About three months ago, when we decided we were definitely going to move into an apartment that allowed pets, I began looking for a new addition to our family. In my online searches of pounds, humane societies, etc., I stumbled across Brooke's Legacy Animal Rescue, an organization that literally rescues cats and dogs from kill shelters on the day they're scheduled to be euthanized--I was excited at the prospect of freeing up a space for another animal to be rescued, so I looked through the pages of pets and found the most gorgeous calico cat! My childhood cats were calicoes, and I love them more than the average person probably does, but how can the average person NOT love them? I mean, they're stinkin' beautiful.
Anyway, my only concern was that our big move was still months away, leaving an uncomfortable amount of time for someone else to snatch up my lovely cat.
So I waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Then WE FINALLY MOVED.
And I waited a little more.
The very day that we had enough money to adopt her (or rather, the very day that our student loan refund checks came in), I marched into Petco for the adoption event and slammed my donation check for the adoption down on the table.
"I'm here for THAT CAT!" I announced, pointing at "Rosie Cheeks" the calico.
Unfortunately for me (and her), they had kept her in a cat carrier for much too long and she had made quite a excremental mess of herself. When I finally got to meet her, she was wet, extremely unhappy, and smelled less than great. I loved her anyway, and her restraint in not clawing me to death in her bedraggled state was definitely to her credit. I arranged to pick her up from her foster mom the next day and practically pranced home in anticipation.
When Ricky and I drove back home with our new "fur baby" the next afternoon, she shed all over us in nervousness and perched on Ricky's shoulder like a parrot. It was awesome.
So here she is. She's settled in quite nicely in her new home--we think she used to be an outside cat, but she's acclimating to inside life with some time out on the lanai and a lot of playtoys. She's full of personality and very smart!
"Rosie Cheeks":
After her re-christening to Zelda:
#39, complete!
Anyway, my only concern was that our big move was still months away, leaving an uncomfortable amount of time for someone else to snatch up my lovely cat.
So I waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Then WE FINALLY MOVED.
And I waited a little more.
The very day that we had enough money to adopt her (or rather, the very day that our student loan refund checks came in), I marched into Petco for the adoption event and slammed my donation check for the adoption down on the table.
"I'm here for THAT CAT!" I announced, pointing at "Rosie Cheeks" the calico.
Unfortunately for me (and her), they had kept her in a cat carrier for much too long and she had made quite a excremental mess of herself. When I finally got to meet her, she was wet, extremely unhappy, and smelled less than great. I loved her anyway, and her restraint in not clawing me to death in her bedraggled state was definitely to her credit. I arranged to pick her up from her foster mom the next day and practically pranced home in anticipation.
When Ricky and I drove back home with our new "fur baby" the next afternoon, she shed all over us in nervousness and perched on Ricky's shoulder like a parrot. It was awesome.
So here she is. She's settled in quite nicely in her new home--we think she used to be an outside cat, but she's acclimating to inside life with some time out on the lanai and a lot of playtoys. She's full of personality and very smart!
"Rosie Cheeks":
After her re-christening to Zelda:
#39, complete!
Did I mention that I think she is one gorgeous cat? Congratulations! My mom's comment..."She'll need to brush her a lot." lol
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