It’s been a rough couple of weeks, hasn’t it? I feel like every time I turn on anything – the television, Twitter, Facebook, my phone, the toaster – there’s bad news that’s going to break me a little inside. If you’re feeling a little raw or sad like I have been, I hope this post gives you a little boost.
PREPARE FOR EPIC FUZZY CUTENESS. MAXIMUM CUTE FUZZ HAS BEEN ACTIVATED.
Avon wants to celebrate Jill Shalvis’ first contemporary romance with them, Sweet Little Lies, book one in her new Heartbreaker Bay series, and they’d like to give one of you a $100 gift card to the bookstore of your choice, AND donate $100 in your name to the San Francisco SPCA. Nice, right?
Here’s a little information from Jill as to why:
In my family, we have a long history of being suckers for animals in need. When I was little, I brought home anything that seemed even slightly abandoned. A bird with a bad wing and a matching bad ‘tude that I fed with an eye dropper. A guinea pig that showed up at our back door demanding food, loudly (have you ever heard one of those things squeal?). A snapping turtle rescued from a pond (I still have a scar from that one…). A very pissy old cat that didn’t necessarily want to be domesticated but did enjoy the softness of my bed. If it needed rescuing, I was all too happy to do so. My parents, not so much. But they never said a word to discourage me.
I’d been dating Alpha Man approximately one week when I found the duck in the middle of the road in Los Angeles. He drove an ambulance at the time, and I called him and said I needed help. When he arrived, I’m pretty sure he was surprised to find himself helping me nurse an injured duck but he was game. In fact, it was only a few months later that he himself rescued an abandoned dog who’d been hit by a car. We took him to the vet together. Poor little guy needed surgery and a good home. We named that dog Max, for Maximum Amount Of Money Ever Spent On A Dog, and he lived fifteen wonderful years and was the love of my life for every single one of those years.
We went on to rescue many more animals over the years. During this time we also raised three daughters. Our oldest, a chip off the old block, volunteered at our local humane society one summer a few years back. No one will be surprised to know that I got a call that started with “mom, there’s this two day old abandoned kitten…”
Who can say no to a two day old abandoned kitten? Certainly not me. We’ve had Satan— er, Sadie, ever since.
These days my oldest daughter fosters kittens and puppies for the San Francisco SPCA. She takes in abandoned animals and takes care of them until they are old enough and weigh enough to be neutered and can be adopted. She uses her own money for kitty litter, bedding, toys, etc. She puts her heart and soul into providing these scared, homeless kittens with some desperately needed love, and every time they get adopted, she cries over the loss. And then starts the process all over again.
And honestly? I couldn’t be more proud. I’m also, as I type this, holding a teeny, tiny baby bunny that we found in our yard today, apparently abandoned. The cycle never ends….
Get ready. It’s CUTENESS TIME. Here are just some of the 65+ puppies and kittens Jill’s daughter has fostered.
You might want to sit down. Ready?
PUPPY TOES AND POLKA DOTS!
SO TEENY!
SMALLEST EARS EVER!
HAI!
KITTEN WITH SHOES. Must go lie down. Excuse me.
TOO MANY TOES. OVERLOAD OF TOES.
Well, I feel better. I hope you do, too! And if not, here are a few more rescue pets, though these are full grown.
Right before we moved, our last remaining cat, Spawn, died suddenly, so for the first few months in our new home, we had no cats. It was weird. Then we adopted two rescue gentlemen who have lived mostly under The Futon of Concealment. They’re finally coming out during daylight hours!
This is Orville.
This is Wilbur, Orville’s brother, who throws a huge house party every night and sleeps all day. Tell me I’m not alone and that your cats are like this. He’s weird, I tell you.
That’s Zeb, who desperately wants to be BFFs with Wilbur, who is not interested unless he gets to chase Zeb. Their relationship is weird.
And this is Zeb (front) and Buzz, who are likely brothers, and are also rescues. Buzz is scared of everything (including the camera, hence the floppy front ears) except Zeb, who is his best friend in the world.
