Thursday, May 28, 2009

Every Rescue Has a Story

Bella had a tough start in life and was in foster care for 2 years before she got a permanent home with us. I knew nothing about the Coon Hound breed and was warned that this type of dog could be very high energy. Fortunately for me, Bella’s favorite pastime is napping.



Gray, (I wasn’t responsible for the name), was a neighborhood stray that hung out on a neighbor’s porch for years. When the neighbor renovated her house and there was no longer going to be a porch for Gray to hang out on, we migrated him to my porch. One morning, I found a pile of his hair in the driveway and feared the worst. When he finally sauntered up to the porch, it was the last time he ever went outside again.

Mackie was also a neighborhood stray and was frequently heard at night fighting with Gray. Mackie wasn’t as social as Gray, and the only way I caught him was when he injured his front paw and was not as quick as he usually was. After a trip to the vet to be neutered, he escaped from my screen porch and was back roaming the neighborhood. He quickly realized that the grass was not always greener and soon was back on my porch waiting to be let in. He also never went outside again.

After an S.O.S. call from my neighbor, I agreed to help trap a cat that had been living in the garage of an empty house. I never had any intention of adding another cat to my growing household and tried to find Chester a home. His prospects were slim. There was the lady who wanted to immediately declaw him because she just spent a small fortune on her new bedroom linens. And then there was the woman who had to consult a psychic to check on Chester’s energy. I gave up trying to place him and figured – what’s one more?

Abby was one of those situations where you are between a rock and hard spot and you wonder if you did the right thing. She was a rail thin cat that I didn’t realize had a litter and was about to have another one. We were never able to find her kittens. If we didn’t want to bring more homeless kittens into the world, she had to spayed immediately. I always wondered (and worried about) what happened to her kittens. Many years later, I saw a glossy black cat with Tortoiseshell markings like hers, in front of the house where she had been rescued. I’m hoping this cat had been one of her missing kittens.

Buster’s number was just about up when he was pulled from a small town shelter by a Chihuahua rescue group in the Northwest. We were at the airport waiting for the flight to the West Coast when he started coughing. Realizing something was wrong, we went to the vet instead. Buster had stage 3 heartworm and was given a 50-50 chance of surviving the treatment. He went from not being able to walk more than a few steps, to zooming around the yard like a Mexican firecracker. He was due for a run of good luck.

Nell was my very first cat. I went to the Humane Society and was fortunately helped by someone who knew a lot more about cats than I did, or I’m sure I would have ended up with the meanest cat in the shelter. She was wrapped around someone’s neck and I thought for sure she was adopted. Lucky for me, she wasn’t. She had been found wandering with another cat and some nice person had brought both cats in to the shelter. I wrote a note to that kind soul to let them know she now had a fabulous home – which she’s had for the past 16 years.

Ruby, who was first named Sylvester, is our latest addition. I was not in the market for another cat, but as you can tell, I’m a sucker for a hard luck story. Ruby was like a tiny sprite, dashing across the parking lot near a very busy street. She was very wild at first and I had to trap her just to get her to the vet. They didn’t think she could ever be domesticated. It took a couple of months, but it was a great day when she jumped on my bed and let me pet her for the first time and started purring. She’s been a breath of fresh air for my lazy older cats. She loves to chase them, and they get a lot more exercise since she’s arrived.