today, he almost turned over on his back, the ultimate expression of kitty trust. I think he even meowed in his kennel when he heard my voice. Greta was having a good time batting at the reflections in the lenses of my eyeglasses.
About four cats had paperwork filled out on them today to be adopted.
H’s things are scheduled to be removed from the second bedroom on Nov. 24. I told the employee staffing the desk that, if no one else adopts Bryson before that, I will complete the paperwork/pay the fee on the 25th and Bryson can go to the spay/neuter clinic on the 26th. His seclusion room will be ready for him.
Will ask the neighbors to remind the landlord about the letter, and also to ask him if there’s any means of contacting him that he’s willing to let me have.
If it were cleaner in here and I had the letter, I’d probably bring Greta home next week.
I wonder if I’m trying to fill the void that the end of my marriage created by stocking up the house with cats. Choosing a successor for Gabie isn’t unusual, but I’ve always said my limit is three cats. I’m in love with Bryson and Greta. I was in love with H, too, and you know how that turned out.
God doesn’t seem to be telling me anything one way or the other about this like he did when I was engaged to H. I just ask him for his will to be done. Shelters can’t reserve cats for people, so if I should not have Bryson or Greta, have someone else adopt them before I’m prepared to take them into my home.