What about you? Who are your favorite furry friends? Do you have a fuzzy creature picture that lifts you up? Just leave a comment and tell us about your rescue pet, or the animal you love most in the universe. I know a lot of you have rescues, too. If you’d like to share a picture, please do, but please make sure it’s less than 600 px wide. By commenting, you’ll be entered to win a $100 gift card to the bookstore of your choice, and have a donation to the SF SPCA made as well. Thank you to Avon and to Jill Shalvis for the prizes and the pictures!
Standard disclaimers apply: Void where prohibited. Open to US residents of 18 years of age and over. We are not being compensated for this giveaway except with a massive dose of adorable cuteness. Animals in mirror may be closer than they appear. Belly rubs always appreciated. Thunderstorms can go away now. Comments will close on Friday 23 24June around 12pm ET, and one winner will be selected at random.
Cuteness: GO!
ETA: We have a winner! Congratulations to tikaanidog! You’ll be receiving a $100 gift card to the bookstore of your choice, and a donation in your name will be made to the SF SPCA. Yay!
But most of all, thank you to everyone who entered, and made this thread such a fuzzy, warm, lovely place to share stories about our furry friends and family members. This comment thread has been a solace and wonderful reading experience. You and all your furry friends, past and present, are awesome.
For a while I had a wonderful black and white cat who my mother found walking down the street. He was just a kitten and smelled of perfume so we put up signs, but no one called and he eventually joined the household.
I now have two cats that I adopted from the local shelter as kittens. They were sharing a kennel. They are three years old now but they’re still weird and wonderful and act like kittens.
The first dog we rescued — flat-out stole, really — was chained in a backyard next to a restaurant along a rural thoroughfare. Melted snow held in depression made by his chain was higher than his feet. We bought him a hamburger (or 3) and called the local ASPCA several times during the following week. By Friday, when they still hadn’t gone to check on the dog, we decided to leave early the next morning and get him. With gloved hands and a big knife to cut through the leather collar (which deteriorated from the pressure of the knife) DH picked him up, tossed him in the back of the car, and I sped off, heart pounding, sure that I would be arrested before we made it across the state line.
Nap was a delightful, faithful and beloved dog. We had 12 years together and I never stopped regretting that extra week he suffered alone in the cold. I’ve been fortunate to know a lot of dogs really well (today we share our home with 15 former street dogs) and not one as sweet and gentle as he.
I know I shouldn’t have a favorite, but I do. Her name is Sadie and I found her under the deck around Thanksgiving a few years ago when I was trying to call our other cats in for the night. She spent a month or two in our (heated) barn before moving into the house, and she is just the sweetest, funniest cat and I love her to bits.
i am typing this with my sweet little 10.5 pound rescue dog on my feet. He’s some kind of Shih Tzu and Terrier cross. When we got him 3.5 years ago, he was terrified of everything but he’s now learned that we are his devoted servants and will allow us to carry him, groom him, and serve as his personal snuggle pillows.
I have 2 “puppies” (full grown, but have no idea they are dogs!!) that are about 10 yrs old. They were both given to us, but my big mixed breed was originally a rescue from the dump. They are both, very smart and sweet dogs. Love them dearly.
Chibi is my “newest” rescue. She is a 8 year old Shiba Inu that has been abused. Someone poured battery acid over her back. She is wonderful!
When I was home from college for the summer, and lifeguarding at a city pool, the kids brought a puppy over to see me, complete with a story about it being the last of the litter, about to be drowned, etc. I took it home, on the assumption my mom wouldn’t mind another dog in the house (we always had at least one, and sometimes 2 or 3). Well, this time she put her foot down, so I ended up taking Dori back to school with me, to live in a shared house with a “no pets” rule from the landlord, who apparently never found out. Dori weighed about thirty pounds and mostly resembled a black lab puppy, with maybe a little terrier mixed in. When I was in grad school I brought her to the office with me, where she achieved fame by barking at a crabby fellow in an office down the hall, which led to him calling the campus police, who laughed when they saw how little and unthreatening she was. She lived to be nearly 17 years old, and passed away two days before my older daughter was born. Picture me nine months pregnant and hip deep in a hole digging a grave for her. Thank you for this chance to tell her story – the daughter mentioned about is now 23 years old, so it’s been a while.
