Pooper was tiny (10-ish weeks old) when we saw her sitting on the curb at a Wendy’s drive-thru on a very, very busy road. She looked like she was waiting for the bus, so prim and proper with her tail neatly curled around her little back feet. It took about 20 min and most of a jr bacon cheeseburger to catch her. We were going to “find her a good home” since we already had 3 cats and an 80 lb dog in a one bedroom apartment that didn’t allow cats. That was 10 years ago. She’s my sweet baby.
Leo wandered out of the woods at a farm we used to live on. He was covered in mats and ticks and fleas. We were already feeding Annabelle, a kitty the previous renters had abandoned. I think they were friends, but the landlord said he definitely didn’t belong to the previous renters. The first day I met him, he let me trim off the mats and put Advantage on him. He was so needy for love, he drooled when he was pet (he’s still the neediest, most clingy cat I’ve ever had– and I adore him). He came by everyday and eventually started sleeping on the glider on the breezeway. When we moved, both came with us, of course, and became indoor-only Kitties of Leisure.
Annabelle passed from cancer a couple years later. Meeting Leo and Annabelle was extra serendipitous because we had recently lost two within a month of each other (Sammy, cancer and Bob, CKD), who were similar in both personalities and looks to Leo and Annabelle. It was a bit uncanny.
There has only been one time I’ve gone out and intentionally gotten a cat. My second, Wheezie, was from the shelter. I got her as a companion for my first cat, Frannie. There have been several others along the way, all have been strays or abandoned.
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