I had just bought a house and was moving in when this beautiful long-haired multi-colored beauty came out of nowhere, meowing away and very vocal. She stuck to me like glue. I have never been a cat lover as I am extremely allergic to them, but something about this girl tugged at my heart. Every day I would be greeted by her, either at my front door, or getting in and out of my car. Turned out she had been tossed out by the neighbor two doors down from me, and was just looking for someone to love and care for her. She was very popular in the neighborhood and everybody knew her. I ended up taking pity on her and taking her in, as she was very persistent (LOL). I have a 10-year-old yorkie-cross who was not happy with the new addition, but he got over it and now they play like brother and sister, and have each other as companions. Princess lives a good life now and is very spoiled. I wouldn't have it any other way.
In April of 2018, a new kitty showed up at my front feeding station for neighborhood cats: a tabby-striped manx. We named him Snefru for an Egyptian pharaoh. One day in August, we noticed what looked like blood seeping from his side and kept an eye on him. The wound was getting much larger, so we decided to trap him and get him some medical care. It took two weeks and some ingenuity to get him; by that time the wound was about 2” around and he acted so, so feral. We got him to the vet, where they cleaned the wound, treated it, and gave him antibiotics. They also neutered him, gave him shots etc. Today he is the biggest lap cat ever and a sweetheart. He also has autoimmune gingivitis and asthma, but we love him, problems and all. His age was estimated to be around 4. We still have our feeding stations and cameras to keep an eye on all of the kitties.
Anna (on the left in the photo) and Elsa were littermates, rescued from a feral colony when they were about a year old. A wonderful veterinary practice fostered them for roughly six additional months before I adopted them last June. I was told that Anna might never come out of her shell, that she always hid behind her much larger sister Elsa whenever anyone approached them. Socialization has progressed very slowly, but there has been a major turn-around. Tiny Anna lets me pick her up before feedings, and sometimes she even purrs to me. Elsa is more than twice Anna's size, but she has turned out to be the timid one. If I can coax Anna to play (which is usually very easy), then Elsa will either sit off to the side or will reluctantly join in. I was heartbroken when we found one another, since I'd just lost my sweet feline companion of 14+ years, but it has been a delight to introduce youthful energy into the household once more. Elsa reminds me of another black feral cat (Shadow) who entered my life 20 years ago, and I hope that she will eventually become trusting enough to curl around my head for sleep the way Shadow did after we'd been together for a long time.
When my husband and I were talking about getting a companion dog for our aging dog, Katie, we went back and forth not knowing if she could go from being an "only dog" to having a sibling. My cousin called about a 15 week old puppy that had lived his entire life in a cage and was being "fattened up" to be used as a bait dog. There was no question that we were being called to rescue this little guy! The night we got him he jumped into my arms from hers as if saying "There you are! I've been looking for you!" Our girl had no trouble showing her sibling how to move right into our hearts. Jakob became my protector, my comfort, and my joy, much like our girl was for my husband. My husband joked that if we would have been human twins, it would be like we were of one heart and mind. We lost our girl, and Jakob was right there with her as she took her last breath. We lost my husband unexpectedly in September 2017, and after 18 years of marriage my entire world fell apart. I didn't know how I could go on without him. Jakob and his feline siblings have been by my side offering support, comfort, and unconditional love - they are the reason I have gotten up every morning and keep moving. Jakob is 8 years old now. His eyesight is getting cloudy, he's a little more gray around his face....but he's still got the heart of that 15 week old puppy that jumped into my arms. This photo has always touched my heart because I was able to capture it about 14 hours after he adopted us. He had never been able to sit and look outside in his short 15 weeks of life as he only knew a cage, and was in awe of all that he was seeing as he sat and looked out our door. He still loves to sit and watch the neighbors and the world alongside his feline siblings. My life is so very blessed to have been adopted by our Jakob, and because St. Francis of Assisi protected him until he was able to jump into my arms and find his "fur-ever" home.
We had been in NJ for almost a year. I was on Facebook after my daughter went to school, and came across this gorgeous gray pit/weimaraner. She had a sad look on her face, one that broke my heart. I had seen many fur babies before, but there was something special about this one. The worst part was she only had 3 days before the ACC in Manhattan would euthanize her. I went in the house balling my eyes out. My husband asked what was wrong; I told him the story, and he said to fill out the application. I did. They called a few hours later and asked when we wanted to pick her up. I couldn't believe no one else was interested in her. It was the best Memorial Day I have ever had. She only weighed 48 lbs. She had a rough 2 years: multiple homes, a litter of puppies, days on the streets of NY. Needless to say, it took some time for her to adjust and trust that this was her furever home. Fast forward 4 years later: she is the most loving, loyal, beautiful and well-adjusted baby we could have asked for. She had a lump on her neck a few months ago. It turned out to be cancer. We had it removed; thank God the vet got it all. We LOVE our Luna so much.
