About a year ago, I had to go to a conference for work. The day before, I picked up a stand off the local "swap and save" Facebook page, and while I was picking it up, an emaciated shabby cat limped up on the porch, crawled up on the old couch, picked the only spot of sunlight, and curled up. I couldn't leave him there, because I knew he'd be dead in the winter cold by the time I returned from my travels. So I came back with a cat crate, put him in, took him home, set him up in a cage, reported him as "found" to animal control, contacted my long-suffering cat caretakers to warn them of the new arrival, and boarded a plane to Texas.
It turned out he had mange. He tolerated lime-sulfur dips, ivermectin injections, and isolation down on the first floor of the cat facility.
Today he got his home.
He's a city cat now. I took him off to Syracuse this morning, and I forgot to take photos before I left but by the time I got home his new guardians had already texted me pictures.
We have a "no adoption fee if you buy a good solid piece of cat furniture for your new cat" policy. I think you can see now, from the photo above, why we do that (although Pierre's new mom gave a donation as well which will help with three feral spay/neuters on March 1). A cat with furniture all of his own is a happy cat indeed.
I think he's going to have a wonderful life. I'm going to miss my silly Scruffy/Pierre, but I'm so glad to see him happy and out of his big cage here at the Owl House.