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I lost my baby, Duke, 3 weeks before Christmas. I had raised him from an 8 week old little pup and lost him at the age of 12 1/2 to cancer. After two weeks coming home to a silent house, I decided I couldn't take it anymore and went to the local shelter. I was looking for a full grown dog, not having the time to raise a puppy, but didn't want to go any older than 2 years old. After looking at several dogs, I was preparing to leave empty handed and disappointed. The woman at the shelter asked if I'd like to meet Molly. She was 4 years old, much older than I wanted, and had been at the shelter over 8 months. She said it would make many of the workers really happy to see her get adopted since they all loved her. She was a cattle dog/Akita mix. I was told that she was brought in by her previous owners because she had killed the neighbor's cat and they threatened to sue if they didn't get rid of her. She was also originally mislabeled as a Pit bull. The woman at the shelter believed the issue with the cat combined with the mislabeling of her breed was the reason she was still there. The thought of her being in a kill shelter for that long tore at my heart so I decided to meet her. She was so friendly that I took to her immediately and adopted her. It took some time for both of us, me to get over Duke and her to bond with a stranger, but now she goes everywhere with me. She is truly my little princess. This Christmas marks two years together. I could not have asked for a better Christmas gift.
So, a kitten is found injured on the side of a country road. Her jaw is broken, she has a large bite wound on her leg that is full of maggots. She has an upper respiratory infection and is coughing and sneezing. The dedicated folks at the local humane society rush her to a vet, who is unsure anything can be done for her, but he's willing to try. Even with all she has been through, she purrs contentedly whenever she is held - so much so, that the staff automatically refer to her as Sweetie. Fast forward a few weeks and a volunteer is walking past the kitten cages after returning from a fund raising event - and she hears the story of this brave, little kitten - remarkably recovered and just looking for her forever home. Just hold her a moment, give her a brief respite from the cage. She purrs, she settles into the lap - and then she looks ups, stands, and presses her nose to the nose of person holding her, giving a small thankful kiss. Oh yes, she has found her home. Welcome Home, my little Dusti.
I found my little Bijou whenwhile taking a walk with my kids. My 16 year old cat Jinx had just died and I wanted so badly to replace her. While walking we came across this house where all these little kittens were running all over the lawn. I immediately saw a black and white tuxedo (Jinx was the same) and picked him up. The man who had the kittens said that the person who owned the mother cat was bringing the kittens to be destroyed the following day. I thought that was cruel. I would have taken all 4 if I could, but I called my husband and we took Bijou. A few years into having him, he was stolen from us. For 3 weeks he was gone in the brutal cold and a snow storm. I was beside myself. I put up flyers, contacted organizations and even contacted a pet psychic (who turned out to be invaluable in finding Bijou). Even tho she was located in CA and we are in NY, she drew a map exactly where he was. We went there daily to find him, calling out his name but with no luck. One morning I was getting the kids ready for school when the phone rang. A woman said to me "I believe I have your cat here". He was exactly where the psychic said. I started asking her about his cut ear and his markings. She told me she got my name off of his collar. My husband immediately went down and got him. He was dirty and lost weight but the minute he saw me he came to me and never left my side. From that moment on he was my forever cat and we are inseparable.
Our pit bull mix, Blockhead, needed a playmate, someone who would be big enough for serious roughhousing. I found an adorable "lab/shepherd mix" puppy on the internet in a nearby shelter, so we went to see him. Since he would grow up to be large, we decided to name him Brutus. As the shelter employee was getting Brutus for us out of a huge pile of puppies (his was a large litter), my husband was looking at the equally large litter of puppies in the next pen. I was standing there with Brutus in my arms, and my husband pointed at one of the other puppies and said, "But what about that one?" That one was a sweet little baby with a silver face and a pink nose. They got her out for us also, and of course she had to come home with us too. We named the girl puppy Minnie, after the great aunt of a friend. These two were a handful. If one puppy is a lot of work, two puppies is four times the challenge! But they were such sweet babies we loved them from the start. Minnie and Brutus have both grown up to be very large, and they play with each other and with Blockhead, who is still top dog around here. There are two morals here: SPAY and NEUTER your pets, and ALWAYS adopt rescues!
