One of the things I like about working at Drs. Foster and Smith is the wide variety of animals that come to our photo studio as models for our catalogs. Many are here from our local humane society, and often an animal is adopted by an employee and goes home with a loving new owner at the end of the day, instead of back to the shelter. Pretty cool.

One morning about 4 years ago, I came into work to find a litter of kittens in my office. The kittens were here for photos and one of my co-workers decided that they should spend the day in my office, so people coming in and out might fall in love with them and adopt them.

mason_meets_sassy

Then someone suggested I adopt one of them. I immediately listed all of the very good reasons I couldn’t possibly take home a kitten. I already had Mason, a handsome Maine Coon Cat who seemed very happy being an ‘only’ pet. My husband wasn’t too thrilled with the amount of cat hair already around our house, and adding to that might be pushing it. Besides, any kitten I might consider taking would have to be a male; in my admittedly biased experience, they were usually more mellow and cuddly than female cats.

By this time, one of the kittens had climbed up into my lap and was following the movement of my hands as I talked. It reached out a small paw, pulled my hand closer, and gently licked my finger. Then it turned around once, settled on my lap and started to purr. Very mellow. Very cuddly. I lifted it up and had a look underneath. Too young for me to see much at all, but I thought I could see the beginnings of the parts that qualified it as a boy.

By the end of the day, my helpful co-workers were insisting that I HAD to take this kitten home, since it had picked me out, AND it was so friendly, AND it was a boy. I wavered, but I felt it wasn’t fair to bring home another cat without warning my husband. I called home and described the kitten, expecting strong objections, and instead heard, “It does sound like a nice kitten. Whatever you think, Honey”. With my last excuse trashed, I put the kitten into a borrowed carrier, dubbed him Stanley, and drove home.

Sassy all grown up!

At the house, the reception was lukewarm. The kitten ran up to Mason as if he was a long-lost friend. Mason glanced at the kitten, looked at me as if to say, “What were you thinking?” turned around and walked away. I was a bit concerned but the kitten persisted, and when I found them curled up together on the bed that evening, I knew they’d be fine.

As the days went by, I began congratulating myself for selecting such a great new addition. I couldn’t help noticing, though, that Stanley increasingly looked, sounded and acted decidedly….well, feminine. I lifted his tail and took another look. There was no doubt about it now-Stanley was a girl! I was a bit embarrassed at having made such a simple mistake, but the kitten was already a permanent part of the family. So ‘Stanley’ became ‘Sassy’ and now we can’t imagine not having her here. She’s sitting on my lap right now. Very mellow. Very cuddly. I’m so glad she picked me out.

Originally posted on http://www.dfs-pet-blog.com/

brewster

We adopted Brewster in July 2008 when he was 3 months old from MeoowzResQ. He is an orange tabby Maine Coon Kitten. He was one of many in the litter. When I first saw his picture I was in love. He is such a sweet kitty but was not used to human touch since he spent most of his time in a cage with the litter waiting to be adopted. When he first came to our house I didn’t think he would stop bouncing off the walls! Running around free was a new thing for him even though he was well cared for and given plenty of love.

Our other 6 year old cat was not sure what to do with Brewster but now loves him too!

Brewster’s favorite toy is anything that has feathers on it. He like to chew on them, and is often seen with a feather mustache since they stick to his whiskers. We have yet to get a picture of this since he runs really fast.
 
My experience with pet adoption was very positive. All the volunteers do this out of love, and you can tell by the disposition of the cat. Also, the transfer of Brewster from the foster dad to my house was so much easier on the cat. I will definitely adopt again when we are looking for another addition. Thanks to MeoowzResQ we have a wonderful, loving and well adjusted kitten that will be taken care of forever.

Jack

I wanted to share our adoption story – Our cat Snowball passed away a couple weeks ago. Randy found a picture of a cat at Wayside Waifs, a local animal shelter. Eggnog looked very much like Snowball, but in his picture he had sad eyes. I instantly felt pulled to this cat. As I read through his bio, I discovered that he had been there since Halloween and he was Snowball’s exact age – 10 years and a couple months. The pull got stronger.