My favorite rescue was our dog named Tag. He was the most loyal friend in the world and when I, at the age of 4, ran away from home on my tricycle to the beach he was right there beside me, growling at strangers who approached. I used to dress him up in my pointy princess hat and we would play dress up together. And I will never forget that time he ate a whole meatloaf off the kitchen counter and didn’t throw up. What a champ.
Tag was a mutt and not the prettiest puppy dog, but he meant a lot to me and my family and he is the reason that we always adopt.
A few years ago, we adopted a beautiful gray domestic shorthair kitten with a fluffy white belly from a shelter. She has a little curlicue in her tail, kind of like a pig’s tail, and the shelter thought it might affect her balance. But it hasn’t slowed her down at all. We named her Sophie after the character in Howl’s Moving Castle. 🙂 And she is just the most entertaining and lovely cat, even if she has a bit of a Napoleon complex. We have another cat who is a couple of years older than she is and at first they used to play-fight with each other. But then when she got a little older, she decided that she’s the boss of the house. So mostly she swats at him and chases him when she feels like he’s not being respectful enough (e.g. if he tries to eat breakfast before her). She doesn’t hurt him and it is pretty funny to see this big boy cat intimidated by this small girl cat (having most likely been a runt, she is much smaller than him still).
We also had a dog who passed away a couple of years ago but Sophie decided she was the boss of her too. (Amber the dog took it all in stride; she was pretty old and mellow.) One of my favorite pictures is of tiny Sophie sitting in Amber’s giant dog bed. Her now trademark passive-aggression. LOL. Unfortunately I don’t have a picture of Amber trying to squeeze into the tiny cat bed…as if she thought “well, okay I guess this is the one I use now.”
Hmm…maybe I did the HTML wrong? Here’s Sophie.
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v102/lothlorienbaby/sophie.jpg
My older kitty-girl, a brown-gray tabby, Toonces, wasn’t technically a rescue, but she was part of a litter from an outdoor cat that just kind of adopted my friend’s aunt’s family. Went to play with the whole group of 4, and knew she was meant to be mine.
Skip ahead 4 years, and I’m at my ex’s mother’s house. He & his brother are outside working on…something, when a tiny, weary white puppy staggers up the driveway and practically collapses in front of them. Seemed to decide we were his last hope. Initially took him to the shelter, who didn’t give him a even a week to live, but I told my ex I felt we had to try. He was 2 months old & weighed less than a pound, but started gaining weight immediately after bringing him home. Morbo turned out to be what looks like a Jack Russell mix, and due to whatever was inflicted on him in his previous life, sounds like he has consistent asthma. But he’s the sweetest, most energetic, cat-loving dog I know.
Another 2 years after that, and we find my black-and-white kitty, Spock (a female; made the mistake of letting the ex name her) and her brother huddled together in almost the same spot Morbo was found. Luckily they didn’t have any serious health issues beyond a typical worm clear-up. Found a home for the brother, Khan, and kept Spock. She was estimated, like Morbo, to be about 2 months old. I guess that driveway’s just a lost animal portal. Being raised around Morbo has given her more dog-like behaviors than Tooncy: I can carry her around on my shoulder and let her ride loose in the car, to name a few.
All of them are now 100% mine, and they’re such a great support to me through the rough times. I even kept the queen bed from my relationship days since all 3 usually end up sleeping with me.
Thanks for the pictures. I’m a dog person.
We adopted a Sheltie rescue when my kids were preteens. We were ready to love Teddy with all our hearts, but he wasn’t happy. We were away a good deal of the day and he was lonely, and he needed much more exercise than he got. When he developed signs of nervous stress we had to give him back – they were able to place him with a family that lived on a farm, and he thrived there. It was hard to give him back, but it was by far the best thing for Teddy.
My Phoebe cat and her dumb but handsome brother Jasper were adopted from our county shelter. After 17 years, Phoebe passed away two years ago and Jasper, lost without her, followed her over the Rainbow Bridge soon after. When my heart heals and we are ready, we’ll head back to the shelter for more love.
