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It was a chilly June day in upstate NY... My neighbor comes over to say she hears a cat crying from under my deck... I ran to check it out and there was no cat. A few hours later she comes back over and tells me she thinks it's coming from my car.
I can hear it too. I lift the hood of my car, and there was a frightened little orange kitten... no bigger than the palm of my hand. In fear.. he went deeper into the engine... After much coaxing I finally got this little guy out. He was so little and so scared. Where had he come from? He was starved, flea infested and filthy dirty. I cleaned him up.. fed him.. and crated him to take to the vet.
He was treated for the fleas and dewormed. The vet said he was in good health otherwise and about 5 weeks old.
I already had 3 grown cats. Another cat was not in my plans. I couldn't help thinking what would have happened to him had I gone out that day.
He was destined to be mine. It's been over a year now.. and this little "punkin" has stolen my heart and is best buddies with my other guys.
I don't know where he came from... or how he found his way to my house but he has turned into the smartest, funniest, sweetest little lover anyone could ask for.
He was sent to me for a reason. They say God works in mysterious ways and He blessed me with my little Punkin.
I was living in rural Arkansas and looked out the window one morning to find a tiny black puppy struggling through the long grass in our meadow. I brought him inside and put a sign out front that I had found a puppy. That evening his owner stopped by to get him. I was heartbroken, as I had bonded with the little guy, but the owner said that there were others in the litter and his friend was trying to find homes for them. He offered to bring me one. The next evening, he presented me with a fluffy little red puppy that became the most wonderful dog in the world. I named her Lulu. She was supposed to be pure lab, but she grew into a beautiful, red retriever mix. We had lots exciting adventures together, moved across the country, and she mentored many foster puppies. She loved everyone she met, and would become instantly enthusiastic about anything and everything if you used the right tone of voice to ask her opinion. Sadly, she was only 7 years old when she was diagnosed with cancer and she crossed the rainbow bridge way too soon. I adopted the last foster pup that that she mentored, and there are times that I can still see Lulu when he does things that she taught him. I will always miss her.
Growing up I had been allergic to pretty much everything. I received allergy shots for a few years, which allowed me to enjoy the 2 cats we had, but after growing up and moving away from home, the shots slowly wore off. My allergies intensified to the point of severe allergy attacks from just being in a house with a cat or dog for even a scant 10 minutes. Wanting to be able to just visit friends who had pets and not worry about allergy and asthma issues, I started allergy shots again in the fall of 2009. In Januay 2011 I felt the shots were working so well we decided to rescue a cat, and striped tabby Sheldon came into our lives. Allergies were not bad at all, and I was thrilled! The following summer, we added long haired orange Chewie to the household.
A year passed, and we while we had talked on and off about a dog, I was very reserved about how much more work they are than a cat. In July of 2013 we stopped at a local rescue event and we fell in love with a little black 9wk old GSP-mix pup that we adopted at the spur of the moment. We named her Penny and we really had no idea what we were in for. She had major separation anxiety, and it was a lot to work thru those first few months, but so worth it.
We kept in touch with the families who adopted the rest of the litter, and in January 2014 one of the families was looking to rehome their pup, Lucky. I had always felt that if we got a 2nd dog it had to be one of Penny's siblings, and this news made me ecstatic! Long story short, we adopted Lucky and it has been awesome! He has helped with her anxiety and she has helped bring him out of his shell - and all 4 of them help make our house a fun, crazy, entertaining home.
My partner and I had the most amazing kitty. She was our baby. She acted like a mini human, and we loved her very much. One awful night she was hit by a car, and she passed away. We were devastated, missed work and couldn't really cope with it. We didn't really want another cat, as the pain of the loss is hard.
Months later, we came home to our empty house, but this time we saw a big black cat on the neighbors lawn. We had seen him once before, months and months ago - he'd snuck in and stolen some of our cats food - he was homeless. He was skinny, but tall, and drinking some water that had been put out for him. He didn't look like he was enjoying life, and we knew he wasn't theirs. We whistled to him, and he dashed into our house without a second thought. We still had some cat food handy, and he ate about 5 small cans of food, before running off into the evening.
