It’s a purrty good life at city cat sanctuary
Reliant on donations and volunteers, the privately-run Woonsocket Cat Sanctuary has been rescuing abandoned felines for almost 25 years
WOONSOCKET – Deb Adam, the director of Woonsocket Cat Sanctuary, recalls the time a woman she had never met before showed up at the door to make a donation.
“This is from my mother,” the visitor said as she handed Adam an envelope. Adam began leafing through bills.
“I saw $20s, $50s,” she says. “By the time I was done counting it all, there was $500. I said, ‘Oh my God.’”
Generosity on such a scale may seem unusual, but cats have a way of bringing out the best in some people. And it’s a good thing for the Woonsocket Cat Sanctuary, a private no-kill shelter that has managed to survive without any public funding for 24 years, thanks to a die-hard clan of loyal volunteers and a largely anonymous network of regular donors.
The $500 donor from Adam’s story isn’t even a unique case of felinein spired largesse.
“The amounts make you cry sometimes,” says Sharon Knettell, a longtime volunteer at the sanctuary.
In fact, the beneficent stranger from Adam’s anecdote returned to the shelter a second time after making her initial donation with another $500, dropping it off while her elderly mother sat outside in the car. Adam went out to make sure the woman was in full command of her faculties and to be certain she might not need the money for something else, like food or medicine.
The altruistic senior citizen insisted on giving the money to the cat sanctuary because she was sure it would be used for helping animals – not to support some bloated administration masquerading as a do-gooder group. Helping cat castaways
Located in a cellar-like space built into the side of a hill at 266 Mendon Road, the cat sanctuary is situated below a liquor store, in part of a building that once housed a business that specialized in hippie-era clothing and drug paraphernalia. On an average day, there may be as many as two dozen cats in the shelter, lounging in wire cages stacked against the walls or, possibly, romping across the desk in a corner set aside for clerical chores.
The furry four-leggers who populate the shelter can be kittens or curmudgeons, but one of their most common features has nothing to with age, lineage or temperament. Often, it boils down to this: Someone didn’t want them.
Cats generally arrive at the shelter as drop-offs from owners who are no longer able or willing to care for them, or they’re castaways turned in by someone who finds them astray – invariably not in the healthiest condition.
“People think they’re disposable,” says Knettell. “They have a kid, they get a cat, it’s cute, and then all of a sudden they toss it out. Often it’s because they don’t want to pay for the veterinary bills.”
The Woonsocket Cat Sanctuary’s mission is to restore to health all the cats it takes in and adopt them out to loving, responsible families. Though food, litter and cleaning supplies consume a good chunk of the sanctuary’s donation-fueled budget, the lion’s share goes for veterinary care, according to Adam.
But some of the sanctuary’s tenant felines will never make good pets, admits Adam.
Take Chief, for example. At a municipal shelter, he wouldn’t stand a chance.
The shaggy domestic seems to have a permanent scowl etched on his face and, Adam says, “he sprays.”
But he’s been with the Woonsocket Cat Sanctuary since 2009, and he’s not going anywhere – ever. “He’s the house cat,” says Adam.
Lucy and Ethel – the inseparable, orange-andwhite tabby siblings – are an easier sell. They were snapped up at the tender age of six months by former Bellingham selectman Guy Fluette and his wife Suzanne on Friday. They were replacing another pair of cats they’d adopted from the shelter – 15 years ago. The last of the duo had just died.
“We were looking for two,” said Suzanne. “They didn’t have to be siblings.” Any volunteers?
A Blackstone resident, Adam, found herself irrevocably devoted to the care and maintenance of these hardluck animals nearly a quarter of a century ago after her own cat died. Looking to adopt, she found her way to what was then known for a brief time the Woonsocket Chapter of the Volunteer Services for Animals.
“Volunteers Needed,” a sign in the window said.
Adam took home an older cat named “Friskie” that day, but she returned, again and again, to clean cages, feed the residents and help the original founder, Paulette Tessier, keep the place running. Eventually, she took over as director.
With no public money or philanthropic grants to support its mission of animal compassion, Adam does everything imaginable to help make ends meet.
One important source of revenue is an indoor yard sale the sanctuary runs every weekend in an attic-like space above the facility. The event is suspended during the summertime, however, because there’s no air conditioning and the venue can become stifling hot this time of year. The sanctuary also holds special events, including chowder dinners and group shopping events.
But no less vital to the sus- tainability of the organization is the dedication of its unpaid volunteers. The sanctuary currently relies on about 40 regulars.
“There’s so much love to be handed out, and to give,” says Jane Walker, a teenager from Uxbridge who gives about six hours a week to the sanctuary. “You get it from them and you give to them.”
Like Adam, Knettell has been with the organization practically from the very beginning – 24 years. What keeps her going? “I just hate to see animals in pain,” she says.
But Knettell and her crew of cat-lovers say no one is more indispensable to the Woonsocket Cat Sanctuary than Adam, the only paid staffer at the registered nonprofit.
“The shelter would not run without Deb,” says Knettell. “If they had a citizen of the year award, they should just automatically give it to her every year.”
Another volunteer couldn’t resist the temptation to chime in.
“Deb’s the cat’s meow,” she says.