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While my husband was cleaning out the shed, during our moving process, he heard a small meow. Due to the remnant carpet in our shed being a light yellow, he moved the lawn mower and didn't see anything, so he put the mover back and went about sorting and cleaning. After a little while, he heard it again and moved the mower again. This time he saw this little kitten laying on the carpet. He picked it up and took it to the porch, put it in a box and called me at work.
His first words to me were "Well babe, I was working in the shed and you'll never believe what I found".
Since he's a bit dramatic most times, I just answered, "Hard telling, What?"
"A kitten" he says and after several questions and discussions, I told him to put it in a box and cover it lightly with a towel to keep it warm. He wasn't a "cat person" so he wasn't able to tell me any "real" details about it.
When I got home I checked it out and realized he was VERY young. I took a quick trip to Walmart and got pet bottles and "Mother's Helper" liquid formula and when I got back I made a bottle for him and BOY was hungry. From a past "kitten" experience I had invested in a baby playpen, so we got him set up in it.
After a bit more investigations, we worked out that he was about a week old. His eyes weren't open and he still had a dark spot where his umbilical cord was.
We took turns feeding him every 2 hours for 4 weeks and increased the time in between as the weeks went on. My mother was SURE he wasn't gonna make it, but we keep at it and that was July 2007. He is now 6 years old and part of the family (he has 10 kitty brothers and sisters total), He's a Mama's boy but I wouldn't give him up for the world!
I was eight years old when my Mother brought home Winnie. My mother worked at the local vet clinic. It wasn't uncommon for people to bring kittens in boxes to have them euthanized. My mother saw Winnie, a month old, maybe less, and took her home. I remember melting when I saw her. I also remember having to keep it a secret from Dad, because he hated cats.
The day we told Dad, he told me to go to my room so that they could talk. I listened from my bedroom as my Mom pleaded with my Dad to keep her, and with me adding the puppy dog eyes, after not being able to stay long enough in my room, he reluctantly gave in.
Over the course of the next few weeks, I fell in love with Winnie. She was quirky and funny, and of course, cuddly. Even my Dad grew to like her, though he still won't admit it, after all these years.
Then the day came where Winnie tried climbing the curtains and spilling soil everywhere after knocking over a flower pot. Dad got so mad that he sent her back to the clinic. I kept her favourite toy, a small teddy bear, as a reminder of her. For weeks, I was very upset with my Dad. I begged for Winnie to come home.
Finally, my Dad came into the room and told me he had a surprise. I went into my room, and there she was. Winnie was pawing my bed, purring.
I have absolutely no idea what I'd do without her. Now I'm in college, and I occasionally even Skype with her and my parents. She's the best pet in the world, and I wouldn't trade her for anything. She doesn't cuddle with many people anymore, but she cuddles with my Dad all the time.
My wife was buggin me all day to go see this dog someone had posted in the paper.
Finally after hours of saying no I just got a feeling. We went to see her and found she had belonged to a family who had to give her up because of moving to a place pets were not allowed. So a relative of theirs took her and said they would give her a couple weeks. When we went to see her that couple weeks was up. The woman said "we only put the $10 in there to make sure someone would "pay" to have her." I still wasn't sure. The lady said "you can take her for a few days and see if she is a good fit". So to keep her from going to the shelter I said OK. GOOD FIT? she fell in love with me and I fell in love with her. My $10 dog ... I'd have paid a thousand times that if I'd have known her as I do today. My Cloe gives so much love it's just unbelievable. Rescue? YES she did rescue me!
My sister and I were living in college living in an apartment when one Saturday night she told me about a friend of hers who had a neighbor with an orphaned two-week old kitten. The neighbor was 15 years old and had no idea of how to take care of this kitten. My sister then said, "He's in Orlando... can we go get him?" I was nervous because we weren't supposed to have pets and I was worried how my parents would react to us taking in this little guy. In the end, my heart over-took my nerves and we drove down to Orlando the next day. The girl came out with a small cardboard box - inside was a fluffy blue towel and tiny, squeaking kitten lost inside of it. We both melted. However, neither of us had ever cared for an orphaned kitten and we weren't even sure where to start.
