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One New Year's Eve, my cat NightNight was accidentally let out by a roommate and killed by a neighborhood dog running loose. I was devastated. On January 2, I went to the local shelter. As always, I asked to see cats on death row.

After denying there was such an area, staff led me into a small room. There at the very end was a very vocal gray cat with no tail.

"Oh, he's mean. He's bitten everyone, and we can't let you pet him. We have to put him down."

Having lost 13 loved ones over that past year and going through the accompanying anguish, I could understand anger and pain. In the meantime, the cat was reaching through the cage, desperately crying for me, trying to touch me, begging me with his eyes not to leave him.

"No, I want to hold him. I have days like that, where I hate everyone and would bite them if I could. He won't hurt me."

After assuring them I wouldn't sue them and writing/signing a waiver stating the same, the staff finally gave in and opened the door. We reached for each other and fell silent as we held each other for the first time. Since he was to be put down, they let me adopt him that very day.

We went home. He would sit and watch my other cat, DayDay, and I play and interact day after day, always nearby but never participating. Six months later, he let me touch him. Another three months, and I actually held him again. We were together roughly 19 of his 22 years. He left me last Saturday afternoon.

Each time I lose a pet, my mother asks me why I put myself through such emotional trauma when I know I'm going to lose them eventually. I tell her, as painful as it can be, I wouldn't miss it for the world.

Story submitted by Belinda from Martinsburg, West Virginia.

This story was originally shared on The Animal Rescue Site. Share your very own rescue story here!