The minute I saw you at the shelter barking and wagging your tail, I knew you were meant to be in my life. You were a hot mess until the very end and I loved every second of being your mom. Thank you for loving me. Your loss is felt deep. Although I rescued you, you really rescued me.
On May 30, 2004, our neighbor brought two kittens & asked if they were ours. I said no. He said he was just going to kill them. My daughter said they were ours, so we took them. They were 2 days old & we had to bottle feed them every two hours.
They loved to watch Tom & Jerry. They passed away last month a few days after each other. They turned 18 in May and we sure miss them.
When my precious Pomeranian was killed by a dog that broke his leash, I was devastated. My first reaction was that I would never have another dog, but within days, I realized I could not stand not having a dog. A friend found Shadow on Petfinder, he was in a shelter in Cheyenne, and within two days, I was approved and went to get him.
Poor little guy was fearful and totally ignored me at first, pacing up and down the hallway nervously. When it became obvious I was going to take him, his foster mother left, and I got off the floor and sat in the chair she had vacated. That was all it took, suddenly he leapt into my lap!
The people at the shelter told me he had been passed over several times, which is most likely why he wouldn't look at me at first, sure I would pass him by, too. But the fact that I didn't leave and took over the foster mother's chair seemed to click with him, and he realized I was really going to be his mom!
I understand why he was passed up, he is very shy and nervous, and has a slightly cleft lip which bares his teeth and makes him look vicious when he's tense, but I knew he was the dog for me. I wanted a dog who needed me as desperately as I needed him.
He's still nervous around strangers sometimes, especially men, and is afraid of hands, but he's come a long way in the year that I have had him.
I still warn people he might nip and to be slow and careful with their hands, but he has come so far in this year! He used to never smile, but in the past couple of months he has started smiling, even grinning almost all the time!
From the beginning, he seemed to want to put his past life behind him, he wouldn't even answer to his name anymore when I brought him home. He was so glued to me that I started teasing him about being my little shadow, and he must have sensed the love in my saying that, because he chose the name Shadow to answer to!
I will always miss my little Oreo, but I love Shadow completely and can't imagine life without him! I was probably the perfect person for him since I am retired and home almost all the time, and he needed someone to be with him all the time.
Six years ago around midnight, I was in bed and heard boys on the street laughing and then their car stopped and they really laughed. (I live in the country and it is pitch black out) I thought nothing about it until around 3 pm. I was going out to feed horses and saw something run across the patio. How he survived the night is a blessing.
I cornered him and found a very small kitten. These boys had thrown him out into my lower pasture and he had found his way up to my house. His tail tip had been burnt and eventually fell off, he had scratches across nose and when they tossed him, it damaged his right side. His front leg was bent and he was dragging it and his back leg went out when he walked.
Took him to the vet and he was about 4 1/2 weeks old. We tried saving his front leg to no avail, and when he was neutered, we had to take his front leg to shoulder. I had just put down a horse and friends said that God sent this sweet kitten to me.
I looked up gift from God and that is how he got his name: Zaine. I call him Sweet Baby Zaine. He is wonderful.
I wanted a playmate for my 6 month old pug Stella Belle Sun. I was working long hours and was concerned she might be lonely. On a hot Sunday morning, there was an ad for adult pugs for sale. I gathered up Stella and off we went!
We came to a house which was a pug breeding ground! Conditions were horrible! 102 degrees, no shade. There were 11 pugs begging for attention. One followed me saying pick me pick me. She was so homely looking. Her teats were full, as if she had just delivered. I picked her up and asked the man if I could take her around the block with Stella, he agreed.
The minute I got away, I called the police, who arrived at the house almost immediately! He was arrested. Pug Rescue was called and they took all but one, my little girl!
She was in such a bad way I called her Cinderella and she instantly became our princess! She was the most loving dog I have ever had, something very special about her. She and Stella bonded like sisters. She loved to get dressed up! On Sunday’s she would sit in her poppy’s lap and watch football all day! She gave us so much joy. She lived to an old age of 13. I still miss her!
I continue to rescue pugs but there has never been another Cinderella.
I have been a "crazy" cat lady most of my life and my S.O. knew that when we got together 16 years ago. At the time, I had six indoor cats. Over the years, people in our neighborhood knew we were cat people and ended up dropping off cats (mostly pregnant females) at our home. Long story short, we took them in and ended up with grandma, her two daughters and their four (between the two of them) kittens.
Through heartbreaking losses from old age and other problems, we got down to 10 and then down to eight, and then he brought home a rescue from his work. NO MORE, he said. Okay.
Then five weeks ago, I'm sitting at my doctor's office waiting to be seen and he calls me from work and asks if I have any kitten formula. "What?", I said. And then I heard the kitten crying in the background. Yep, he found a 2 week old kitten under a pallet at work and they could not find a mom or any siblings. One of the guys (not my fav) suggested they "put it our of its misery so it didn't starve or die in the FL heat" and he immediately said he'd take it home.
Been bottle feeding for three weeks. Oliver is finally eating wet kitten food and using his litter box and now my NO MORE partner says we need to find him a playmate his age so he doesn't keep tearing us up with his little claws. I'm checking into it. Gotta love the Cat Daddy!
