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When I moved in with my boyfriend, I had to leave my older cat behind with my parents. My boyfriend noticed that this had made me very depressed. After just a few month of not being able to get over my depression my boyfriend decided we would go adopt another cat. I am really glad we did. That day I met Vivi.
The first time I went to pick her up she almost threw up all over me. After that, of course, I knew I had to meet this little cat. While visiting her, I noticed that her tail was only four inches long, and was broken in three places. The shelter had no clue how it had happened, or whether or not she was born with it like that. It didn’t seem to bother her, so I didn’t think too much about it. The next thing I noticed was that she couldn’t meow. She sure tried though making a cute little ‘meh’ sound whenever she opened her mouth.
That sealed it. This gorgeous cat was coming home with me. That wasn’t the end of it though. Vivi had a severe upper respiratory infection. She could barely breathe, she had green mucus coming from her nose and eyes, and just didn’t look too healthy. She spent her first two days with us on my lap taking antibiotics every few hours. After a few weeks she began to get better, and started acting like the four month old kitten she was.
However, her breathing never got better. Sure she felt better sometimes, but every once in a while she would start breathing heavy, or just struggling completely. I took her down to the vet one morning when she was barely breathing at all. The vet got her x-rays and gave her a shot of steroids. It turns out that Vivi had asthma, and this would be something we would have to take care of her whole life. As I have struggled with asthma my whole life I can think of no better person to take care of this beautiful little cat!
My husband and I wanted to get a kitten for his mother who has m/s and had a cat for 17 and half years who passed away. So we decided to go to the aspca in nyc. We wanted a female. So they took up to see the females in one room and didn't see anything we liked. So they took us to the next room where we saw this little gray ball of fur. She was the most beautiful cat I have ever seen. so right then and there we decided to make her our new family member for life, She was 3 months old when we got her. She is now almost 5 years old.
I was on Facebook looking at the page for our local animal shelter. There was a cat named Melon who was the featured pet of the week. Her back story touched me to the point that when I picked up my youngest child from school, we went to the shelter to see Melon. The volunteers there brought us into a visiting room and brought Melon to us. She immediately began to love on me and on my son. We asked about her life and found out she was adopted from the very same animal shelter we were in at the time and the family that took her, had her fixed, got her shots, did all the routine tests. For some reason, they had her only a short time and took her BACK to the shelter! What could have happened to that sweet girl that made them return her?
My son and I looked at each other as the volunteer told us that the adoption fees are waved since Melon was over a year old. That sealed the deal. I filled out the paperwork as my son held Melon and they inserted the "Home Away" chip into her neck. They put Melon into a cardboard carrier so we could bring her home. Needless to say, she was MAD as she could be over getting the shot and then being put into a box.
On our way home, we were listening to a song by the singer Pink. Melon stopped crying when she heard the music, my son decided we should name her Pink. So Melon became Pink in a matter of seconds.
We brought her into her new home, she now shares our lives with two other cats, Amie and Remington, along with one dog, Koko, and seven fish.
When my husband heard about Pink's previous life, he didn't get mad one bit but instead he petted her on the head and said so softly (he didn't think I could hear him) "Welcome to the family Pink."
She is the best Valentine's present we could have gotten for our family.
In July 2010 my husband and I were looking for a pet and saw a picture of Miley on Petfinder. She was advertised as a small, adult dog and we thought she'd be the perfect lap dog for us. Well when we met Miley we realized she was not small (she weighed about 55 lb.), and she was a senior, but we had to have her anyway. The workers were elated, poor Miley had been there for over a month and her outlook wasn't good. Of all the dogs in the shelter she was the only who seemed calm and wasn't barking, but was still so happy to see us and wagged her tail and licked our hands through the bars. We decided to adopt her and took her home. She was a bit rough to start, she didn't get along with other animals at first and had a lot of health issues to deal with. For the first week or so she wouldn't even walk up or down the stairs to our apartment because her poor old joints hurt too much. I considered returning her because of her behavior towards other animals and her inability to walk our stairs, but it broke my heart to even think about returning her to that awful cage. We decided to stick it out and I'm so glad we did. Eventually Miley learned to manage our stairs like a pro and she adapted to other animals. She had to have surgery shortly after adopting because she was covered in cysts and had a lot of teeth problems, but she healed well. She was such a lover and had a sweet demeanor. Around Christmas 2012 Miley started having occasional seizures. We took her to the vet and they thought perhaps it was an infection. She was treated for the infection but the seizures continued. One day in February 2013 Miley passed while lying in her bed. It still hurts thinking about it but I'm so happy we were able to make her last few years as great as we did.
