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She arrived at the shelter in a cardboard box sealed with duct tape. Upon opening it, the man told shelter workers that she was vicious and should probably just be euthanized. She weighed only 5 pounds, even with all the mats that covered her body, including her eyes. After cutting holes in the mats for her to see, she was nicknamed "Peach" because she was so sweet. She was, however, afraid of everything and wouldn't even venture outside her run at the shelter. It seems she had been a puppy mill mom, and so probably never got out of a crate. It was a challenge to house train her, and work with her on her fears. Fast forward a year...she's the light of our lives, weighs a healthy 10 pounds, and is no longer afraid of much except loud noises. She's a bit spoiled, but deserves to be!
As I fed my 2 cats in the kitchen, I heard a very young, “Me----Me…” at the back door. I stepped out and saw a small black and white flash of fur, running across the lawn and under the fence. I left a small bowl of dry food and water on the step. It was gone when I got home that night.
I found out from my neighbor that the people down the street had moved and left a mama cat and 6 kittens behind. She had caught all but the one I had seen. I kept leaving food and water out and would talk to her each time I saw her. It took me 3 months before I could finally pet her and another 2 months before I could pick her up. A trip to the vet said she was healthy and all shots got updated. When asked for a name, Meme was the only logical one!
She lived with me for 13 wonderful years, always with lots of love, pats and food. She went over the rainbow bridge a few weeks ago to see her brother and sister. I miss her being next to me on the bed, her academy award winning eyes when she wanted treats and her touching my nose when she wanted breakfast. Little Meme, you will be in my heart, always.
I work nights at a hotel in Florida and unfortunately people sometimes abandon their cats on the property. Many of the employees feed our little feral colony, taking turns buying kibble and storing it in a big bin in the office. One day a young tuxedo cat showed up, hungry and scared. He was very affectionate but didn't get along with the other cats. We fed him seperately from them (by the pool) and tried to find him a home as he was obviously an indoor cat. One morning he followed me to my car and jumped right in, he hopped into the back window and let out a loud Meow as if to say, "What are you waiting for? Let's go home!"; And so we did. I named him Batman and he is still incredibly affectionate and loving 3 years later. He brings me joy and mischief and seems to know he may have had a hard future ahead if not for coming home that day with me. I like to say that I didn't rescue him, he rescued himself!
My precious baby Blue. Blue came to me on October 4, 2009, as a 4 ½ month old Beagle/Rottweiler mix from the rescue facility, Four Legged Love, out of Toronto. He was so full of energy and playfulness and became the baby brother to my Otis, who was an abused and abandoned Basset Hound. Blue taught Otis how to be a dog again and it was always a house of laughter when they would play. I had 6 colourful years with my baby boy. On August 25, 2015, I was devastated to learn that Blue had stage 4 lymphoma and was given 2 – 6 months. With his treatment and cannabis oil, Blue outlived the cancer by a couple of months however the lymphoma infection became uncontrollable. My darling boy suffered a heart attack on March 5, 2016, and died at home. It was the only bad day he had while dealing with his illness. He handled his disease with grace and a not-giving-up attitude and was his fun, playful self. Even his pawprints were still in the snow from when he played outside the day before. He comes to me in my dreams, always giving me his tasty kisses. Life will never be the same without my darling Blue
It was an icy cold night in February 2006 when I met a friendly little black kitten roaming a pub car park in an area dominated by urban foxes. The bar tender told me the little cat has been living in the builder's skip at the rear or the pub since January and appeared to be abandoned after Christmas. He was amazed that it had survived this long because the area was dominated by foxes and the skip was going in two days time!
As we left to come home, the friendly little kitten approached me again and cheekily jumped into our car as we were leaving. I looked at the frost on the ground and gave in. We took him home for one night but he had ticks and fleas so had to stay in the garage before I took him to the vet for a checkover the next day.
He was sick, undernourished and needed help. The vet cared for him for over a week while we tried, but failed, to find his owner. So he came home to us.
Skippy is now 11 years old and adored by his adopted tabby sisters, Lilly and Lulu.
Rescued from a foster home as a small kitten whose mother abandoned the litter or met with an untimely fate, Gizzy was shy and took some time to come out of her shell. Now she dresses up for every holiday and is constantly at our side. She is more like a dog than cat expressing vocally exactly what she wants. Orange cats that are female are rare and this one fits that bill to a tee. She jumps at the chance to make new friends, both animal and human. Gizzy and her 2 adopted sisters live happily together with lots of warmth and love and sometimes an occasional squabble typical of sisters. Our lives have been filled with fun and laughter because of this adoption.
