for the cats
It’s not news to say that I’m a fan of cats. I’m a fan of dogs, too, having fallen more in love with them recently due largely in part to the @weratedogs Instagram account (follow if you aren’t already!), but because of the lifestyle difference, particularly when it comes to travel and being away from home in general, cats are a better fit for my life. And so I feel endeared to them, the cats. So it’s no surprise that my recent effort to volunteer more at the animal shelter is focused on helping with the cats.
Look, it’s not like I really do all that much in the grand scheme of things. I go in first thing in the morning and give the cats new food and litter, change their water, clean their condos. And for those who are looking for this (not all cats stuck in shelters are), I give them a few minutes of attention and companionship. But it’s what I can do for them, short of adopting them all—which I cannot do. I will say this a second time, more for me than for anyone else: I CANNOT ADOPT ALL THE CATS. Yet I find this small bit of service to be so much more rewarding than you might expect. It comes from the cats, yes, their sweet faces when they see me. It comes from looking forward to each volunteer shift, a genuine excitement over getting the chance to help, to see what cats will be there. It comes from the room quieting down as each cat is fed and settled. It comes, I suppose, from devoting even a small part of your day toward helping—creatures, community—in some way.
What strikes me most though, out of anything else going on at the shelter, is the genuine sense of happiness radiating from the staff. Truly. I’ve never seen an employee there who wasn’t—and every time I’m seen them—happy. They dote on the animals. They revel in taking care of them, healing them, re-homing them. They chat animatedly about their own animals, about the adoptions of those in their care. They graciously answer any questions I have and thank me for volunteering. And I’m convinced part of the happy way I feel when I leave the shelter is due to the staff themselves. Because who among us is so lucky to enjoy work just that much? They’re surely not there for the money. But the work they do has a nobility the rest of us will never touch at our own places of work, the satisfaction of knowing they are literally saving lives. My point, I suppose, is that I admire this work. I think I even envy it. And so I encourage you to find a place—if not to work, to at least volunteer or spend some time around—that genuinely uplifts you. It makes a difference.