If anyone should know better than to poke their finger through the wire mesh of strange cat’s kennel, it’s me. In seconds the business end of a black paw ripped an impressive gash across my index finger. I wrapped my bloodied finger in a tissue and stood back.
We eyed each other, the cat and I. He’d moved to the back of the cage and was stretched out, ears perked forward.
“Such beautiful boy. Black cats are so special,” I crooned. A little flattery never hurts.
Mr. Black Cat flipped upside down and extended an apologetic paw, eyes glittering with fun and intelligence. Game on. He was ready for round two, and now his body language radiated play mode. I glanced at the tag on his cage and bit my lip. This little Humane Society love had been confined to his small enclosure at Pet’s Mart for over two months. My new furry friend wasn’t vicious; he was just bored. I knew enough to know his time was running out. I’m guessing you know what happened next.
Contract signed, cat food and travel crate purchased, we headed home accompanied by full-throated, yowling, cat rap. He was not cut out to be a world traveler.
I named him Hooter because of his huge, owl-like yellow eyes, settled him into the study with a tempting dinner and a bowl of water. He eyed the food, dove under the recliner, and set up housekeeping. No amount of cajoling convinced him to venture out. Cats, being the willful creatures that they are, can’t be pushed. He’d come out to explore in his own good time.
Two hours later, just as I was dozing off, I felt an inquisitive and very cold nose poking at the crannies of my face.
“Are you awake?” Poke, poke.
“I am now,” I half grumbled, half sighed. “Hi there, little one. How’s my boy?” I removed a probing paw from my ear. At least he had the good manners to keep his claws retracted.
He maneuvered as close as possible and stood on my pillow. Utter, inner-cave darkness descended as the full weight of a mid-size cat body plopped across my face. Fur filled my mouth, and I felt itchiness creeping into my eyes. Suffocation not being an option, I slipped out from under his snuggling body and slid another pillow under my head. Undaunted, my new bed buddy squirmed closer. His long tail flicked across my face in rhythm to the movement of his head and tongue as he stretched and washed each leg.
I gently massaged under his chin until he settled down on the pillow, satiated and content. Soon, a deep purring played out a steady rhythm. My breathing slowed as I shadowed its soothing cadence. My chronic insomnia relaxed its grip.
Twelve years later, he’s still my pillow buddy. He not only adjusted to the introduction of dog friends, he made it clear that, in this house, the cat is the boss. He tracks lizards and birds from behind the safety of a closed screen door, and he sits between my computer monitor and keyboard to make sure I’m not slacking off. Hooter is the cat king of his castle, a benevolent ruler of his catdom.
Last September, my husband was letting our dog out to do his business when he noticed a stray cat trying to eat grass. He asked me to bring a bowl of cat food & water out to him to feed him. This poor cat was so hungry, yet had no fear of him, our dog or even our mail carrier.
After he ate, I went out to see if I could get a picture to post on a few local lost & found pet sites, when he decided to walk into my house and get comfortable. From the first moment, I saw him I knew his name was going to be Patch, simply because of his patterning. When he came into the house, I realized he only had one eye and an old injury to his hip.
While my husband was the first one to take care of him, Patch has decided I am his person, and he never wants to leave my side. Even though at the time we already had six cats, there was no way I could get rid of him, because we knew he had no home to go to.
Unfortunately, we are down to only three cats and Patch is still with us and still thinks that I am his person.
I worked on a military base for many years. About five years ago, a Staff Sergeant I knew who worked at the Base Commander's office called me and asked if I wanted a kitten.
I have a hobby farm and we have indoor and outdoor cats, so I said sure. It was then the Sergeant explained that a mama cat had birthed a litter in the bushes just outside the Commander's office building. The base had a contractor who controlled the animal population on base and had already trapped and killed the mama cat and he was going to return to trap the kittens.
The Commander's office staff was horrified and as soon as they were able, caught all the kittens and began to find them forever homes. So that afternoon, my friend came to my office with a little furball of fluff that was maybe 5 or 6 weeks old and wild!
The kitten hid under my car seat for the ride home. My son and I found a kennel for Belle. (named after the town of Bellevue where the base is located) The hissing, spitting, and howls were loud and strong, but we remained firm the first few days to her staying in the kennel and taking food from our hands.
Slowly, Belle came around. We gave her run of a single room and then finally the whole house. We kept hand-feeding her to build her attachment to us.
Belle has turned into an incredible mouser. She rules my son and comes running through the house when he comes home. We call her our sassy girl with her silky long hair, and every now and then, she will get made at our dogs or other cat and give a big old hiss and spit.
He was at a local shelter, and we were looking for a replacement for our beloved Sadie. Gunner was 63# and we took him not knowing one thing about his breed.
After some time, we realized he had issues with other dogs. He got loose a couple times. Vet bills and all that went with his bizarre behavior. Walking became out of the question. He dragged my husband. His focus if any other animals came by the house. We had one other small dog and a cat. He didn’t bother them.
Fast forward, from Cali Desert Rescue to now Kentucky. Has a yard and has fun trying to catch squirrels. Still hates little dogs... got our neighbors cops dog… no harm. Still has a fit over UPS, FEDEX, trash trucks….mailman. He is 128# and getting grumpy like his dad. They are two as one. Love him til death do us part.
