Loading ...January Contest Winners!
It’s time to announce the January contest winners. I got some really good adoption stories this month, it was SO hard to decide who got first and second place. Ultimately, I went with the following stories (here’s the top five):
FIRST PLACE: The story of “My Golden Miracle” by Linda Peterson
“Three years ago my home was destroyed by a fire that killed 4 of my 5 dogs. Within days it was evident that the surviving dog was so traumatized that he just lay in a huddle and would not eat, walk, or play, and he barely responded to me. Although not yet ready myself, I felt I had to adopt another dog or I would lose Boulder Bob, my last love.
I contacted a local rescue group and they came immediately to fill out paperwork. The lady asked if she could bring a dog she was then fostering and of course I said “yes.” Out of her car bounded this little golden ball of fluff, a half Samoyed and half Golden Retriever. As we filled out paperwork I watched her with Boulder. Before we finished, and this lady said I could go to their sanctuary and “pick out” my adoptee, she and Bo were running up and down the halls together, playing, and for the first time in a week, he ate!
“I want HER!” I emphatically stated. “But she’s 9 years old” was the reply. I didn’t care. I knew it was a match made in heaven and she WAS up for adoption. She stayed from right that day. Within a few more days I found she was healing my heart, too. Just to see and hear them play, to go for walks again. Her name is Sammy Jo, although I also call her my Golden Miracle for all she brought to us.
She just turned 13 and hasn’t slowed down a bit! I truly believe God knew when he sent her to us that it was meant to be. She is such a treasure to both of us and has healed so much pain and loss.
She is a very special girl!”
SECOND PLACE: The story of Brutus, by Melissa Whistler
“So my husband and I were renters at an apartment in Sacramento, CA. We had three wonderful cats (two adults and one kitten), and things were going just wonderful and fine.
One day in August of 2007, as we walked down one of the paths heading towards the office (in order to check our mail) I spot ahead of me something orange, standing very perfectly still – honestly I nearly thought it was a cat statue for as still and rigid the cat was. I slowed down, bent down, and started to mew and call to this lil’ orangie. He turned his head in my direction and thank God, did not run. Actually I was able to approach him! Then I saw it, the eyes, those painful infected eyes – I’d seen it before, and was almost 99% sure this poor lil’ young feline was suffering from a genetic condition, Bilateral Entropion. The eye lids curl inward, rubbing the poor eyes causing, pain, swelling, infection, eventually full blindness, corneal damage, and even death if the infections are left to run rampant.
Well I had to do something – I couldn’t leave him this way. So I asked a few of the apartment units around the general area where I found the cat if they owned him or knew who did. No luck. Well, I decided this lil’ guy was a bit scrawny – I better feed him, just for now. I ran back to my unit and got a handful of kibble. I thought this guy had never eaten before! He scarfed it down and purred like you wouldn’t believe.
So then I was on a mission. I expanded my questioning of where he came from to more units, and get this, he followed me around by my voice and his very limited sight, to each and every door. So I didn’t have to state, “Do you know who owns the sick orange cat out there…?” I just said, “Is this cat yours, or do you know where he lives?” because he just stood there presenting himself, even when I went to upstairs units!
Well I canvassed for maybe 45 minutes and nobody knew anything much except they’d been seeing him sleep in the bushes and he looked hungry and lonely. Well it looked like a cat dump – someone didn’t take the time to find him help, or surrender him to a shelter or any rescue organization; they simply left him to die this way. I put up signs in all four laundry rooms searching for an owner or information, no response. I fed him every day, usually twice out of my own cat food, and eventually he migrated down to my end of the complex – well I mean that is where the food was and all. So there he was, parked in front of my unit most of the time. I did wipe out his eyes a few times, to make him more comfortable.
After about two weeks with no word from anyone, no response whatsoever to my signs in the laundry rooms, I decided I needed to get him help. At this point, my husband was not willing to consider adoption of the feline, as we had three females already. But he allowed me to feed and care for him, and I could see it in his eyes, he felt so very sorry for this poor young male kitty.
