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In November 2010 I was driving to a friends home about 2 hours away when I received a phone call from another friend. She said her boyfriend found a kitten in his backyard and that the cat that the kitten had been hanging around with died because it had been so cold at night and that they were scared if they didn't find a place for this kitten it would die too. My friend only thought of one person to call that would possibly take in some random kitten - ME. I already has 2 cats that had gone through a bunch of changes in the past few months and thought another cat being brought into the mix wouldn't be a good idea. Especially for my eldest cat who had the tendency to be a bit grumpy. But as soon as she said the kitten would die I couldn't say no.
That evening when I returned home I met this new little kitten. She was not exactly friendly. She was terrified. For the first four days she stayed in my bathroom and hid behind the toilet and hissed every time I came near her - which made having to go to the bathroom interesting - and destroyed several rolls of toilet paper. It was then that I came up with her name - Sassy. Eventually she realized I was safe and I slowly began bringing her out to the livingroom while the other two cats were locked in my bedroom. She immediately would climb up on my shoulder and snuggle into my neck and fall asleep. The other two cats became curious about her and next thing I knew she was cuddled up next to my old grumpy cat licking his head.
From a feral kitten found in my friend's backyard to a hissy, sassy brat, and now to the most cuddly cat ever. Sassy can't get close enough to me. She loves to lick - which drives me crazy and she loves when I kiss the top of her head. She is my Sassy girl and I adore her.
Once upon a time there was a little kitty that didn't have a home and lived in a cage
And there was a woman who had a home that didn't have a kitty
So the woman went to the adoption center and brought the kitty home
Now the kitty had a home
And the home had a kitty
And the woman had a home with a kitty
And they all lived happily ever after
Late 2012 and 2013 were terrible years from the stand point of loss. Four of my best human friends and three of my furbabbies died. It wasn't until Bogart, my Tuxedo kitty died, that the entire situation really got to me. So many things were going very wrong in my life, and now my Bogie died. Bogey was so warm and comforting, in spite of his illness...always giving me love and cuddles, wrapping himself around my neck and purring non-stop. When his time came, I could not imagine how things would play out.
Eventually, I began watching the pages of the local Humane Society. Nothing touched my soul, though many touched my heart. One day in December 2013, - there she was! Tiny, white, blue-eyed and such a searching expression. By the time I got to the Humane Society,the cage she was listed to be in was empty. Eventually they found her, though by the time they did, I was sure I had missed her and was almost in tears. Her name was Precious. And she truely is precious. . But no kitty should live alone. And soon the search began again.
Abby was in the back of her cage, curled up in a litter box. I had almost missed seeing her. Others were looking at her but I acted first. She was impossibly tiny, and as I held her, she purred like a jet engine. She gave me cheek rubs, kissed my mouth and clung to my shirt for dear life. Once home, Precious gave the required hiss to this interloper, but within a week, they were eating from the same dish. Precious, now 11 months and Abby, just 12 weeks are now my life lines in an unpredictable world. They are not replacements for my kitties that died though they fill a spot in my heart and the emptiness in my soul. Precious is my seal/tortie point siamese and Abby is my blue/tortie point siamese. . We will be together for a long time to come, I hope.
My boy Tiger was living on South Beach with a homeless man who used to give him beer and coffee every day. I used to walk by and offer him some hamburgers...one for him and one for the dog he called "Tiger" who seemed happy to be with someone who obviously loved him...in spite of the awful diet and living conditions on the street!
One day out of impulse and pity for both of them, I offered the man a $20 bill in exchange for his dog who appeared to be in need of some medical attention at that time. The man agreed...and with what appeared to be some sadness in his eyes, he said goodbye to his faithful companion Tiger, and asked me to take good care of him. I promised him I would..and I walked away with my shy and fearful new boy named Tiger, who turned towards the man several times as we walked away...almost as if saying goodbye and thank you to him.
I never saw that homeless man again even though I often passed by that same corner where he used to hang with Tiger. I imagine he found another place to pass his time, and I can only hope that perhaps from time to time...he smiles when he thinks of his old dog Tiger...in his new forever home.
I still pray for that man and hope that he's happy and content...wherever he is. And I thank God for my boy Tiger...every single day that he is in my life <3
About 10 years ago, I had to have my beloved black tabby Max put down because of a recurring urinary blockage. He'd already been operated on once and the blockage recurred within weeks; the vet said there was a high probability that he would block again. He was in severe pain and the most humane thing to do was to euthanize him. I was devastated but I wanted to do what was best for Max so I agreed.
I've had cats most of my adult life but I couldn't even think of replacing Max for quite awhile until my ex-boyfriend told me about a yellow tabby cat family that lived in the street near where he worked. The mama and babies were being fed by neighbors so they kept coming around. Two of the fur babies were so cute, he had named them Sunspot and Bumblebee; "Sunspot" because his fur was so yellow, and "Bumblebee" because his stripes were so pronounced, he looked like a bee. He had tried to catch the mama but she was too quick...and then one day he came home from work with Bumblebee in his arms. One look at that face and I totally melted. That was about nine years ago.
