Kittens are adorable. They're soft and playful and cuddly. Who wouldn't want one? I love cats and kittens, so I'm all for anyone else wanting one. However, there are some things people might not think of before they get a kitten.
We all love a heart-warming, animal rescue story. Giving an animal another chance at life or a better home is inspiring. All animals deserve to be loved and cared for. I like to think all pet owners strive to provide the best environment for them. Whether it’s intentional or not, sometimes an animal’s situation has to change. Not every home is the best for them.
This is a PSA within a story.
When it comes to getting a pet, adoption should always be an option—it's just the right thing to do.
Baby May came into my life as Blueberry, a long haired Chihuahua that had been taken from an abusive home. Every noise scared her, the tiny little ball of black fur hiding in the back of her cage at the adoption fair, cowering if anyone dared to come near her cage, but that didn't stop me. No one else was interested in her, everyone wanted the puppies and the dogs that wagged their tails at everyone, but I wanted her, I wanted to help her. I sat down outside her cage, offering her treats and love, slowly coaxing her out. It was official, I was in love. I called my mom to come see her, as I needed her approval since I lived with her, begging for her to come see this timid little dog. When my mom arrived, the look on my face told her everything that she needed to know; this dog was coming home with us. Papers were signed, visits were arranged, and she came home with us. As soon as we got home, she walked the perimeter of our backyard, unsure of the new space, looking like a fox stalking prey.
When my husband and I got married, we had talked about getting a kitten, but hadn't really given much thought to actually adopting a cat. We had visited a humane society many times, seen cats and kittens of various ages, but none of them ever felt like the kitty for us. And then I was scrolling through my newsfeed on Facebook one afternoon, and I scrolled past this picture too quickly, almost missing it. When I scrolled back up, I knew that I was in love. His little face was just the saddest thing I had ever seen, so I reached out to the person who had taken him in to foster. It just so happened to be a family member of mine, so I called her and asked all of the usual questions. Male or female? How old? Vet checked? Shots? All the good stuff. Unfortunately, she didn't know much about him, because her husband had found him and one sibling (who unfortunately had to be put down because they were suffering, or we might have had two kitties) and they had only taken them to the vet to make sure they were healthy. After getting off the phone with her, we messaged back and forth on Facebook some more about logistics, as my husband was still at work at that point. I texted my husband and told him that there was something we needed to talk about when he got home (brutal, I know) and waited not so patiently.
Hello! My name is Opal! I come from a shelter in a very small town. The shelter was okay, but definitely not what I wanted. I was happy to have what food I did, but it wasn't enough and I was malnourished and underweight... I was very quiet and afraid that nobody would love me or ever adopt me. I was quiet, like a good dog. Good dogs don't bark, so I'm told.
"I had no idea about puppy farms, I just fell in love with Alfie and handed over the money."
Alfie (a golden cocker spaniel puppy), in his very short life, had to endure 29 visits to the Vet not forgetting the experience he had before Stacey fell in love with him. He died a month after she bought him.
Please help close down Puppy Farms in the UK and overseas.
The story of how we got Kenzo is both sweet and sad. He belonged to our neighbors. When we moved into the house across the road we would pet him through their high metal fence whenever we could and smuggle out treats to him. Soon, he would keep running away from his owner's house to come find us; once we found him wandering around in our living room. The family he belonged to was cruel to him, and finally, after Kenzo constantly running away to us and cutting his nose trying to get under their fence, the owner just walked him across the street with a pathetic bag of dog belongings and gave him to us.
I'm not too sure where I exactly came from, somewhere in the south I believe. I wasn't loved, didn't have a name, or a home. Soon my life was going to change for the better. Before I knew it I was being transported up north to a new home. However, my new home was in a crate in a rescue. The people were really nice. I was given blankets, a toy, and a name.