He had a broken rib, which was sticking out, and had fleas. Our local vet came to the house to treat him, and once we got his papers in order - he somehow knew he belonged with us. One night, he just relaxed, and never left. Being a big boy, we named him Cthulhu, after a mythical creature. Not very flattering, but he comes running when we call him, and is enjoying life. His old owners (whom we contacted once the vet scanned him) didn't care what had happened to him so their loss is our gain.
Eight years ago, after the death of my second cat when I was barely 19, I really wanted to get another cat, but this time, I decided to get two cats since my area in outback Australia could be a bit on the savage side. Both were semi-ferals, and I pretty much rescued the two I chose from an abusive household.
Nonetheless, I got two little kittens - a ginger named Turbo and the one in the image, who I named Bubbles after her love for attacking bubbles when I took a bath. Turbo was the one I fell in love with more, and was named for his energy, while Bubbles was very shy, and preferred to just hide than seek affection. It took me a few months to fully tame Bubbles, but Turbo took to people very easily.
Despite my family's protests (who didn't believe in spending money on pets) I had both of them fixed and vaccinated. We moved away from that hellhole of a home into the city... however, three years passed and Turbo was killed by a passing drunk driver.
Devastated, Bubbles seemed to pick up on my distress. She took up some of Turbo's personality traits and became more outgoing and friendly towards me, as if to say 'I'm still here for you'. I felt that, and I loved her just the same.
However, nothing is without tragedy it seems for me and pets. Bubbles too got swiped by a car when she escaped the house during Easter - but she was luckier than her brother and survived. After dying on the operating table and being resuscitated, she recovered from a broken jaw and head trauma like a champ.
Bubbles is sweet, quiet, gentle and just all around the most adorable cat I've ever owned. I'd do anything for her, anything to keep her healthy and happy, no matter the cost. She's survived everything the world has thrown at her, and still remained a loving, beautiful cat with the softest fur I've ever felt.
A wonderful cat, who saved me.
I had a close friend reach out to me during a particularly bad 'Kitten Season'. A well meaning but poorly informed lady dropped five very young kittens off at animal control, not knowing that that pregnant cats and nursing kittens without a mother were routinely euthanzed without rescue intervention. My friend asked if we would be willing to take on one or two of the kittens, since my daughter and I had experience with young ones. I said 'Why not all? If we are up feeding one or two, five can't be much more work!'
On the day of the Royal Wedding we picked up a basket of five gray/brown tabby 10 day old kittens with their tiny eyes just opening. We named them after kings and queens of England, Henry, Bess, William, Kathryn and Victoria. With feeding every two hours, we learned exactly how much work five kittens could bring, juggling work schedules, endless trips to the store for kitten milk and baby wipes.
Henry was a stand out from the start, first to earn his name and escape. Feeding would always begin with a tail count ... 1, 2, 3 ,4 ... where's Henry? Under the rug, in the tub, under the sink, in the sink ... you get the picture. Despite a rocky start, Royal Kittens thrived, got active and went to forever homes.
However, Henry's taste for adventure and a chance encounter trying to climb mini blinds, resulted in a broken knee cap. Kitten knee caps are lentil-sized, rarely broken and surgery is not an option. Our vet was willing to try alternatives, knowing amputation was on the table if the knee did not heal. Six more weeks of adventure, hanging from staircases, giving his cast to the dog as a chew toy, getting stuck in all sorts of odd places and a succession of casts, the final one was removed. Henry limped but romped like a kitten. We failed in foster, but won a gregarious, loving clown who entertains and loves all he meets.
After losing my sweet dog, Lucky, to cancer, I didn't think I could find another dog that would compare to the loyal, fun, and loving companion I had raised from a puppy and shared my life with for the past 10 years. After moving to a new city for work, the loneliness was almost too much to bear without my constant companion following me everywhere I went and making me laugh each day.