For many years my friend and I had been feeding some stray cats in the neighborhood. One that we nicknamed Yellow Kitty had been around for well over two years. Last fall I noticed that Yellow Kitty was very sick. Since I could not get close enough to touch him, I set a trap on a rainy October Sunday. Within minutes he was in the trap enjoying the food I had placed inside. My intent was to get him well and then put him up for adoption. I took him home and transferred him to my bathroom. I started him on antibiotics that day. He was very feisty, but soon allowed me to pat him a little bit at a time. (I had multiple scratches and small bites over the next few months.) Two trips to the vet and two more rounds of antibiotics and Yellow Kitty was well enough to go to the Spay and Neuter Clinic. It was then that I found out he is FIV positive. I brought him home and moved him into my living room where he would have plenty of room to run around. In the meantime I contacted a shelter that accepts FIV+ cats. They had a waiting list so I agreed to take care of him until there was space at their shelter. I just did not think it would be possible to integrate Yellow Kitty with my other three cats. After Christmas I decided to allow some supervised visits. The visits went surprisingly well and within a few weeks he no longer was isolated in my living room. It was then that I realized I could never surrender him to a shelter! I decided to keep him. My favorite thing? Watching "Julius" play! My second favorite thing? Contacting the shelter and telling them to take him off their waiting list.
Scamp, my Maltese at 8 years old was adopted from my veterinarian in Brooklyn, where he was being treated for some sort of perceived skin condition. He was a puppy that the local pet store deemed un-sellable due to this rash on his back. There he was running around happily with my vet's other dogs, with a scab on his back. The vet told me that the Maltese puppy had been there five weeks, and that the rash was not contagious and that they were treating it with steroids, I believe and a cream. He was a great dog and that I should take him home with my other babies, all adopted, who were with me getting check-ups. You could tell that this baby had gone through quite a lot of poking and prodding in his young life, because to this day he stays and takes the poking and prodding with no complaint. It turned out that the rash was merely a birth mark of which he has several. Definitely un-sellable by pet store standards, but the best humored, smartest, happiest, most lovable dog anyone could ask for. When I took him home, he laid on the linoleum floor in the hallway, afraid to walk on the rug , having not stepped on one before. The next day, he was playing and running around with my older Pekingese chihuahua mix Delilah, as well as my other two adopted cats. We may have been a blessing to him, but he has been a blessing to us. Here he is now, currently 8 years old, with another of our adoptees, Piccolino whom was found eyes sealed and not yet weaned from his mother. We bottle fed him and now as you can see, Piccolino adores our Maltese Scamp, who seems to be getting used to it. :)
Well I was not looking for a dog at the time as I already had two cats in a one bedroom apartment. Someone had posted free dog to a good home. I emailed the lady and asked her to send me a picture of him. I couldn't get Peanut out of my head. So I emailed her again and asked her how he was around cats and she said she didn't know since he had never been around them. He had been her grandmothers dog and she got dementia and to old to care for him anymore so that is why they were giving him away. I asked her if she could bring him to me and if him and the cats didn't kill each other then I would keep him. She brought him over and one look and I knew he was staying. She told me at the time she was glad that I was keeping him cause they were gonna take him and have him put down if no one wanted him. Turned out that he was 10 years old and not 8 like she had told me but that did not matter. I could not walk very well at the time after having a hysterectomy and then shortly thereafter breaking my ankle in three places and had plates and screws put in to repair it not to mention I also have Multiple Sclerosis, Degenerative disk disease, scoliosis and arthritis. We saved each other cause now I can walk pretty good and he has a lot of life left him and he motivates everyday to keep moving. I love him so much. He is so spoiled. He will not even eat dog food he is use to me cooking for him and I found out that his original human mommy use to cook for him too. I can't help but think that somehow from wherever she is that she had a hand in it somehow bringing the two of us together even tho I never met her and did not even know if she had passed before then.