We lived on a court, and one house was a rental. I watched these 2 little girls playing with their puppy as I came and went. After noticing no movement at the house, I called the rental company and was informed the renters paid until the end of September. I told them they left a puppy behind. I was informed nothing could be done regarding the dog until the end of the month. This was Sept. 16th, 2004. I had a 5-year-old female already, so I put some of her food into a Tupperware bowl and took it to the hungry puppy. All he did was bark at me, pee in excitement, and start eating the food. It broke my heart, but I walked home. When I brought food the next day, this cute pure black furball jumped all over me and proceeded to walk to our house. He wouldn't listen to me as (I knew my hubby was happy with just one dog) I repeatedly called him to his yard. He walked into our house like he owned the place. Within 30 minutes he tried jumping on the kitchen counter. I said "Trouble, no!". He actually looked at me like that was his name, so that was his name. He was afraid of my hubby and son in law, highly malnourished and starving per my veterinarian, but otherwise healthy. With love, patience and time, he ruled the roost and my heart. I called him my black heart. After 14 1/2 years, on December 30, 2018, he crossed the rainbow bridge. We still miss him, but we have a puppy, estimated at 2 1/2 years old, that was dropped off near us in the country. I'm all for shelter rescues and local pound adoptions, but my last few dogs were abandoned. We opened our hearts and home to these fur babies, and I'm thankful they found us.
After reluctantly inheriting a Jack Russell Terrier named Moose from a relative who had passed, we came to absolutely adore his unique personality. We shared our home with him for 5 years, and were devastated when we lost him to cancer. We knew immediately that we couldn’t stand to be without the enormous presence that a 15lb dog can somehow manage to accomplish. Enter Finnegan! Shortly after we lost Moose I found Finnegan on Petfinder. He was a year old, and had been surrendered to a rescue in California. While JRTs are not for everybody, they have been a perfect fit for us. Finnegan manages to have an even bigger personality than our beloved Moose. He never fails to entertain us with his crazy antics , one of which is intently watching TV and recognizing animals who he thinks are just behind that “window,” in the backyard. Finnegan is going to be 10 soon with no signs of slowing down.
This was our L.B. When my daughter and her husband had their first child, my father-in-law impetuously bought them a puppy. He called him Lucky Boy or L.B. for short. He was a crazy, wild little six week old Chow and Golden Lab Mix. My daughter's yard was very large where he could run amok all he wanted. And boy did he want. But he was a sweetie. And if he came up to you, all he wanted to do was teethe and chew on you. He gnawed the bottoms of more than one pair of my Levi's, and was completely incorrigible in that manner. That's when my son-in-law jokingly renamed him Little Bastard, but he was still L.B. for short. He grew into a 95 pound, low-slung golden with a Chow's tongue and a head 3 sizes too big for his body. He was fiercely loyal and protective, but if he knew you, he was friendly and loving. And if you were introduced to him, that's all it took for him to accept you. He was raised with cats and they all got along as well. When my daughter and son-in-law split up, L.B. found his new home with my father-in-law and mother-in-law for a few years until my father-in-law passed and my mother-in-law needed to move into assisted living. At that point, he came to live with me and my family. He was with us for the last six years of his life. He used to terrorize my wife, playfully running around our yard, chasing all manner of imaginary somethings. But as he began to age, he slowed down some. He was a wonderful Lover Boy (still L.B.) and we loved him dearly. As he reached his eleventh year, he was diagnosed with a slowly debilitating form of cancer. Over time, he couldn't take the long walks we had taken every day. The walks became shorter and shorter and eventually, he reached the point where could barely get off the floor. We helped him over the Rainbow Bridge just before his twelfth year. He had lived a number of places, but always with the family that so loved him and that he so loved and protected. We will always love and miss our L.B., whatever the initials stood for.
Poochie's human Mom was very ill, and all she wanted was for him to find a Furever home before she passed. I was a Foster Mom and got drawn in by the caption "Make her dying wish come true." I was told Poochie had completely shut down and would not relate to anyone in the shelter. I asked if I could help and was told "come on by and meet him." I took Poochie home, and left him to relax in my master bath. I wanted him to be comfortable before I made an attempt to bring him out of his crate. The next day, I decided to take the cover off so I wouldn't have to pull him out. When I reached in to pick him up, he held on and wouldn't let go! He became very attached to me and let me know in every way, he wanted to stay. I had promised my husband, no more "failed fosters." I continued to love Pooch and bring him to adoption events. After the first one, he reverted back to his "shelter mode." I was encouraged by the other foster moms to continue to bring him, he would come around. That first night, when we got home after the event, he ran into the bedroom and hid under the bed, something he never did before. In the middle of the night he came into bed with me and showed me how desperate he was to stay. I wanted to keep my promise to my husband, so I continued to bring Poochie to the adoption events. He continued to hide and not have anything to do with anybody! They asked me if I wanted to leave him at Petsmart, where it was a quiet environment where the volunteers took a lot of time to get to know the adoptees. He'll come around, they said. I felt terrible leaving him but thought it best to give him a chance. After a week went by, I went to visit. He was no where to be seen! I asked "Where's Poochie"? They said 'he's hiding under the bed, we didn't have any luck bringing him around." I decided he belonged with me! I was going to take him home for good! With my husband's blessing, I did. We made it official and Poochie, now known as Henry James, came home with me for good! I could see him peeking out to see if it was for real, he has been the best behaved and loving cat that I've ever known! Sometimes you just have to accept what's meant to be, and Henry James was meant to be with us - and we're living "Happily ever after!"
We adopted Sammy from a local rescue group. The posting indicated he would be best placed in a home with other dogs. No problem, we had 2 already and he would be our third. Turns out, he came from a home he shared with 27 other dogs. It took time for him to trust, but now he follows me everywhere. He is loyal and accepts other dogs and cats who come through our doors. At 13 years old, he finds stairs difficult, but prefers to take them himself without any help from me. He walks through our neighborhood with a spring in his step.