On an especially low day, I got a strong feeling that I should see a shelter's website and upon the first look at Haley dog's picture on that website I knew she would be my girl! The next day, I drove two hours to the shelter and when I met Haley I had tears in my eyes as she immediately jumped up to lick my face. The shelter employee said Haley came in as a stray with a long scar on the left side of her muzzle, and hadn't responded to anyone who came near her before I arrived. Since that adoption day, Haley is a happy, healthy girl who has brought so much joy and love back into my life. Everyone says we are perfect for each other and I agree. Our walks, play time, and cuddles are different from my previous dog, Lucky, but they are just as special as she has filled more space in my heart than I thought I had remaining (and I continue to wonder if Lucky's spirit actually brought us together!).
After my mother had foot surgery she was very down and depressed about being cooped up in the house for two months. I invited her out with me to go pick up dog food. We found a Petsmart that carried it and she rolled off in her wheel chair to look for it while I did a not so subtle drive by of the Kitty Angels. There was a beautiful white tortoise shell cat that started mewing and head butting the window. When my mom came over to see what I was up to the little cat rolled over on her back and cried out again. She was beautiful and very friendly, purring and making my mom smile. But to my dismay we were informed she didn't get along with other cats at all. We had two other cats at home and one of them was an elder, and they had to come first. So the woman put the pretty kitty back and offered to show us another. I half heartedly agreed. She let out a small gray female, skittish in nature, scared of the other cats after being bullied by them for so long. She had stumpy little legs and her ears were too small for her head. We decided to try it. If she couldn't get along with our other cats we'd bring her back. They told me she was shy, she made a mess of her litter box, and she didn't like to be held. Petsmart lied to me. In two months she'll have been here a year. She doesn't meow but squeaks like a broken dog toy. She can't jump all that well but she'll chase my other cats around till they all flop over in a heap. She crawls onto my back while I'm reading and insists on lounging on my husbands legs when he gets home from work. We are all under agreement that she is the best thing to ever have been brought home. She is not the cat I wanted. But she is the cat I fell in love with.
He was 3 lbs when I first saw him and fell in love. He had no hair, only 2 teeth, and was starving - he should have been 8 lbs. The shelter let me take him home right away and we had three years together. I do not know how hard his life was before me, but I do know that someone loved him before he was a stray because he knew how to give kisses, and then wipe your face dry with his cheek. He has shown such strength and gentleness as he went through several illnesses while with me, finally losing the fight with Lymphoma after 2 years of chemo on October 25. He will be missed by everyone who knew him. I will hold his paws in my dreams for the rest of my life, and I will meet him again where he is no longer suffering. Goodbye Lassie. You changed my life. I love you, old man.
It was a very windy Monday, we had strong storms in the area the night before. Having been recently laid off, I was at home.
One of my dogs started barking at the window, a normal exercise with all of the squirrels running around. I told her to be quiet and dismissed it. The other dog joined in the barking about then. I looked up just in time to see a flash of white run by the window - it was surely no squirrel!
I opened the back door and was greeted by a big grinning wiggly fur ball.
I sat down and she immediately curled up on my lap, head tucked under my chin. She was covered in mud and shaking, no tag on her collar. After a quick bath and some food, we went to the vet to see if she was chipped, no such luck. The vet said she was young, about 8 months old, and very healthy.
I thought surely someone is missing this sweet girl, after all, there were fences down all over the area. My husband and I took her on walks and asked everyone we saw if they knew this dog, no one did. We put "found dog" signs up, postings on several on line lost and found sites, and signs at the local vets and pet stores. I called the shelters daily, no one was looking for her.
After two weeks of looking, we finally stopped. We took the signs and posts down, she had FOUND her home.
In two weeks time, Tinkerbell ("Tink") learned how to walk on a leash, sit, down, wait, was house broken and crate trained. Her two fur sisters have welcomed her into the pack nicely, and she's great with the kids. This eager little dog just wanted to find a furever family that she could be a part of!