In 1997 I went back to school, one week into the school year this classmate of mine was late, she came into class apologizing for being late saying she had found a kitten in a back alley. I piped up and said I will take it. After class we went to her vehicle, the kitten was inbehind the gas pedal. It was the scrawnist kitten I had ever seen.
I took it home and bathed it in sunlight to get the grease and oil off, finally realizing it was a female. The hair was burnt off one side of her face and one leg, she had ulcers on her eyes. After her bath she was on the back of the recliner, I look up at her and she had the biggest ears I had ever seen (probably because she had just been bathed). I named her Gizmo (after Gizmo in the Gremlins with her huge ears). Took her to the vet and my vet didn't think she would live. My vet thought she might have been five weeks old and injected water under the skin to try and rehydrate her. Gizzy lived on my bed for two weeks and I gave her a stuffed elephant that she would suck on the legs.
Seven months later (Gizzy was going to be spayed), our house was broken into and the screen on my son's room was broke. Gizzy (who was strictly an inside cat) got out and rode under the hood of my truck to college (I had no idea she was there). I came out and started the truck and heard a aweful scream, never in my wildest dreams thinking it was my cat. I got her out and rushed her to the vet, she was operated on and lost her right front leg, they could not save it, she was spayed 2 months later. My Gizzy is now 16 years old and going strong, she still thinks I am her mother and she can get around just as well as my other two four legged rescues.
She beat the odds.
It was Christmas break freshman year. i had been harassing my mom about getting a new pet. On Christmas Eve, my mom came home from work and she told me to go get some bags out of the car. I complained at first, being a lazy teenager, but eventually I did it. When I got out to the car there was this little, furry mop named Nikkers sitting on the front passenger side. He had been brought to my aunt's Domestic Abuse house, but they couldn't have pets. He is a Shih-Tzu/Havanese/Bichon mix and was about 9 or 10 when we got him. He had been beaten with a 2X4 by his previous owner. At the time, I was going through a rough time in my life, battling depression and an eating disorder. Looking at him, I forgot about all of my problems. He was soo shy at first, all I wanted to do was cuddle with him. After taking him to the vet, and the groomer, we found out that he had had previous injuries that were never treated. We knew right away that it was going to be difficult, not only on him but us as well.We were going to give him all the love we had. He had almost no problems. (My theory: love heals all wounds). Now I am in my senior year of High School, and we just found out that his hip joint is misshapen. Now he is having troubles walking and his lumbar vertebrae have grown extra cartilage causing neurological problems. Eventually he will have to be put down but not without knowing how much I love him.
We were recently found outside by a nice couple. We are beautiful medium-haired white cats named Snowball & Snowflake. I’m the baby…you can call me Flakey; mom was found a few days before me. They were used to feeding/altering feral cats in their yard, but my mom was so gentle they easily picked her up and brought her inside. They soon realized that my mom was deaf. They had her spayed, tested for Leukemia (negative), treated for ear mites & given all her shots. They kept her inside their house rather than releasing her since she is hearing impaired. She likes to be held and brushed a little more than I do. She weighs 6 pounds and is about 1 year old. Four days later, the husband was over playing with my mom, when he heard “mewing” outside. In the carport he found me…a teeny tiny white kitten. He brought me inside and began feeding me formula with a syringe. The minute the husband put me down, my mom began grooming me….we were very happy to see each other. It was really tough out there all by myself for 4 days. Nobody knows how I survived. The vet said my mom must have only had one kitten (me) since she was unable to detect she’d had a litter at all. The vet estimated me at 3 weeks old at the time, 1.3 pounds, and I am deaf too. Three weeks later I had my shots and had gained 1 pound but they said I am too young to be neutered; I am only about 7-8 weeks old. As much as these people love us, they are unable to care for any more indoor cats. They have 3 other ones that are quite a bit older than us. So…they are looking for a home that has little activity where we can continue to live together. My mom dotes on me and I would not want to leave her. Are you the home that will understand our special needs and give us lots of love? I hope so. Love, Snowball & Snowflake.
