“Fospice” Cats Leave Lasting Impression

I began fostering cats for Seattle Humane a little over seven years ago, and after I had fostered just a few, one of them was returned with kidney disease and he became my dear “fospice” (foster hospice) Fitz-kitty, a very gentle soul, who was with me most of the time until he died about a year and a half later.

After him I had a few fosters with considerable Cattitude, so when I saw a notice of “Opinionated Siamese” Lim Lee needing foster, I felt able to give it a try. His opinion turned out to be that no one was to be trusted; his owner had died and he had been shuttled about until he was completely traumatized, and he spent a couple of months hiding under a living room chair. Usually I never saw him at all; once or twice I saw him moving with glacial slowness to the kitchen or litterbox, hoping not to catch my eye. But when he finally thawed, he became extraordinarily affectionate and trusting — with me. Clearly, he had found home, and I adopted him. 

I renamed him Kittiboon, a name for males meaning “Famous Merit” in Thai. I don’t know how I would have gotten through Covid isolation without him. I taught class by Zoom, with him on my lap, and introduced him as my teaching assistant. 

He suddenly developed epilepsy about a year and a half ago, and we did what we could to control it with medicines. Finally he was too weak, and I had to let him go. Mr. Handsome, sweet, neat, dear and delightful, furriest and purriest, most loving and beloved, that is the Kittiboon story.


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