My little girl cat was not shy when I first met her. I was at a shelter, trying to get a different kitty to say hi, when she put her claws in my leg and quite reasonably demanded that I “pay attention to ME!” That was nearly seven years ago, and it’s still the major theme of our relationship. My girl is a Domestic Short-hair with some Bombay in her. And I will fight anyone who argues! I’ve never met a cat who clings to a favorite person like she does. Her name is Elphaba, but she also goes by Elphaba Underfoot, the Fuzzy Heart of Darkness & Queen of Lap-landia. And yes, she is always underfoot. It’s been seven years and I haven’t been able to go to the bathroom on my own since the day we became housemates.
Our other house buddy is a male Lynx-point Siamese, named Gus. He’s sometimes called The Amazing Gus-buster, for the bizarre pretzel shapes he contorts himself into. He turned up on the back porch about a year and a half after Elphaba and I got together. It was great timing too, as I’d been hoping my next cat would be a Siamese. Ask, and the universe provides! He really only wanted to get fed and be on his merry way. Instead he got the pair of us. He spends most of his day sleeping on my bed, and then giving me the stare when I get into bed because the whole thing is apparently “his spot” and His Preciousness can’t go find somewhere else to curl up.
Until I started a new job a little over a year ago I was a total rescue lady. I fostered for a local rescue group and volunteered at the Austin Humane Society every week. At the most bountiful I had five dogs and four cats, although due to old age I have three dogs and three cats. Two of my dogs are geriatric (16+) corgi/lab mixes, and my young dog is a 7 1/2 ACDx. The cats are a 12ish FIV+ brown tabby, a 9/10ish black kitty, and a 7 year old FIV+ orange tabby…I just saw a feral momma black kitty with two all black kittens yesterday morning, and I want to catch them to get them altered and rabies shots…Oh my!
About six years ago, I found my cat, Nousha, on a garbage can. On, not in! I late to a friend’s birthday party and walked up to see six young women, my friend among them, standing around a trash can. There was a super sweet little tuxedo cat sitting and eating tuna on the lid. Apparently, she had just shown up and was so sweet and adorable that we all fell in love. We called the local shelters, but they were all full. We took pictures and walked around the neighborhood to see if anybody knew her. We went around and around with what to do with her, since nobody could take her. Eventually, I agreed to take her temporarily because we already had five (5!) other cats and I had another friend I knew who was looking for a cat. But of course, temporary foster turned into undying love and I couldn’t give her up. My Noush! *heart-eyes emoji*
I adopted my rescue nearly a year ago and when people ask I say she’s an R.O.U.S. (Rat Terrier Of Unusual Size) people often don’t get the reference. No one actually knows what her history is, but she’s an absolute sweetheart and a great apartment puppy.
My “rescue” dog was willed to me from my grandmother. When she died, I got her hyperactive golden retriever who I loved to pieces and got to hang out with for a couple more years.
Thank you for sharing such adorable photos! I literally squealed and couldn’t stop saying, “Awwwwww!” It’s also been great to read through everyone’s stories.
I definitely empathize with how painful it can be emotionally to foster animals. There’s nothing comparable to taking in an animal with nowhere else to go, to bringing them back to full health while helping them transition to being ready to go to their forever home. Being that gateway in between is not easy, but damn if it isn’t entirely worth the heartache when watching your fosters go home with their family. Getting updates on my adopted fosters and how happy everyone is… I couldn’t hope for more.
With that said, I’ve currently got two dogs of my own, one of those two being a foster failure. Oops. I can honestly say that when I’d received an e-mail from my rescue asking to foster a Pug x Chihuahua mix that I would never have thought I’d actually end up keeping him. This little dog, named Perry, was an owner surrender due to the fact that his previous owner was moving house and couldn’t take him with. After some coordinating we managed to agree to meet up at a K-Mart parking lot, where she immediately opened her car door to show off an incredibly skittish dog who couldn’t stop shivering if he’d tried. He’s definitely come out of his shell since being here, and he’s truly proven how much of an absolute lover he is. He’s about four years old now. My little buddy, who to this day I call my clearance dog.