As the Animal Control Officer in 2009 I came across a cardboard box left on a picnic table in the state park. As I approached the box I could hear small shallow whimpering. I opened the box and to my horror I found eight frail little pups no older then 4-5 weeks. They were cold, scared & malnourished. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing! There had been a severe thunderstorm the night before so they were wet and shivering. I immediately took the box and rushed them to my vet. I knew they would be surely put down if I brought them to County (as I should have done per protocol). As we were drying them and trying to get them warm I picked up one of the little body’s. I could see his eyes as he looked at me pleading for me to help him. I could feel his little soul begging me to save him. I knew then that he was the one that I had to have. I held him gently in my hands I could feel his little heartbeat and it brought tears to my eyes knowing this little guy was counting on me to save his life. He didn't know what he did wrong. That night as he lay sleeping next to me I thought I lost him. He let out a sigh, and it sounded like he quit breathing. My heart stopped! I gently picked him up and cradled his little body in my hands praying he was alright. As I looked at him he opened his sleepy little eyes, looked at me as if to say let him sleep then he closed his eyes nodding back off comfortably. That was 4 years ago and he just celebrated his 4th birthday in June. When I brought him home I gave him to my son for a birthday but Loki thinks he is my dog. My son says I am grandma to him. Loki survived although two weren't as lucky. You can follow Loki and his other rescued adopted siblings on Facebook
When I went back to school to become a registered vet tech, I decided to get a job that would allow me the most hands on experience. I found it at a small, no kill shelter. On my first day I was introduced to Quincy, a 2 year old shepherd mix. Quincy had lived most of his life at the rescue. Once adopted and later returned, he feared strangers, and had a bit history. Quincy was the most athletic, beautiful, sweet dog once you got to know him. But that was the problem. A behaviorist and 2 trainers had given up on him. Discussions about euthanizing always ended with, "but its Quincy." It was decided that he would always have a home at the shelter but could not be adopted. In order to keep him away from visitors, he had to stay in the exercise yards whenever the rescue was open. Little by little, I got to know him. Using his love of fetch, I slowly introduced him to volunteers. He thrived with his new friends. Quincy wanted only to be with "his people" but strangers being in his building proved too much for him. I asked about adopting him but was twice turned down. Finally when the summer months started getting to hot for Quincy to stay outside, I asked about taking him home for a few days. At my place, Quincy immediately settled in. He was never more than 5 feet from me. He slept in my bed, and greeted me when I came home. Within 2 weeks, it was decided that I could adopt him. That was 2 and a half years ago, and while he still fears stranger, he feels safe while with me. He has made my house a home.
I have always wanted a black Lab. That was "my dog" anytime I saw one. So when I finally stopped traveling so much for work and could devote the time, I started my search with local Labrador Retriever rescues. I was put on waiting lists. I decided to see what the area shelters had to offer.
Have you ever been to an animal shelter? I hadn't and I was not prepared. The barking, the smells, and so many precious lives in cages, instead of laps or backyards. It was so overwhelming. I almost took home a very active 1 year old, but I wanted to check one more shelter. At my last stop, I got lucky...literally.
He was the only dog not barking. I asked if he was deaf or medicated - nope, just very relaxed. Really? Isn't that strange? Well, Lucky had been to that shelter a few times. He and his litter started out there. He was adopted out, but started running away. The last time he ran away, he got hit by a car so his adoptive family returned him to the shelter. When I saw him, he was still healing from those injuries - matted coat, covered in scabs, and underweight. But something drew me closer. Even though the shelter recommended an experienced dog owner because of his escape artist tendencies, I knew I had to have him. We both got lucky that day.
I think he has tried to escape once in our 8 years together (just wanted to explore more), but generally he is my shadow. We love taking long walks, long car rides, and long naps together. Lucky loves other dogs and agility. He's a good example for Sasha, my mischievous Beagle mix. They both bring me a lot of joy and I'm so glad I made room in my heart and home for the quiet stranger in the corner.