The new Le Cat Café, run by Green Street Rescue, a nonprofit shelter, has lots of wonderful cats and kittens available for adoption.

by Stacia Friedman

Anyone who has lost a furry companion, be it a cat, dog or hirsute husband, knows that it’s never simply a matter of getting another one. Every four-legged (and two-legged) loved one has his/her own unique personality, intelligence and temperament. Sometimes you are better off with a creature that is nothing like the one for whom you are grieving.

That was my thought when I made an appointment to visit Le Cat Café in Brewery Town run by Green Street Rescue, a nonprofit shelter. The purpose of the Café is to offer cats for adoption and to provide “cat companionship” to those who are unable to adopt.

My goal was not to replace Lola, the Siamese stunner who left a cat-shaped hole in my heart when she died recently, but to open myself to a very different sort of animal.

Lola, for all her beauty and intelligence, was like living with a Kardashian. Next time around, I want a little less attitude. I also didn’t want to make a snap decision. I wasn’t going to Le Cat Café to adopt right away. I was just going for some much-needed cat therapy.

As it happened, I had visited the SPCA on Erie Avenue earlier that week. Not to adopt but to interview a staff member. When she gave me a tour, my heart sank. Every cat and dog pleaded desperately with their eyes from inside a cage. It was like visiting Death Row. “I’m innocent! Get me out of here!” they barked and meowed. I wanted to rescue all of them. But I wasn’t motivated by altruism. It was guilt, bordering on terror. Emotionally, I was just a checkbook away from turning into one of those wild-eyed women who hoard more animals than they can possibly nurture.

What struck me as soon as I entered Le Cat Café was the total absence of cages, unlike pet stores where you have to look at animals through Plexiglas or through metal bars at the SPCA. The first to catch my eye was Butler, a handsome, light apricot Siamese mix, sprawled luxuriantly across the reception desk. A half-dozen or so cats of all sizes, breeds and colors lounged about, allowing themselves to be petted and admired by patrons seating at Parisienne-style bistro tables, sipping coffee.

The concept of Le Cat Café is novel, and the rate of adoption is high for obvious reasons. Here you can spend an hour interacting freely with kitties and see their personalities in action. Cat toys were scattered about, encouraging guests to engage the animals in play. Some furry creatures perched in the window luring passersby on Girard Avenue as if it was the Red Light District of Amsterdam. Others cavorted on built-in shelves, purposely arranged to allow the cats to climb almost to the ceiling. I felt like I was in a high-class feline bordello. Think “Belle du Jour” meets “Fritz the Cat.”

The cats were all healthy-looking, friendly and active with thick, glossy coats and clear, curious eyes. There was a simple explanation. Green Street Rescue fosters cats in loving homes and only brings them to Le Cat Café when they are fully socialized and ready for adoption. I watched as a cluster of 20-Somethings went gaga over Abigail, a gray kitty who rolled onto her back and exposed her soft white belly to their gentle hands. An older woman clucked over Cheerio, an adorable orange tabby. Meanwhile, I did a double-take at Oreo, a golden-eyed, black and white tuxedo cat who was a dead ringer for my childhood pet.

As feline therapy goes, my first visit to Le Cat Café was a success. I left knowing that, although there’ll never be another Lola, I will be able to find a congenial furry companion when I am ready. I guess I really didn't want to adopt a cat for a few months. I was going for "therapy," to be near fuzzy little creatures just like men go to “gentlemen's clubs.” Not to take them home but to rub up against them.

Stacia Friedman, a Mt. Airy resident, is a satirist, author and founder of the website, www.dailylobotomy.com.