We stopped at Walmart and picked up Gerber baby milk and an eye dropper to give the kitten something to eat. The poor thing was starving. The next stop was the vet - and for two kids in college that isn't cheap. But with the kind help of our parents, we got him a check up and medication he needed. The final stop was PetCo, where we found nursing bottles and kitten milk. Through this whole day, our full intentions were to take care of the kitten long enough to adopt him out.
But the weeks went on. We named him Niko. We woke up with Niko every night between 2 and 4 am to feed (and often bathe him due to an accident in his big, towel cardboard box). We felt like we never slept. We rarely went out on the weekends. Rather, we stayed at home on the couch with a kitten nestled on our chest, sleeping. And we fell in love. We wouldn't trade that time with Niko for anything. And it wasn't long after that our parents insisted our hard work should be rewarded - we could keep him. He's our little buddy.
It was a beautiful Indian Summer in our small surf town, So California, October almost Halloween. My Mom called me very upset, one of her roommates was a care taker for an angry elderly woman. She tells me Mom that she was at work and that the start of her shift was overwhelming, she wasn't even sure she would finish the day caring for this woman. Her story goes as such. "I walked in to her kicking this poor toy malteze into the wall. If someone doesn't take this puppy today when I leave this evening I'm taking her to the shelter." After hanging up with my Mom I was upset, sick to my stomach, how could anyone treat a living breathing thing like this? Now a little about me in 2007 I broke my neck, in 2010 I broke my back and had surgery in October of 2011 then to top all this off while walking my park for rehab three months later in Feb. Of 2012 I was hit by a truck. I felt I'd never be of help to anyone, well I was wrong! Today I am the proud Mommy of a loving playful gorgeous now 2 yr. Old Frankenstein, we were going to name her Gigi however my youngest son said no way Mom she's a Halloween Present and as such I dub her Frankenstein, but you can call her Frankie! Everyone sayes I saved her, however in reality... She saved me!
Meg (black, on the left) is my half Chow and half Lab baby. When she was roughly only a couple of months old, and very little, she wandered into my backyard. It was cold out, almost Halloween, and she was very skinny and her fur was really thin. I brought her some dog food and water outside (I already had two smaller dogs) and offered them to her. She looked at it and regarded me very closely. I then closed the back gate so she couldn't leave. I made her a makeshift dog house out of cardboard boxes and blankets, under the awning and out of the elements.
I was supposed to be trying to find her owner, but I'll admit, I didn't try very hard. She was very timid and cowered if you tried to pet her. She had obviously been abused. After Halloween I decided to keep her. I took her to the vet and got her a sturdy dog house. In December I rescued Maggie (white, on the right) and housed them together. They became instant best friends. They lived outdoors until Spring when I began to notice Meg was having a difficult time breathing in warm weather. They were moved indoors and house trained.
That was 11 years ago, both are the same age. Meg has so much wisdom behind her eyes, and she has conquered so much! She's survived heart worms, a rupturing uterus and cancer. She's still going strong! She spends her days now taking care of Maggie. Maggie is feeling her age and has a difficult time moving around, and she's going deaf. Meg still behaves like a pup most days and takes very good care of her best friend. She cleans her ears and snuggles to her and waits for her at the door when it's time to go outside. If I open the door to call them in, Meg will go get Maggie since Maggie can no longer hear very well.
These two have graced my life and filled it with so much love, and I am blessed.
After the heart-wrenching loss of my 17-year-old cat, Priss, five years ago, I swore "no more cats." We had dogs -- springer spaniels -- and that was perfect. But when violent storms hit St. Louis, and a friend found a tiny kitten and couldn't find its mother (and couldn't keep it, because her dog was vehemently opposed to it!), she sent out an email, with a photo. She was afraid she'd have to take the kitten to a shelter, and I couldn't let that happen, when I knew the shelters were overflowing with storm-tossed animals. So I took in this 1-pound tiger "just until we can find it a home." On the second night, when my "not a cat person" husband bought a $100 cat "condo" to make sure the kitten would be safe from our rambunctious spaniels when we weren't home, I knew that although the cat didn't have a name yet, he had a home. And when my husband chose "Truman" as his name (after our alma mater's mascot tiger), and the dogs thought he was THEIR pet, it was settled. And although I adore my dogs and wouldn't trade them for the world, I realized how much I missed having a cat in my life!
