Fostering Attila

I've had a fostering experience, too, Makena. I brought the tiny little tortie kitty home with the idea that I would keep her until she weighed enough to be spayed. Then I would give her back to the shelter. She seemed so small and helpless....
Ha! Small, yes; but helpless? Oh, no! I quickly learned that Attila the Hunny (the name just came to me) had her own plan. She promptly took over the house, chewed and climbed the plants, chased Oso, the 65 pound dog upstairs and down, put JuJu and Zoe, the adult cats, on notice that big exercise was now in order.
In Attila's tiny terrorist mind, anything that moves deserves to be chased, chewed, climbed or swatted. She loves to assume grizzly bear stance and swat at the dog. When he retreats in confusion, she bats at his tail. Oso looks at me as if to say, "Can't you control this little bully?"
But even as she wreaks havoc, Attila purrs happily. She collapses for reviving naps and snuggles between attacks.
The truly amazing thing is that we all adore the little monster. The adult cats play happily with her and the dog wags his tail when she touches noses with him. I laugh at her antics until my sides ache.
Give her back? No way. I've adopted our little foster, how could I not!