The other dog I’ve got here is a twenty-two week old Kishu Ken named Okami, and while she may not be a rescue, she’s been exactly what I needed after putting down my previous dog. I’m honestly still not over the loss, and I probably never will be, but this little girl stole my heart the second I saw her in person for the first time at the airport. She’s the true definition of terror, and I couldn’t have asked for a puppy with more attitude. Exactly what I wanted.
I also feel like I should talk a bit about my current foster dog, who is named Karma. She’s estimated to be around a year old, and we’ve been calling her a German Shepherd Dog mix. She was an owner surrender from a family who lived in a mobile home while hoarding dogs that they kept locked up in crates all day every day. The rescue coordinator never did get a reason as to why the family suddenly decided to surrender their numerous dogs, but at the very least these dogs were able to get out of that situation. The rest of the dogs who came from that place have already found their new homes, but Karma is a bit of a special case, hence why I’ve had her longer than usual. As a result of having been kept in a crate she was severely under socialized. She’d actually tried to bite me when I first went to evaluate her, but it was obvious that it was out of fear and not actual aggression. That first night was very difficult for her, and she resembled a feral dog who’d never even been around a human before, ever.
Fast forward to the present, where this dog is one of the most lovable dogs ever. She’s a total Velcro dog and refuses to let you walk around the house unattended (and it’s to her great dissatisfaction that I insist on closing the bathroom door for some semblance of privacy), but she’s confident enough in herself that she doesn’t stress when left alone. I can take her out in public without the fear of her breaking down, and she’s truly come to realize that the world outside is actually pretty okay. That said she still has some issues left over from her past, which means she needs an experienced owner who knows how to handle them. She’s got a place here for as long as she needs it though!
I have Belle the grey long hair part Maine coone part something else that I got from the Arlington VA shelter on their free adoption weekend about 6.5 years ago. She is one of the most emotionally needy cats I have ever seen. She loves everyone except when you touch her tummy or try to brush her which is a problem as she is a long hair.
I spent the weekend babysitting my cousin’s cat and I think I am truly living my best life. There’s nothing more wonderful than a cat that will let you pet her stomach and is so excited to see you that she just wants to rub her face all over yours. I think this is actually what love this.
I’ve had wonderful rescues misty my life but am sadly in a no pets home.
When I was a young girl I adopted a wonderful kitty that had been abandoned at a farm where we bought some hay for our own small farm. She was my best friend in the world at that time and when I was a teen she let me share all my woes while purring loud enough to be heard down the block. She died at a ripe old age after I was out of college and working my first job. I don’t have a photo handy but she was a pretty white kitty with some black markings on her head.
One of my favorite things about Jill’s novels are the wonderful animals she weaves into her stories. I look forward to reading her new release soon!
Our lives have been full of rescue animals, including a goat that stopped my husband in the middle of the desert and insisted on getting in his blue Miata and refused to get out until he brought her home. She taught us many things including that goats can climb an eight foot chain link fence.
We also had Teddy, the golden collie mix. When it snowed in the winter, people would sled down the main road of the tiny So. Cal. mountain town where we lived and Teddy would try to herd them.
Satch, the tiny cockatiel, was rescued as a young bird from a pet shop whose owner had died and no one checked on the animals for a while. Sad. He was a bad bird. When it was time to go in his cage, he would fly to the top of my favorite oil painting and shit on it while laughing at me.
Mousy Tongue, as a baby at the Juvenile Hall in San Bernardino, got an eye infection. The nurses treated his eyes and fed him cafeteria food until we agreed to take him home. He loved to hide on the stairs and jumbo out at Teddy.
And many more.
My two kitties are actually from the San Francisco SPCA and I adopted them in January 2015 after spending a little over a year cat-less for the first time in 18 years. I went to the shelter wanting a bonded pair of short-haired, black cats between three and five years old. I left with a not-bonded pair of mostly-white, long haired cats, one five and the other ten years old. LOL
The five-year-old had been at the SPCA only a week and was originally from Merced county, southeast of SF county. Named Frannie, she was outgoing and friendly and adorable, purring constantly and wanting ALL THE PETS.