I set out online to find rescue, no-kill organizations that might be able to assess his health and confirm the Entropion idea I had. I mean, I’d rolled back the lids and they did in fact curl inward, just as a previous cat of my mother’s did – I was fairly sure, but yes I needed a vet’s help here. Finally, I received an email from a rescue organization in Auburn, CA, about 45 minutes to an hour from my home. They were willing to take him in and do whatever it took to get him adoptable, as long as he was disease free (FIV, FeLv, etc).
I’d been calling him Pumpkin for a while, and of course after loving him, sitting with him daily for pettings and talks, feeding him, I was getting attached, but I knew I had no money to give him the care he required. Finally the day arrived and I drove him all the way to Auburn.
Via email correspondence I was updated on his progress, found he was clean of all disease! They fixed him, vaccinated him, microchipped him, and confirmed my diagnosis of Entropion. Their vet was not comfortable with full corrective surgery, but through antibiotics the infections cleared and they did what is known as “tacking.” They drew out the lids and sutured them in a position that would leave them outside the eye ball and hoped that would train the skin to stay put.
Well after he was adoptable condition, I couldn’t bare it, I’d pined for this cat for the two weeks he was gone at this rescue shelter, I cried, it was torture. I emailed the gal I’d be corresponding with and asked, “Well you know, can I adopt him back?” She said “Of Course!” you saved him, knew what was wrong with him, and found him assistance, we think you’d be the perfect home actually!
I convinced my husband, who stated as long as he got to name him, we could have our little boy cat. It was set – we were to get “Brutus” (named after the Ohio State Buckeyes football mascot – Brutus the Buckeye). I was overjoyed and couldn’t wait! We picked up Pumpkin, now Brutus, at the Auburn shelter in early September. He looked fantastic, and slowly had been putting on a little weight. He was only about 8 lbs when we had taken him in, and about 10 months of age. Brutus began to thrive and flourish and even find a place in the ranks with the female cats of the household.
But then I started to realize, the “tacking” the rescue vet had done, wasn’t taking. Discharge began to loom in his eyes again and the folding was creeping back. What was I going to do? Their vet just didn’t feel skilled enough to handle the full cosmetic surgery as it were. Our prayers were thankfully answered when my Grandfather offered to pay for whatever Brutus needed to see correctly and be healthy – I knew of just the vet!
My current vet office in Sacramento had done my mother’s cat back in 1999, and they had achieved perfection. To our surprise the procedure hadn’t raised much in price and they were willing to take it on! Finally Brutus got in, had the full corrective procedure, and then came home looking like a crazed clown with a cone on his head! After a lot of cleanings, vet visits, medications, Brutus looked right, felt right – HE COULD SEE! He discovered how to play, what a fly was…. He no longer sulked low to the ground around the house; he held his head and tail high! Brutus was a regular kitty!
Brutus went from a skinny, shy, hurting, suffering, 8 lb, 10 month old stray, to today, a healthy, happy, frisky, 17 lb, 2 yr old loved feline with a fur-ever home, My home.
He and I have both been blessed with the kind of relationship you only find between a cat and their “meowmy.”
THIRD PLACE: The story of Buddy, by Gina Woods-Norris
“We estimate that Buddy lived on the streets at least six years before we adopted him in 1991. One day in 1988, a strapping orange-striped tomcat showed up in my yard (where I lived prior to marrying my husband). He started hanging about, which prompted me to ask my neighbors about him. They informed me that he was a stray who was well-known, that he made the rounds and pleaded his case to many of the neighbors. Some of them fed him, but most of the time he resorted to stealing food from their outdoor pets’ dishes. He was fondly thought of as a bit of a pest!
Despite his reputation, the big tom cat and I seemed to make a connection. In subsequent days I gained enough of his trust that he eventually allowed me to pet him. I wasn’t allowed pets at my rental, so he remained an outdoor kitty. I didn’t feed him as he seemed to be maintaining his weight.