After looking at his picture several times a day and corresponding with the shelter about him, we decided to go meet Eggnog in person that weekend. Snowball had only been gone a week, and I felt disloyal and guilty for looking so soon. But I also felt Snowball led me to this cat, and I didn’t know how much longer he would be around – older cats don’t often get adopted and he had already been there 6 weeks.

We went on the condition that we couldn’t take him home just because he reminded me of Snowball. I was very nervous that I had “set him up” with all my expectations. But after we met him, we both knew. We were taking him home.

The first few days were fine – he was recovering from an upper respiratory infection and sluggish and sneezing. We figured after he got accustomed to us and his new home, we’d start to see who this cat really was. We dubbed him Jack – a name that somehow really suits him. Well, instead of getting better, by Wednesday Jack was not eating or drinking and had diarrhea and was vomiting. I rushed him to the vet – the very one who a week and a half before had put Snowball to sleep. She was concerned that he had kidney issues and to take him back to the shelter for tests. She warned me not to get too attached.

I made an appointment that afternoon with the shelter vet. Jack was not too happy to be returning to the vet. The shelter vet was concerned he may have coccidia and gave him some meds immediately and sent me home with some. His fecal came up negative for that, but it was a poor sample and possible to get a false negative. I also had the vet take a blood sample. The vet called the next day with the blood work results – everything checked out except he had high neutrophil levels – suggesting his immune system was fighting off a serious infection.

He asked me to return with Jack so he could do a feline distemper test. Shortly after taking the test, the results were in – positive!

Unbelievable! The vet was telling me my “replacement” cat was probably going to die! We discussed the situation at length. He had seen 12 cases of distemper at the shelter – none of them had survived. If I left him at the shelter, I would be leaving him to die. My only option was to provide him supportive care myself. I had no choice with Snowball, but I did with Jack. The vet sent me home with fluids, cans of AD, and medications to reduce fever and vomiting, and anti-bacterial drugs. He shook my hand and said “good luck”.

The next three days, I spent dedicated to Jack’s recovery. I pumped him full of fluids, and administered his medications throughout the day, keeping track of everything I did to him. The vomiting stopped after a day of the anti-vomiting drugs. I started force-feeding him watery AD through a syringe on Saturday. I also slipped him some colloidal silver in the AD – supposed to help immune support. Randy and I spent a lot of time in his bathroom just sitting with him and petting him. We knew he was too weak to move about and he needed lots of love. I read up on feline distemper and did everything I read to do for him. And I counted. If he made it to day 5, he had a good chance of making it. Day 5 was Monday – and he started improving. By Tuesday, Jack was showing signs of recovery – he started eating and drinking on his own, and he started doing kitty things – playing, purring, wanting his belly rubbed. And today he is even running around and enjoying the delights of his new home – birdwatching and sunbathing (inside of course!).

We could tell even during his illness how much he loved being here – when he was too weak to jump on the bed, he would meow at us until we lifted him up and he loves to sleep in between us! Now that he is feeling better, we are really getting to see what a great cat he is and a wonderful addition to our family. I know Snowball approves. Snowball sent him to us.

Thanks for letting me share Jack’s adoption story.

Jennifer

Jack’s story is brought to us by  http://jennandrandy.blogspot.com/

Thurman

I adopted Thurman last fall from the Humane Society. I had originally come out to look at another cat, but that cat wasn’t for me.