I'm always looking at petfinder.com whether we want another dog or not. But when I came home one day to find my husband looking, I knew it was time to choose a pup too join us and our old Shepherd mix Tia at home. We applied for some pups, but one rescue never called us back, and the other's dogs had parvovirus and weren't be available for adoption. We applied to adopt a chocolate lab mix, but were told he was already adopted. "We have two other pups from the same litter who are available, though!" The rescue employee told us the litter of four pups had been abandoned on the side of the road in a box at the age of four weeks! How could anyone be so heartless and cruel? Now the puppies were ten weeks old and were in the prison fostering program.
I looked at the two available pups, both black lab mixes by all appearances. One was sitting down in his picture, with a slight tilt to his head, a very somber expression on his face, and a forlorn look in his eyes. I melted. Although the rescue was about 100 miles from our home, and I was sure there were plenty of adoptable puppies between here and there, we took a Saturday morning to go down and meet the little guy. There was never any question but that we would bring him home that day.
When my beloved Tia passed away about nine months later nothing brought me more comfort than having Jacky around to care for and hug. Well, our "little Jacky" is now a 100-pound (we believe he is a labradane!) big brother to little Mazie, another rescued black lab mix with strong border collie attributes. I love them like babies.
My rescue adventures started over a decade ago when my boyfriend and I decided that it was time to "grow-up", buy a home and start a family. By "start a family", I mean adopt something of the furry variety. After a tedious search, we agreed on an Airedale Terrier - inferior breeds need not apply. We contacted ATRA (Airedale Terrier Rescue & Adoption) and adopted a beautiful 2 year old girl by the name of Amelia Aire-Hart aka "Emmy". That neurotic, fuzzy nut ball stole our hearts and we knew that an Airedale brother was a must! Soon came, Mister Dudley. After having Emmy 4 years and putting her thru several chemo sessions due to Lymphoma, she left us at age 6 leaving Mister Dudley a depressed, only child but, not for long! ATRA honored us with another Airedale baby; we named her Big Booty Trudy and wow, does she have a personality!
Unfortunately, things did not work out with my boyfriend and I moved out leaving my beloved Airedales with him, in our once shared beautiful home w/ a massive, dog-friendly backyard. At first I thought "Look at me! I have my own apartment, I don't have to share a bed with a man or 2 huge dogs, I don't have to rush home to let the "kids" out - FREEDOM AT LAST!" Well, that sentiment lasted less than 2 months. I was lonely and dogless.
I started looking for small breeds in rescue. That's when I saw a Manchester Terrier puppy; I adopted and named him Mister Oliver Peabody. Then, I lost my job. That little boy gave me purpose; a reason to wake up each day, go outside and something to snuggle with at night. After 7 months, I returned to work leaving Oliver w/ great separation anxiety - it broke my heart and I knew, he needed a new BFF to keep him entertained. Again, I searched rescues for the perfect fit, found, adopted and named a little white Chihuahua; The Baron Von Wee-Wee. As you can see - they're 2 peas in a pod!
Victor came to us on an icy January night four years ago. He was just six months old then, but had been badly abused by his owner. The owner's brother took Victor (his name was Black at the time) to his apartment after the owner kicked Victor and broke his leg in three places. My son lived in the apartment next door, and when he learned Victor's story, he convinced his neighbor to take Victor to the vet. Fixing his leg was going to be very expensive with no guarantee of success, so they were advised to put him down. That's when we got a desperate phone call for help. We told the vet to do what he could to save the leg, and the next day, in an ice storm, we drove an hour and a half to get Victor and bring him home. Our sweet boy had a cast on his leg almost as big as he was. Over time his leg healed, just a tiny bit crooked, and he is now a big strong bundle of love and enthusiasm. Victor has earned his name, and we are so glad that he came to live with us and be our special boy.