After we had been acquainted for a time, I figured I ought to think of something else to call him besides “Hey Kitty.” He was becoming a dear little friend. Often, when I arrived home from work, he would greet me at the gate. Then, he would shadow me as I took my evening walk around the neighborhood. So, it seemed natural that I start calling him “Little Buddy” or Buddy for short.
When my husband-to-be and I decided to get married a few years later, I moved away from the neighborhood, sadly wishing Buddy good-bye. At the time I had not considered taking him to our new abode and attempting to make an outdoor tom cat into an indoor pet.
About a month later I had to make a trip back to my old neighborhood, so I decided to stop by to visit my former housemates. They occupied the back part of the house which was divided into two rentals. I had rented the front part of the house. It had a small porch where Buddy and I would hang out together during many of his daily visits, especially in the spring and summertime.
Finding one of my former housemates at home, and after engaging in some small talk, I asked if he’d seen Buddy around. He informed me that not only had he seen him, but Buddy had been sleeping on the porch every night for the month since I’d left! The front part of the house that I had rented stood empty, waiting for a new tenant. There was no welcoming porch light left on in the evenings as there had been every night for the past few years.
Yet still, Buddy would return from his daily jaunts and sleep there each night, “waiting” for me to come back. I was humbled and touched beyond words. (The thought of it still brings tears to my eyes.) I stood there wondering if Buddy would come running, as he had in the past whenever I called out to him. I looked around the yard but I didn’t see him. I called out his name. Immediately he bounded out from under the bushes! He greeted me with a plaintive meow and a look that seemed to say, “Where have you been?!” I reached down to give him a pat and he seemed so happy to see me.
My decision was made. After bidding a quick farewell to my former housemate, I immediately packed Buddy into our car and brought him home. I decided to telephone my hubby at work and tell him the story after the fact! But I needn’t have feared, once he heard about Buddy sleeping on the porch, he agreed that such devotion could not go unrewarded. With a seal of approval from our landlord (who luckily happened to be my soft-hearted grandmother), Buddy became a treasured member of our family.”
FOURTH PLACE: The story of Cammi, by Catherine Frazier
“I wasn’t looking for a kitten that day.
It was December 24, 2007, exactly one year after I starting caring for my beloved tuxedo cat, Elliott, in his fight against chronic renal failure. Elliott fought CRF bravely until March 16, 2006, when he suffered from grand mal seizures, went into heart failure and lost his sight. His wonderful vet, Dr. Christina Hoefer, helped him to pass once we knew just how sick he was. I was still crying for Elliott; I could not listen to the song “Dig” by the band Incubus. That song was on the radio twice during E’s last trip to the vet that terrible morning.
I went to PetCo on purpose because I was afraid that one of my favorite adoption organizations, Town Cats, would be out at my usual pet food store on Christmas Eve, trying to give kitties new homes for Christmas. My heart was heavy mourning for E. I grabbed a bag of kibble and a toy for my furkids at home, and went to the front of the store to pay.
Town Cats was there—I’d never seen them at that store! A teenage girl working as an adoption volunteer was playing with a perky tiny tuxedo kitten. The kitten looked directly at me and we locked eyes. A voice in my head said, “Take this kitten home, mom. She will make a difference in your life. She deserves to live with you.”
Oh I tried to resist! I encouraged my logical mind to take over and say “you don’t need another cat,” but the voice was louder. I made the mistake of walking over to the adoption area to ask about the kitten.
“Her name is Hera,” the girl said. Logical mind said “but you have boy cats, even though everyone is fixed. Girl cats are arrogant.” The voice said “take this tiny girl home, mom.” The girl gave me Hera’s backstory: Her mom was living on the streets and was trapped and scheduled for her spay surgery the next morning. So much for spay surgery—Gina gave birth to six premature kittens that night! Two died nearly immediately, and the rest of the litter fought through their prematurity and the kitten sniffles. The kitten in front of me, who looked no older than eight weeks old, was actually nearly five months old. She’d been the runt and the spunkiest of her siblings.
