Well, friends. Ezra has left the building. His story is kind of a long one, and not a typical adoption tale to tell. Let's start at the VERY beginning...
SOOOOOO... a very pregnant Mama Lyttelton showed up on the doorstep of a family's home and ended up giving birth there. Mama stayed with her babies until they were about a month old, then snuck off never to be seen again, leaving her kittens behind. The family cared for the kittens for another week, then brought them into the Humane Society.
The Lytteltons spent a couple of days in the foster room, then moved in with us. They were such friendly, trusting little beings from day one, it was obvious wherever it was they started their lives, they got lots of love an attention while they were there.
About a week later, I got a call from Traci, the foster care coordinator at the HS. She had just spoke with the woman who had brought the Lytteltons into the shelter. She couldn't stop thinking about that dear little Ezra, and was hoping to get her boy back.
He, of course, was already being fostered, so she would have to wait until he was at least two months, two pounds and neutered before she could adopt him. She was disappointed that she had to wait, but he was worth it, so she did.
Fast forward one month later - Ezra is two months, two pounds, now neutered, and ready to go.
I brought him back to the HS and said goodbye.
It did feel a little strange not knowing exactly where he was going, or who he would be moving in with. For most folks who foster, that's the way it always is - you surrender your foster babies when your work is done, and they find their adopters at the shelter. We're so lucky to be able to hand select our families.
Kind of weird, but I'm completely OK with it. I've said this before, but some how, some way, our kittens ALWAYS end up where they are supposed to be. The universe has a way of always sending the perfect families in our direction. I trust this, and even though I didn't get to meet Ezra's family, I'm sure they were meant to be his.