The boyfriend and I split long ago but I got custody of Bumblebee, who I like to refer to as my 'dog in a catsuit'. He follows me from room to room, tries to jump in my lap whenever I sit down, comes when called by name (if he feels like it, of course), and has been a comfort to me through long term unemployment, breakups, the passing of someone close to me, and every other wrinkle life has thrown my way. We may have rescued Bumblebee physically but he has rescued me emotionally many times over. Anyone who thinks all cats are aloof and independent has never owned one, or should I say, has never been owned by one. If cats are supposed to be aloof, Bumblebee apparently didn't get the memo.
I'm a Veterinary Nurse, and one morning a man came to the surgery to ask what to feed a kitten. It turned out he worked in a scrap yard. Yesterday a car had been brought in and that evening they heard crying from the engine. When they looked they found 3 tiny kittens who were covered in battery acid and had to be put down. The next morning the car was due to be crushed and was lifted by the crane when the driver heard loud distressed cries. He immediately stopped and they found another kitten who was covered in oil but otherwise ok.
At this point I had no idea how old so asked if they could bring the baby in. When they did I realised he couldn't be more than about 10 days old. He was black with oil & I've never heard such a loud cry from a tiny baby. We bathed him to find a tabby coat, weighed him at 85g and fed him. He immediately settled and slept. The man who found him wanted to keep him but couldn't hand rear him, so it was agreed, I would and when he was old enough the man would take him. I got so attached. He slept in a basket by my bed for 3 weeks, and came to work with me. We weren't apart until he began to wean, and then only for a few hours each shift. The man came to visit regularly and as the time to hand over got close he realised how attached I was and asked if I would like to keep him, and 'Munchie' became a permanent addition to my cat family. He was special & I was always his mummy who could do anything to him without argument. Sadly I only had him until he was 8 - he developed cushings disease (rare in cats) and I had another 8 months before it finally got him. I think about him and miss him every day but know how lucky he was surviving that first night in the scrap yard.
About ten years ago, I was living alone in a small apartment, single and lonely. I came home from work one day and decided it was time to find a roommate, preferably, a feline.
It was too late to head to the local shelter, so I decided instead to go to Petsmart, where they keep local shelter cats.
Upon arriving, I immediately fell in love with one small, frail girl by the name of Chloe. She was so excitable from the moment I laid eyes on her. She kept pawing at me as if to say, "get me out! I'll go home with you!"
When I talked to the girl working, I asked why her adoption fee was so small. She told me that Chloe had been found in a ditch, missing part of her ear due to what they thought was frostbite, and had stomach problems. She "wouldn't live that long," was what the girl said.
I opted to take her home on the spot.
As soon as we were home, she warmed up and laid by me on the couch.
Fast forward 10 years, and she still spends all her time by my side. She loves to take my hand in her paws and fall asleep every chance she gets. She's been with me through a failed engagement, many moves and two other rescue cats, one of which passed last year while I was dealing with losing a toe to amputation.
Even though she's getting older, I would never trade our time together for anything in the world. Her undying love and adoration has always made me a happier and better person, and I always return her the same favor.
Meet Milo, the cuddly Maine Coon. I had been feeding strays in my neighborhood all summer long back in 2012. Milo was the only one to come up for food while I was out there. At the end of the summer, my boyfriend and I were going through a nasty break-up. One night, I was out for a walk while on the phone crying and upset over a fight. Milo came out from a bush and pawed at my feet playfully. I quickly hung up the phone and scooped him up. Once inside I said to my ex, "It doesn't matter anymore if you don't love me, he will love me and he is mine now." Milo has helped me far more than I ever could have expected and l love him dearly. Now, that same ex is my fiance and since then things have been running smoothly. Right now Milo is at the vet with a severe asthma attack but is recovering and should be home tomorrow. Every day I am so thankful to have Milo in my life and our second cat Raven, a short haired tuxedo. Together we are family.
Excuse the ragged couch (very old) saved both of these beautiful fur babies years apart. Kovu, the grey one, was abandoned on the side of a dirt road. He was only two weeks old and had a severe eye infection. I took him in, brought him to the vet the next day and got his eyes cleared up two days later. He's so handsome. He is my, 'Handsome Prince Kovu.' He is now four years old. The orange tabby is Toes. He has 8 toes on his front paws and 7 toes on the back ones. While working on the mail run I felt something furry rub on my legs. I looked down and he meowed the cutest voice as I yelled, "Toes!" Then he jumped into my arms. He was just over a month when I found him. He is now two. They're both amazing and I'm glad I have them. I didn't rescue them, they rescued me <3
I met Bubba volunteering at the local spca,he was one year old, every one thought he was a Manx . I watched him walking down the hallway and noticed something wasn't right. That was a Friday, the following Monday when I came in his anus was on the outside of his body, after 5surgeries the vet told me Bubba had been abused, his hips had been crushed leaving several fractures, his tail had been completely chopped off and the vet had to remove some of his intestines and bowel. Bubba had to be on a specific diet or he could implode. I took him home with me and spoiled him every day. He was always happy but always in pain, his love was constant and inspiring. After 15 years one day I just" knew" it was time. The last minutes I spent with him he was purring and looking into my eyes thanking me for being his rescue mommy. I still picture him hopping up and down the hallway, happy, lovingly wanting a headbutt ( his favorite way to show affection as touches and being held were painful for him) doing only cute things a cat that hopped like a rabbit could do. My hope is that when Bubba crossed the rainbow bridge his memory of his abusers are gone and the happy carefree life he had carries on. I MISS YOU BUBBA GUMP,MOMMY WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU!