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"I hope those kittens haven't escaped," I said to my mother as we drove home.
"They don't have it in them," Mom said. "They are the do-nothing kittens."
It was true. Tiny Jordan---aka "Baby"--and his even tinier sister, Jamie---aka, "Fetus"--were not bursting with energy. While most kittens ran around chasing each other and wrestling, these two basically sat in one spot and did absolutely nothing.
The day before, my neighbor had first given me Jamie, who she'd found in a stray colony down the street. Her mother had not done a good job taking care of her, although she managed to keep her alive. I didn't think Jamie would make it. Before I took her home, I went directly to the vet, expecting that she'd have to be put down. She was a mess--bony, crusty-eyed, lacking in vigor. At least I could end her suffering humanely, if nothing else.
An hour later, after she was diagnosed with a feline head cold, my neighbor presented me with her brother, who was a little bigger but looked even worse. His nose was crusted over as well. "You can give him the same medicine," she pleaded. I couldn't refuse. I surrounded them with a six-inch hamster fence, and they showed no desire to escape or do much of anything. The "Do-Nothing Kittens" had earned their nickname.
The next day we had to go to a party, and had to leave them home alone. We surrounded them with the miniature fence again, confident that they were too sickly to make a run for it.
But when we got home, they were gone!
They hadn't gone far--only under the bed--but it was the first sign that they had some fight in them. I knew then the Do-Nothing kittens would be OK. By the next month, they were fighting, wrestling, and disconnecting cable television wires, like every other cat.
Today, "Baby" is bigger than a dog, and "Fetus" has grown into her ears.
We live in the northeast of Brazil, and the raining season this year brought terrible inondations. By the end of may the water stood a foot high and more in all of the streets. So one morning I tried to reach the supermarket with the car and I saw this little kitten paddling in the stream that our avenida had become. She was swimming for her life, her blue eyes full of fear. I stopped and fished her out of the water as fast as I could. She was so terrified that she bit my hand hard, drawing blood from the palm.
I took her home, dried and fed her, and we instantly decided to keep her. We named her Rain and it took only a week for her to adjust to the family. We have two chocolate labs and a two year old tomcat named Witte. Now Rain is about four months old, a happy kitten and just a delight. We love this little bundle of joyful energy. The cats bonded well and the older one teaches her to hunt and play. The dog's wagging tails have become an irresistible toy. She sleeps on our laps and purres loudly every time we touch her. Although she gets all the food the wants, when we eat she absolutely must put her little face into our plates and see what's there. If I'm having only a salad, well, then she eats a slice of tomato or melon. Yes, I know, we have to start some education!
I have always loved orange cats, especially fluffy ones. I had lost my two old fluffy orange boys in the span of one year. I still had an old tuxedo girl, but I knew I had to find me another orange kitty. I searched the rescue listings for several weeks, and finally saw Buffy, a beautiful fluffy orange girl, on the Oasis for Animals Petfinder listings. She had been trapped as a young feral on a farm, and most of the other cats were TNR, but this young girl was a matted mess and the rescuer didn’t have the heart to put her back out there. Buffy lived at the rescuers’ home for about a year, and had gotten to where they could pet her a little bit, especially at feeding time.
I arranged to meet her, but was concerned that she seemed so timid. But she was so beautiful, and I thought I could be patient and let her settle in at her own pace. Little did I know just how freaked out she would be to move to a new home. Buffy lived under an overstuffed chair in my living room for almost a month, only coming out at night to use a litter box next to the chair and eat. I spent many hours laying on my belly with my arm under the chair trying to let her smell me and let her get used to me touching her. I gave her wet food under the chair to try to gain her trust. Eventually she appeared under the end table at the end of the sofa where she could observe the goings on, but escape back under her chair when needed. Gradually, I saw more and more of her and now 9 months later, she is the sweetest lap kitty!
One day 14 years ago I was on a busy road when I saw two youngish dogs in the median that looked like Border Collie mixes. I ran down to the store & got some food to try to lure them into the car & two nice ladies stopped to help me. We got one dog in my car & tried & tried to get the other, but it disappeared into the field across the road.
Our yard wasn't fenced at the time & we already had several kitties & since I passed by the animal shelter on the way home, I said I would take the dog there. He sat with his head pressed up against the back of the passenger seat & wouldn't even look at me. I took him inside & handed him over to the girl at the desk. I said, "He will be OK, won't he?" & she said, "I can't promise anything," so I started bawling & said, "Give him back!!!" She hesitated & told me he would have to be fixed, shots, etc., which I obviously knew (& did), & she THANKFULLY handed him back to me.
My sweet Bo came home with me that day & turned into my "Little General," rounding up his kitty friends & washing their heads, becoming best friends with Waylon, Snickers, Twinkie, Angel, Bear, Rosey, & Sherlock (our other dogs that have joined us since Bo came) & generally just keeping everyone in line. He aced obedience classes & for 14 years he worked at his "jobs," patrolled the yard (after we got a privacy fence), & made me smile daily with his cute pink nose & funny little "hop" that he greeted me with. He was always on the move until he was diagnosed with pancreatitis & cancer & felt too bad to walk, & I sadly helped him over the Rainbow Bridge. I will always be grateful that I was on that road that day. Bo was my good & faithful little friend & I miss him so, so much. I love you little BoBo!
I moved into my first apartment and immediately needed a cat, as I'd never been without a pet. Went to animal control wanting to adopt an older cat, but none of them were available. The only feline in the place that was adoptable was a gray and white kitten, who stretched her paw through the cage and snagged my shirt. That's all it took for her to become mine.
Over the next 18 years, Tucker sometimes proved to be a difficult cat, but we loved her in spite of (or because of) her cantankerous attitude. She saw other cats come into our lives and loved all but one of them, and never forgave us for adopting a dog. After 10 years she still hissed at Izzie each time she walked by. Tucker had recurring urinary tract infections, which progressed to renal failure as she aged. The last 2 years of her life, we gave her twice weekly IV injections, regular B-12 shots, and daily heart medication. Her failing kidneys caused her to urinate outside the litter box, so we were doing clean-ups 3-4 times a day.
By age 18, Tucker was losing weight and growing increasingly lethargic. Thought some of this was attributed to her age (she was essentially an 85-year-old woman!), when she couldn't get herself to the litter box or food bowl, we knew it was time to let her go. This past June, Tucker took her last breath as my husband and I told her what a good girl she was and how much we loved her. We will mix her cremains into a stepping stone, which we'll place in our garden, next to her long-time buddy Frankie.
Armalite was a feral little girl. She stumbled into our store barely able to walk. I lifted her onto a display and fed her chicken out of my salad when she bit me. I had to take her to the vet to make sure she didn't have anything wrong with her. So I did. She weight 1 lb 9 oz. She was so tiny. She was 9 months old. You could see every bone in her body. She was covered in flea's. So I took her to the vet and she was fine. She was healthy. She got her shots and came home with us. She has been a member of our family every since. She's 3 years old now and rules the house. She sleeps where ever she pleases including on pillows. Everyone is expected to sleep around her. She is the queen of her domain and she will not let you forget it. She is quick to defend and quick to give you love but she doesn't like other people to come into her territory. She trusts few but when she trusts you, she trusts you. She is still tiny weighing in at 7 lbs but don't let that fool you she takes down a 14 lbs Pomeranian in a heart beat. Armalite is not afraid to take down a bug. She is not afraid to take down anything including toys or hands. She is playful and yet she is serious as well. She is a joyful cat to have around. She acts like a cat but still acts like a kitten too. She is a tortishell and is a fantastic representative of her breed. She will let you know when there is something going on and will let you know when something is going to happen. We love her and will always have room for her in our home.
After the death of my beloved cat, Tait, I wanted to get another cat. There was a picture of a pretty calico kitten on the local humane society's website. My husband went with me to the shelter and we looked at several cats and kittens but none of them were a good fit. When we were about to give up I decided to go into the room where the kitten I saw on the website lived. My husband waited outside looking in the glass window. As soon as I walked in the little calico marched up to me and just looked at me as if to say are you ready to be my human now. She even went so far as to hiss at another cat who dared get close to her new mommie. I snatched her up since there were other people coming in the room who might possibly want her. Five years later she is still a mommie's baby and I love her dearly. She is the smartest, sweetest and most beautiful cat I could ever have.
I was always a dog person. Moved into an apartment. 3rd floor. Friend was told about a deserted cat. Called me and said you are taking this cat. I was like ok. Went to pick him up. Girl opened the carrier she had him in, sweet face came out and the the other 28 pounds behind. More like a small dog!! Very sick, lung damage, very overweight, shy. Vet told me not to get attached. 12 years later his heart gave out in my husbands arms. Best boy ever!! Have lost a few more since then but would not give up one moment with them. Save as many as you can, because they really save us!!!
We got Sophie just two weeks after we lost our first Chihuahua Dottie. I thought I was ready for a new baby, but I discovered I had not finished grieving. One week after getting Sophie I cried thinking I had made the biggest mistake. There was nothing wrong with her it was all me. A good friend of mine told me that one day soon she would do something that would just melt my heart. And she was right. Sophie is a character for sure. With her crooked nose and the funny little sounds she makes when she wants your attention to the hypnotizing Chihuahua stare with those watery eyes the bowed legs and the tongue that hangs out of her toothless mouth. She melts my hear every single day and I thank God she became my little girl.
After having to put down my beloved cat after 16 years, I was devastated. My daughter insisted I go through photos of animals in need of rescue at my local shelter, but at first I declined as I knew my beautiful tabby Daisy could not be replaced.
About a month or so later, I did browse through the site my daughter had recommended and stopped when I saw small dog sitting on a chair with a look on her face that said, "Please come get me." I thought the animal was white but it was hard to tell because she was so filthy. Her hair was wild but her eyes very gentle. And it was love at first sight.
Ryan, boy's name, long story has been with me for four years. She hasn't replaced Daisy as she will always occupy a special place in my heart. However, she has brought me more happiness than I can adequately express in the remainder of the words I am allowed here. This 12 lb.former shelter dog owns my heart.
When anyone asks if she is a rescue, I tell them she is but not the way they think. My now beautifully groomed maltese/papillon mix rescued me.
I heartily recommend that anyone reading this adopts a shelter pet. I promise your life will be changed for the better.