I don’t get paid to do what I do for animals. I do it because I care. And I think somehow it makes a small difference.

But not all days have rewards. Some days are tougher than others. Today was a tough day.

Moxie has been sick for almost a week. Throwing up. We got her roundworm medication, which also made her throw up. I took her in to the vet to get weighed this morning because of how skinny she’s gotten. She weighs 4.75 pounds right now. Which is down half a pound from her peak at 5.25. Which doesn’t sound bad. But she was 4.5 on her first weigh-in. So she’s gone almost all the way back to the beginning.

I was also contacted by the folks that work with Animal Services on feral and stray cats. Of the three cats confiscated from my hoarding neighbor, one had already been returned to the neighborhood, and the two girls had been put up for adoption. But apparently there was so little interest in them, that Animal Services wanted them out. At least it wasn’t euthanasia. But the girls were going to be returned to the neighborhood.

The only problem was that my hoarding neighbor and her family were at the house working on the yard all morning. So I asked for a delay on releasing the cats.

This afternoon she brought the girls to release. Zelda took off in a blur of fur and panic. Zoey tried to curl up in a corner of my porch, meowling. I don’t know if she’s ever been outside.

She’s tiny. She’s scared. Her belly is still shaved from getting spayed. And she has no idea what’s going on. I couldn’t just leave her out there. She was happy to sit in my arms. So I brought her inside. A friend gave us a medium/small dog crate she wasn’t using and it came in handy for the moment. Zoey is in a quiet, dark, calm space for now. I have no idea what is best for her, but it’s obvious she’s on her own now.

I hate that there’s no room for these little ones. I hate that animals pay the price for people being stupid. I hate that I now have 20 cats in my house. Five are mine. I spoke up for them. But the other 15 are cats that no one seems to want.

The alternative is life on the street. Is that really an option for a little cat that probably hasn’t been outside before? I can’t accept that as an option.

These are the days I wonder why I do this.

On the other hand, I controlled myself from crossing the street this morning and starting trouble with the hoarding neighbor and her family. So I guess *gold star* for me there.