At least, they should.
Mine is animal rescue. It's easy to love animals, of course. They're cuddly and cute and helpless and lovable. If you have a heart, the love and affection of a furry friend instantly warms it. Rescuers, however, devote their time, money, resources, and sanity to giving animals a voice.
We'd had cats in the family home ever since Frank became a part of things. First was Booger, a chubby calico with a big black spot by her nose. Next was Genga, ruler of them all, rescued when he was left in a motel room to starve by what I can only assume were heartless terrible people. Then came Smoky, a ginger tabby taken in when a coworker fell too ill to care for him. Tigger was a grey striped boy who was headed to the dreaded SPCA. Zuzu, taken in when she was left with her littermates on the vet's doorstep. Lastly, Blizzard, adopted after a frantic phone call during, you guessed it, a snowstorm.
*Frank always said, a man who doesn't like cats, doesn't like women. Cats are finicky, demanding, spoiled, selfish, and demand attention on their terms while returning affection only when they please. He was pretty spot-on with that analogy - did I mention he was the smartest man I've known?
My friend Grace is the founder of Finding Shelter Animal Rescue (www.findingshelter.org) and in the winter of 2010, she asked if I would foster a kitty named Sheila. She'd been found running the streets of West Chester on the day of Grace's sister's wedding. Being allergic to cats, Grace kept Sheila on the third floor of her house away from her and the 6-10 permanent and foster dogs taking up residence. So one Saturday, I picked up a sweet grey kitty and brought her home. You'd think she'd been starved...she became Miss Piggy. hehehe :) The following week, we heard some bad news from Frank's doctors - whatever was making him feel bad was in fact, very bad. I came home from school every night and cried in my big easy chair. This kitty cuddled up in my lap every night, all night, then slept spooned next to me in my big bed.
After two weeks, I let Grace know "Sheila" could be taken off the adoption list.
I believe my dad sent me this beautiful kitty when I needed her most. For four years, she's been my friend, my sidekick, my best girl. Not that she met a lot of men in her time with me, but when she snuggled up to Adam right away after hissing at others - I, too, trusted him.
"I may have rescued you...but it was you who saved me."
We'd had cats in the family home ever since Frank became a part of things. First was Booger, a chubby calico with a big black spot by her nose. Next was Genga, ruler of them all, rescued when he was left in a motel room to starve by what I can only assume were heartless terrible people. Then came Smoky, a ginger tabby taken in when a coworker fell too ill to care for him. Tigger was a grey striped boy who was headed to the dreaded SPCA. Zuzu, taken in when she was left with her littermates on the vet's doorstep. Lastly, Blizzard, adopted after a frantic phone call during, you guessed it, a snowstorm.
*Frank always said, a man who doesn't like cats, doesn't like women. Cats are finicky, demanding, spoiled, selfish, and demand attention on their terms while returning affection only when they please. He was pretty spot-on with that analogy - did I mention he was the smartest man I've known?
My friend Grace is the founder of Finding Shelter Animal Rescue (www.findingshelter.org) and in the winter of 2010, she asked if I would foster a kitty named Sheila. She'd been found running the streets of West Chester on the day of Grace's sister's wedding. Being allergic to cats, Grace kept Sheila on the third floor of her house away from her and the 6-10 permanent and foster dogs taking up residence. So one Saturday, I picked up a sweet grey kitty and brought her home. You'd think she'd been starved...she became Miss Piggy. hehehe :) The following week, we heard some bad news from Frank's doctors - whatever was making him feel bad was in fact, very bad. I came home from school every night and cried in my big easy chair. This kitty cuddled up in my lap every night, all night, then slept spooned next to me in my big bed.
I believe my dad sent me this beautiful kitty when I needed her most. For four years, she's been my friend, my sidekick, my best girl. Not that she met a lot of men in her time with me, but when she snuggled up to Adam right away after hissing at others - I, too, trusted him.
"I may have rescued you...but it was you who saved me."
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