She was in the same kennel (I use the term loosely, since the SF SPCA is pretty swanky) with a 10-year-old male former feral named Barry who had been at the shelter for seven months. He hid in a box on the floor and all I could see of him was a pair of bright blue eyes. I fell in love with the girl and decided to adopt her and then look for another cat a few months later once she’d gotten used to her new home.
When I went back to pick up Frannie the next day, Barry was in a box mounted to the wall so I could get a better look at him and try to say hi. He was NOT interested and hissed, showing off a mouth almost completely devoid of teeth. He’d been through the TNR process and lived as a feral in SF for years until someone noticed he was looking thin and unwell. Turned out most of his teeth were so rotten he couldn’t hunt or eat, so they yanked out all but the back four and put him up for adoption.
The adoption counselor actually had button with a picture of Barry pinned to her apron, and when I mentioned wanting two cats, she turned on the hard sell and I let myself be sold. 😉
Franny (who is now called Fiona Fluffypants) took to her new home instantly, but it took months – and a short course of Prozac – to get Barry comfortable. I figured he’d probably live in his various hidey holes most of the time, but he’s actually become the biggest lovebug ever. He sits on my lap, is the little spoon when I go to bed, and even hangs out next to the tub when I take a bath.
I’m so glad I let myself be talked into taking him home. 🙂
We have always had rescued dogs. Our latest is actually a pure breed poodle. People always assume that all rescues are mutts, but there are plenty of pure breed dogs looking for homes too!
My current golden retriever, Allie, isn’t a rescue, but her older sister Hannah was. We found her through an add in the classifieds in the newspapers – her first family had adopted her from a pet store and quickly found out that their young son was allergic to dogs. They brought her to a friend’s horse farm to stay until they found a new home for her, and she was 11 weeks old when we picked her up. I have had 3 golden retrievers over the years and I love them with all my heart.
My sister and I have Beagle Baby rescues. The first is a cutie named Spencer .The poor baby was actually brought back to the rescue group by a couple that had initially adopted him. Their only comment when they returned him was….’he’s not like a Labrador Retreiver.’ Uh, no…….he’s a Beagle! He’s a cuddler and a great companion. There’s almost nothing he likes better than a walk and to be with his family.
We adopted our fur baby almost 7 years ago. She was so tiny and cute when we brought her home. Little did we know that for the next year we would have to nurse her back to health or that she had not been fixed. In fact, she was so sick the first year we had her that she didn’t go into heat for 15 months! She has had issues on and off since then including a bleeding ulcer last year! The most recent diagnosis is seizures. We are keeping an eye on her and trying to determine if she needs to go on medication. She certainly keeps me on my toes and at the vet! Luckily, we love our vet!
I have had so many rescue cats : my beloved ChinChin, handsome Ezra Pound Kitty, Lil Miz Jill the Climbing Kitty, Master Jack the Cat Who Ate Wool, precious sweet Pip ( who died April 4, 2016) Master Colby and the Lovely Lilly. I’ll tell you the story of Colby adopted about two years ago.
When I met Colby in the shelter, he was one terrified cat. He had been abused by his previous owner and delivered to the shelter in extreme dehydration which they were able to fix. He gradually warmed uo a ittle bit to the various volunteers. The volunteer open Colby’s cage so i could see if he wanted to make friends. He did, but he was so scared. He allowed me to pet him but had his tail wrapped tightly around him I decided then and there I would adopt him because I wanted to be sure he would go to a home where he could take his own sweet time.
He spent about three months in hiding. One day I noticed him sitting in the doorway. That evening he was under the dining table watching me. He also observed how very affectionate precious sweet Pip was. After abut two weeks of staying about twenty feet from me at all times, he reduced the distance to ten feet ad huddled under a chair. A week passed and one day I was startled by a meow that was not Pip’s voice. I looked down and there was Colby, right next to my chair, looking for affection. He never looked back and has been ever so affectionate ever since.
However he still ran away whenever someone else was in the apartment, even my BF, whom he saw many times. I think it took him another six months to trust her. She was sitting in the couch, had her arm dangling down and suddenly, Colby head butted her hand, wanted attention. Next thing we knew, he was on her lap, purring away. I burst into tears.