She also told me Hera’s foster family was on their way to pick her up. At least she was not going to be in the shelter for Christmas, said the logical voice. “Take this kitten home, mom,” said the voice in my head.
I held the kitten and she was already purring loudly, looking for her feather toy. I started to cry. “Give me the adoption papers. Rosie (the person in charge of adoptions) approved me for a kitten this past spring, I am going to take this girl home. I’ll go home and get my carrier and be right back.”
When I returned, her foster family was there to take her home. They were overjoyed that Hera had found her place. I learned she’d been hand-raised by an 11-year-old girl.
Hera immediately fit in with the boys. She didn’t take any pushing around at all, and even though she weighed barely 3 pounds, she took on her 16+ pound new brothers Matt and Ryan. Her new brother Scottie took to her immediately.
She also had a name change, Cammi, to fit in with the hockey-names theme of all of my furkids.
Cammi sleeps with me, comes when I call her, and is rabid about feather toys. She insists on two cans of food a day, and her only brands are Tiki Cat or Weruva. She wears sweaters to bed, and sleeps in her stroller next to my bed, snuggled in fleece blankies. Cammi has made a difference in my life and given back so much unconditional love.
The voice knew, and I believe the voice was my beloved Elliott.
And I can listen to the Incubus song “Dig” without crying anymore.”
FIFTH PLACE: The story of Pinta, by Anne Balthaser
“We decided to adopt a dog for my son. It was to be his dog and his responsibility. We did not have any pets and to be honest, my husband and I were not thrilled of the idea. But, we decided we would do it for our son. We made a list of qualities we were looking for and went searching for the perfect dog. We came up with rules that my son had to agree with before we would adopt one. Of course, my son would agree to anything to have a pet dog.
After two months we found a dog. The foster mom had explained “Pinta” was rescued from a hoarder from Arkansas (we live in PA) and was chained outside to a cement pipe. She was then shipped to Tennessee to the Catahoula Rescue Group. Pinta would not let any human get near her and she was very scared. But, she was very sweet and fit our list of what we were looking for.
It turns out the foster home was a 2 hour trip from our house. So we made plans to see if she liked us and we liked her. My husband and I took a day off work and my son took a “sick” day from school. As we were making the 2 hour trip on a very rainy day, my husband and I were asking each other “what are we doing”? My son, who was oblivious to everything but getting a dog, was in the back seat excited as can be.
We first saw Pinta sitting on a sofa, she was so nervous. My son sat right next to her. She was slowly trying to scoot away without anyone noticing her. We had to admit she was a doll. We took her home with us. On the way home we found out the hard way she gets car sick. We felt so bad for her and just wanted to make her happy.
We get her home and the first thing she did was hop on my husband’s chair. We really did not want her on the furniture, but how can we say no after what she endured. In the next couple of days she had a couple of accidents on our new rug we just had installed 4 months ago. Again, we were questioning our decision about her. But when she looked at us with those “puppy eyes” we were lost.
We have had Pinta for a year and a half now. Every rule we made before we adopted her flew right out the window. Pinta is the “Queen Bee” in our house. She did not turn out to be my son’s dog, but my husband’s. She follows him everywhere, always giving him kisses and sitting on his lap. She goes on the furniture, sleeps in our bed, (she loves sleeping under the covers). She is such a lovable and playful dog, that we cannot believe we ever had doubts about adopting her. We were the kind of people who made fun of others when it came to the attention and things they would do for their pets. Now WE are those people. We get sad thinking if we would ever lose her. She is that important to us.
As for my son, since he said Dad took his pet, he would like a cat for his own. Needless to say two weeks ago we adopted “Tiger.” Here we go again!!”
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Thank you so much to everyone who entered, I truly loved all your stories and had such a hard time choosing the winners. Please stay tuned to hear about the February contest!