Black cats were 50% off at the local shelter during the month of October. Audrey was in there, in dire need of rescue. She was emaciated and pregnant, and they wouldn't let me take her unless they aborted her litter, which I refused to allow. Putting a hold on her, I went and got a friend to come in and claim her as her lost cat. In the time it took for her to get there and free her, 5 kittens were born!
Sadly, Audrey developed kennel cough and all but one of the kits died before they were 2 weeks old. The survivor was Thom Cat, the strongest, most vocal of the bunch. I supplemented his feedings and he thrived and grew to be the happiest, gentlest cat I've ever owned. He is my son, and he knows it!
Sox wandered into my mother's yard about 15 years ago. Obviously a young little cat, very pretty and quite a little hunter. Couldn't convince my mother to keep her - so, she moved across the field to our house. We already had a couple of dogs and my husband was putting up some resistance about keeping her. So - I whispered in her ear to follow him around - she did that - and, the rest is history. She was the sweetest little cat - every morning she would want me to pick her up and hold her like a baby. Today she went over the Rainbow Bridge after a considerable fight to keep her here. We will really miss you Soxy - but, will see you again on the other side.
I got Willow when she was 6 weeks old from the Bangor Humane Society in 2000 after moving from Wichita, KS to Winterport, Maine.My husband stayed behind in Wichita to tie up loose ends and sell our home there.I had purchased a Sea Captain's home, built in 1795 and intended to restore it.It was a huge, rambling house and I missed my husband and our two dogs, Maggie and Echo.So, I went to the Bangor Humane Society to see what kind of cats they had.All that was available were three kittens.The first one they brought out was called a tri-colored tabby.She was beautiful with muted colors and a winsome personality.She attached herself to me immediately -- went from the caretaker's arms to mine and there she stayed.I didn't ask to see the other two.Because of her beautiful coloring, I decided to name her Willow, Opus 4.Willow because she reminded me of pussy willow blossums, Opus because I am a musician (Opus is Latin for work), and 4 because she was my 4th cat.
Willow loved the 3 story home with all the rooms and crooks and crevices. Finally, my husband moved in with our two dogs.Willow and the dogs were all best buds before long and she loved my husband. Through the years and a couple of moves she was right there, through the good times and the bad. In April 2004 we lost our Bichon to congestive heart failure.Those were dark days for us but we had her for 16 years. Two years later, I had a huge tumor that was life-threatening and had to have it removed.Willow saw me through that.
Today, we have 5 more cats and Willow is the queen of the house.At 17 years old, she moves with grace, but a bit slower due to aches and pains of arthritis but she still loves to play with her catnip fish, and chasing the red dot.She's never late for dinner or treats and she sleeps on me at night.I am so fortunate to have found her those many years ago when she was just a kitten.
In my neighborhood, there were several stray cats roaming around. I got tired of seeing skinny cats in my yard, so I started feeding them. I made Styrofoam homes for them – the homes consist of two containers – one that is an entrance and one that is an area with straw to stay warm and dry when it gets cold and snowy/rainy.
December of 2015 was particularly warm for Maryland – Christmas was 70 degrees that year. On 12/21/15, I heard little me-uws under my shed. A mommy had four babies. I was only able to get three out of the four kittens.
The woman who lent me the trap to get mommy fixed (I drove an hour to get it), took the three kittens from me a month later. The fourth kitten alluded me constantly.
As spring 2016 approached, and the kitten, who I named Sparkles (a tortie), let me pet her when she ate. One day I grabbed her and got her fixed.
That summer of 2016, I brought Sparkles and her mommy, Ginger, inside even though my old girl, Petals, was not (and still is not) happy about it. Ginger and Sparkles were bringing me “gifts” all the time, and they were not always dead – only ½ dead. Then I would have to assist them to their ending – ummm, that is not my favorite thing to do, AT ALL, so inside the girls had to come.
My girls are adjusting inside pretty well. They are getting used to lovies and attention. They love having “treats,” especially Ginger.
I wasn’t looking to have extra fur-babies at this time, but as the saying goes, “they chose me.” I know Sparkles did because she (initially) would not let me catch her when I was able to catch her two sisters and one brother.
I love knowing five cats got rescued, two with me and three with others. I appreciate the two different groups and the two individuals in those groups who helped me rescue, fix, and save the babes.
Ginger and Sparkles are my little chicklets!