From that day forward, he is wekcoming of everyone who comes over.
If I knew how to upload a photo I would.
We have two boys. The oldest is a rescue mutt that is 12 years old and the sweetest thing in the world. The younger of the two is the son of the other rescue we had that passed away a year ago. We miss her 🙁 but are glad we still have him!
Love Jill’s books and am excited for her new series!
My family has a history of adopting rescue pets, starting with “my” first dog (he was actually my grandmother’s dog, but because I was the oldest grandchild, he was considered mine). I remember going with my aunt to pick out a puppy when I was 4 or 5 (back in 1991). As soon as I saw him, I was extatic. Then, they let me name him. Apparently, I wanted to call him Mario or Ernie, but my aunt overruled me both times. I eventually got her to agree to Bert. He was such a sweet dog, but was dumb as a pile of bricks. When he was 11, he was diagnosed with cancer and we had to put him down just before Christmas of 2003.
Next, there was Roxie. She was so smart and was the sweetest dog. Unfortunately, the shelter my aunts got her from wasn’t very reputable and we found out that they lied about her health. She started to get really sick when she was 6 and her vet figured out that she was bitten by a tick before we adopted her. This caused a blood disorder and she was put down in April 2011.
A little under a month later, my cousin found out that North Shore Animal League was doing an “Adopt-a-thon,” so she, her boyfriend, my aunts, and I piled into the car and drove out there. Within five minutes my cousin spotted this little thing cowering in the back of her cage. Poor thing was petrified of all the people and the other dogs. Normally, we wouldn’t have gone for a dog like that, but she looked like a mini version of Roxie and we were looking for a dog similar to her. When we got her out of the cage, she snuggled right up to my cousin and we knew she was ours. On the way home, we decided her name was going to be Mia — I’m not sure why, but it seemed to fit her. We got her home just after midnight and we thought she’d be calm as she’d been very quiet in the car the entire way back from Long Island (about a half hour drive). Boy were we surprised when she started running around the entire house! In the 5 years since we brought her home, she’s only gotten crazier.
After San Bernardino I posted an old home movie of Mia that we took just before Christmas 2011. My aunts bought her a robotic toy dog and they asked me to tape her reaction to it. Poor thing was terrified of this yapping, gymnastic dog until my brother came upstairs and she became more confident in herself. You can watch the video here: http://www.mylittlebookcorner.com/2015/12/video-of-day-in-face-of-darkness.html.
We adopted from the local shelter and had a wonderful family member for almost 15 years.
People ask if we rescued our kittehs. They are siblings and we got them from a friend who lived in rural Illinois. Their dad, mom, and 2 other siblings stayed with his folks there until there came a day when the whole family couldn’t be found. Coyotes are suspected. So, ultimately yes, we rescued them from the food chain. They have yet to thank us, unless you count the 14 years of purrs and snuggles.
When I was about twelve, my aunt found two kittens on her boyfriend’s porch. Since said boyfriend was insanely allergic to cats, and my brother and I just happened to be staying with my grandmother that weekend, we fell in love with them and when our parents picked us up, we of course had to keep them! My brother named his orange tabby Simba and I named my gray tabby Thunder. He was my baby for years. I could literally hold him like a baby in my arms and dress him up. He was extremely tolerant for a cat! Sadly, I lost him when he was about 12, but he’s buried on the family ranch in our pet cemetery. (Not as creepy as it sounds. Lol) Thanks for the chance to enter!!
Our family found a cat meowing outside late at night on Christmas Eve a few years back. It was a cold winter and she was so skinny you could count her ribs. We took her in and have fattened her up (too much, in fact!). She was our first pet, unless you count goldfish, and she has since become a beloved member of the family.
We have a goofy black lab named Keira. She’s 10 years old and unfortunately starting to show signs of doggie dementia. 🙁
We love our current rescue, Leo the yellow lab. He is the sweetest dog who is very sensitive and expresses his emotions often through his classic ”ears down” or ”ears up” poses.
We can’t imagine our lives without him. Rescue pets are the best!
My brother has a little havanese named angel. Not a rescue, but oh so adorable.