Friends-Down-the-Street have decided to adopt Sparks. This is nice, because it means she won't be too far away. But even though said friends live just down the street, I almost never see them, so I'm not overly hopeful I'll see much of her anymore either.
The Children-of-Six have really bonded with her, and, contrary though it sounds, that actually has more influenced my decision to give her up than anything else does. They have loved and wrestled and bullied most of the scratchiness out of her, so that this morning I could pick her up and carry her around the whole time I made coffee, and she fell asleep in my arms. It was very wonderful, and I thought, "I'm not sure I want to give this little one up after all."
But the reality is, it's the kids she's been bonding with, not me. I have been home this week a grand total of maybe seven waking hours (until today) and when I have been home and awake, the kids have been playing with her, so I've had scarcely any time with her at all. The longer they're here, the closer they'll bond, and the harder it will be when the Family-of-Six inevitably leaves. She'll miss them, and I hate to think what that means she'll do to, say, the furniture. So it seems kinder, in my mind, to give her to some people now who will love her and take good care of her and be home a little more than I ever am to spend time with her. I know cats are low-maintenance and everything, but this one seems to thrive on attention, and I am able to give her very little. So on Sunday, it seems, I will be saying goodbye.