The Story (Finale)

To finish this tale of eventual woe...

I hit up the shelter first thing after work on Monday. The Wife and I had been texting ideas for naming them, so I was in excite mode.

I enter the cattery, say 'Hi' to a couple of gals who recognised me from Saturday, but something wasn't right. Seems they aren't much in the mood for meeting my gaze this time. I didn't see Shelly, but another gal came bouncing up, asking me if I was going to pick a new kitty. Huh?
No, I'm here for those two deaf ones.
Uh,oh...Ummm...
We had some problems this morning, and... uh....

Evidently, several of the cats had contracted what they said was an upper respiratory infection and had been moved to isolation. According to them, it was highly contagious. It was explained that in "ISO" they would receive meds, and then hopefully be released for adoption after about ten days of observation.

So, I didn't get my cats, but was told I can call back in a couple of days to check up on them. (OR, pick something else from the cattery, they stressed. I didn't like the sound of that). Before I left, I made damn sure my boys were indeed in ISO and not 'some other' place. They were.

Still not sure if they were feeding me Happy Talk or not, and them unwilling (or unable) to grant me any additional details, I left, making it very clear to all involved that they would be hearing from me again.
I wasn't so cheerful anymore, and they knew it.

On Wednesday, I called.
The news was not good.

In so many round about words, I was informed that my boys would not be available for adoption ever again.
Still, the chicken shit bitch didn't have the guts to be straight up with me. But I knew.

On Saturday, the Wife got tired of seeing me mope around and ordered me back to the shelter. Maybe somebody else might touch my spirit like those did. (She doesn't get it, but she meant well.) While I was there, Shelly approached, offering her apologies. After some conversation, she offered to investigate the details of the matter and get back to me privately. (Just tween her and I, because she wasn't suppose to do this.)
She also offered that there may be a slim, very slim, chance that they may have been placed with a foster to care for them as it happens on rare occassions.

She called me later that day. According to the files, the boys were too sick to be saved with the shelter's resources. No, it wasn't a cull. And they weren't alone. In total, ten cats went down from the outbreak. She explained that they were probably already infected when I had been there, with the syptoms not showing up til Monday morning.
Quite possibly, bringing them home with me would have infected Maimie, my other cat. Maybe, it's just better that I did wait that extra day.

But still, I can't help the feeling that, with my procrastination, I have failed them.
And it hurts.