I just turned 29. When I was sixteen, I volunteered with a cat rescue group. For two years I went every Sunday and cleaned the cat cages, and then stayed and answered questions and took applications for the cats. Somehow I managed to convince my mom to let me foster a cat. We ended up keeping her because she loved my brother. Then I began fostering more cats and kittens. At one point I had sixteen kittens living in my room. I don't know how my mom got on board with that except she wasn't good at saying no. I bottle fed kittens, took them to the vet, handled their adoptions, the whole nine. I only stopped because I went away to college. When I left college six weeks into it I was too mentally ill to take on the responsibility again.

Someday when I have my own place I might consider fostering again. It really helped me.