It was early April this year when I decided to go outside and talk to a friend of mine on the phone. It was around two in the morning; not unusual for me. I'm outside in the cold when suddenly this little kitten appears out of nowhere and starts meowing at me. I looked at it and apparently that was good enough for the kitten. In a flash, it climbed up my jeans and jacket to perch on my shoulder and start nuzzling me. I hung up with my friend, took the little guy down and looked him over. Small, skinny, blue eyes and white fur with some areas of gray. I decided to take him inside as he was so cold and show him to the wife.
When I went in to the bedroom, my wife sat up a little and asked if everything was alright. "We have company," I told her, and then proceeded to set the kitten down on the bed. My wife fell in love with him immediately. She asked what I was planning on doing with him. I told her I didn't know, since we already own a cat and a ferret. I told her I'd talk to some of our friends and see if anyone wanted Dorian. "Dorian," she asked. "Sure," I told her. "The kitten. You know, because of the gray. Dorian Gray."
My wife just smiled at me and I knew right then we were keeping her. You don't just come up with a name for an animal unless you're planning to keep it. We even kept the name once we found out from the vet that he is a she. That's right, Dorienne Gray. Dory for short.
So here we are, a couple of months later, and Dory has really taken to her new family. She loves playing with our other cat, Jasper. She's still unsure about our ferret, Quincy, but they're getting along. Our son and daughter have both loved her since day one. And even I have to admit, she's a perfect fit in our family.
Welcome home, Dory.
2012-employed at drive-thru pharmacy; man came up in large SUV; I could hear meowing;I told man, he drove off, not caring. I looked out of drivethru 2 had fallen out of SUV, 1 kitten had been crushed by SUV, other was walking around screaming at top of his lungs in middle of drivethru. He was so young he could barely walk, his eyes were still blue. There was another car coming right into him & I frantically ran out to save the little guy. He was panting very rapidly & his hair was singed from the motor heat. I gave him water by dropper & wiped him with a cold, wet towel. He got back to normal & I went to vet to retrieve formula. I could not find anyone that would give him a good home. I called my mother & of course we could not take him b/c we already had 15 cats that came to us as strays. I eventually brought him home b/c I had no other option. He was like a little angel, asleep in my lap while I drove him to his new home. My father even bottle fed him! He eventually chewed thru 3 bottle nipples. He has some stunted growth, 1 neurological attack when young, but he is quite normal. He still does not like loud noises tho! He is happy, bringing out the best in me & my parents. We love him and my father thinks the sun rises and sets on "Thomas Levi." We think he thinks he's a person and is not aware he's a cat. He does some of the silliest things. I am glad he came into our life. God had a plan for him before he was even born & I am glad it involved us!
Spending time in the woods was second nature to me. I grew up camping and hiking and would retreat to the leafy green coolness to escape the humid Ohio summers. I'm a naturalist and know the plants and animals by heart. This is why one day while hiking in my favorite little wooded park not far from my home, I was very confused when I heard a tiny squeeky cry coming from the path in front of me. In my head I went through the possibilities. "Mouse? Snake eating a mouse? Small rabbit? Squirrel pup?" I stopped to listen.
A tiny, pinprick of a sound was all I heard. I followed it to a patch of plants. "Hello?" I asked the curious noise.
"Mew?" was the reply. The patch of plants the tiny mew was coming from was in fact, my forest nemesis - stinging nettle. It has tiny barbs that cause an allergic reaction in almost everyone - seven minutes of really, really uncomfortable pain. And this tiny little sound was coming from the very center of a rather large patch of the stuff. I looked about for a stick. Moving back some unfriendly foliage, I discovered two brilliant green eyes staring up at me. Nothing but a black puffball with two green orbs. My heart instantly melted. Who would leave a tiny thing like that out in the woods..to get eaten by the coyotes?
I wasn't going to let that happen - so in I went.
What happened next was both amazingly wonderful and very terrible. I stood there, snuggling a tiny fluffy black poofball while covered in painful stinging from my waist up - and after that seven minutes were over, we had bonded forever.
We did some research, and discovered that the tiny poofball was most likely a Norwegian forest cat. My mother, who I was currently (temporarily) living with at the time, named her Aspen. After a week of halfheartedly trying to find her owner, we had fallen so head-over-heels for her that we we took down the posters. She's been with us ever since!