I then saw Thurman laying in his cage, taking up most of the room (he’s rather large), and looking utterly depressed. It was love, at least for me, at first sight. Thurman had been surrendered by his previous owner because he or she had too many animals, so apparently Thurman was the one who had to go.  I took Thurman home with me and introduced him to my other two cats, Jax and Friskie, who are also adoptees from the Humane Society. Thurman lived under the bed for three weeks, but eventually came out and is now best friends with Friskie.  He and Jax are still trying to figure out who is the top cat. He loves his treats, and comes running when I open the treat jar. In the information I obtained from the Humane Society, it recommended that Thurman lose some weight.  He hasn’t lost any weight, and probably has gained some,  but he’s been a great addition to the family. I highly recommend to anyone thinking about adopting a cat to consider an older cat-they are usually well-trained and easy to deal with compared to all of the kitten issues you have to address, and they are usually grateful for any attention given to them.

~Rochelle A. Funderburg

This story is brough to us by Champaign County Humane Society http://www.cuhumane.org

Mary Louise

My Aunt Marge has always been an animal lover, with a special affinity for cats. Since she and my uncle never had any children, their pets served as satisfactory substitutes. After my uncle died, Aunt Marge’s Siamese, Streaker, was a wonderful companion for her. Unfortunately, the old cat died just a year after my uncle, so Aunt Marge was in the market for a new friend, and she already had a name in mind—Mary Louise. She went to the local animal shelter in search of a furry pal.

Most folks who visit shelters looking for a pet want an attractive, healthy animal, and there are always plenty of these available. But Aunt Marge surprised the workers by telling them she wanted a cat that no one else would want—one that was surely marked for euthanasia. They led her to a cage in the back.

Mary Louise was a skinny, scruffy-looking half-grown feline. She was cowering in the back of her cage when Aunt Marge met her. It was immediately obvious that she had only three legs—two front and one rear. Even if she had had all four appendages, Mary Louise could never have been described as “pretty,” even by the most compassionate cat fancier. Marge was informed that the animal had been rescued from two dogs who were trying to use her as a chew toy. She hadn’t been seriously injured, but she had been traumatized. They had no idea how she had lost her leg, but it was obvious the appendage had been surgically removed. Since she was deemed unlikely for adoption, when the shelter ran out of space, this kitty would be the first to be euthanized in order to make room for new arrivals.

She was very thin, with a long rat-like tail and huge, lifeless green eyes. Her matted fur was a strange combination of colors—black, brown, gray, and orange—with no discernible pattern. She reminded my aunt of a Jackson Pollack painting, with several different colors and shades splashed randomly over her tiny body. Aunt Marge, however, remained steadfast and asked to hold the unfortunate creature.

The attendant warned my aunt that the cat was not friendly and suggested that perhaps another cat would make a much better pet, but Marge insisted. To everyone’s surprise, the cat allowed Aunt Marge to hold her and stroke her. She seemed to know her savior had arrived to rescue her. As my aunt held Mary Louise, she noticed something surprising: the kitty had six toes on each front paw. Marge, a retired teacher and avid reader, immediately thought of the Hemingway cats in Key West and wondered if this was one of their relatives. Marge adopted Mary Louise and took her home.

The frightened kitten spent the first two weeks cowering under Aunt Marge’s bed. Marge had to place her food and water dishes there, and she spent these days talking to the cat, getting her used to her soothing voice.

Finally, Mary Louise began to greet my aunt when she brought food to the bedroom, and gradually, she allowed Marge to pet her. After a few more days, Mary Louise began to seek affection from Marge and began exploring her new home. She was slowly introduced to new people who were frequent visitors.

Now, a year later, Mary Louise has been amazingly transformed. Her unique coat is lustrous and shiny, her eyes are bright, and she’s fat and happy. Even her rodent-like tail has filled out. She loves everyone and is always ready for a game of “chase the string” or “follow the bouncing ball.” She has surprising agility for a three-legged cat. She also adores curling up in a warm lap for a long nap. She’s a wonderful companion for Aunt Marge.

Mary Louise, like most neglected and abused animals, just needed some TLC in order to “bloom.” Once she was treated with kindness, she was able to achieve her full potential and become a treasured furpal. Aunt Marge saved Mary Louise’s life, and the cat repays her rescuer daily with companionship and undying devotion.