Last Christmas I was mourning the loss of not only my sweet dog that I had raised from the age of 4 weeks, but also one of my cats earlier in the year—both sudden and unexpected deaths. I had just moved into a new apartment, and being in the mountains, I was afraid that my other cat, who is indoor/outdoor, would get snatched by a predator. I asked my sister and brother-in-law to take her to live at their house, since they have a big, fenced back yard in a quiet neighborhood in my hometown. I was all alone with no pets for the first time in over six years, and feeling tremendous sadness. I went to my hometown for Christmas, a few hours’ drive from my place, and headed over to my sister’s house to see her and my calico. I turned onto the dirt road to their house, adjacent to a large empty field. Out of the corner of my eye, in the field, I saw something small and orange—a kitten! He ran into the weeds where a dead tree laid overturned. I told my sister and we started looking for him. She spotted him under the dead tree, and while he focused on her, I sneaked up behind him and grabbed him. At first he was feral—biting and fighting against me—he couldn’t be more than 6-8 weeks old. I brought him to my parents’ house and spent the next week giving him food, water, and cuddles. It didn’t take long for his feral nature to melt into a loving, affectionate kitten. I named him Percy and he’s my best buddy now. I am raising him to be an indoor-only cat in my mountain apartment. I think that my furry loved ones across the Rainbow Bridge sent him to me, knowing I needed him. P.S. my calico is happy as ever living with my sister, and my niece absolutely adores her.

Sara
Nederland, CO