Molly the Adventure Dog
I was a stray who ended up at a humane society. Not long afterwards, my girl started volunteering there, and we sort of fell in love with each other. She brought me home in October 2010 and we’ve been besties ever since!
It’s my job to hold down the other end of the sofa while my girl writes her books. Or to snore under her desk. I’m good at that. Whenever we can, my girl and I go hiking, biking, kayaking, and camping together. We’re unstoppable!
P.S., buy my girl’s books so she can bring home more treats for me.
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Fergus the House Demon
Also, I am plotting your murder. And yours, and yours, and yours …
My mama was a feral cat who abandoned me as a baby because I was very sick. A human found me and brought me to the shelter. My earliest memories are of being scruffed and medicated, and I quickly decided that humans and their hands were nasty. (Hence why I am plotting your murder.)
Then when I was six months old, THE Human walked into the shelter and told the staff, “I want a crabby cat, extra points if it’s black.” They were stunned, but introduced her to me. She took me home, and I quickly realized she knew exactly what to do with a crabby kitty. She ignored me for a month straight, until one night, she woke up to the sound of something soft and fuzzy purring beside her ear. It was me, all curled up next to her, the happiest I’ve ever been in my life.
I guess I kind of like her.
Also, I am a connoisseur of fine wine. Don’t leave glasses unattended. And I am still plotting your murder.
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Furkids Gone By
Angus the Retired Ranch Hand
Howdy. Name’s Angus. Many years ago, I took a hankerin’ to wander, and ended up on a ranch in North Dakota. The proprietors were a real sweet old couple. I took a shine to them and decided to set up housekeeping in their barn. They called me Angus, after Black Angus cows, even though I was a little cowgirl–and had a kitten to prove it. (His name is Jack.)
One day, they retired to town, and took me with them. It was winter, and I learned right quick how easy it was to become an indoor cat. But I never did lose my love of the outdoors.
One day, the old man died. I was real broke up about it. Left for two months. (They think maybe I went back to the ranch to look for him, but I never told.) Later, the old gal decided to move into assisted living. I ended up moving in with a friend of theirs, a young filly named Danielle.
Gosh, that little gal loved me. She took real good care of me, right up to the end. Eventually, my age caught up to me. When I crossed the Rainbow Bridge, that little gal swore she was going to have a long string of crabby black cats and name them Angus, Fergus, Seamus … I guess she’s actually followin’ through with that idea. I’m right tickled.
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Juliean the Superior Cat
My name is Juliean. I was once a stray no one wanted. Perhaps because I’m a feline who knows my mind and calls things the way I see them. For instance, I hate cats. I lived at a shelter for two years–in a room with twenty other cats–and was miserable out of my wits.
My human turned out to be unusually perceptive. She understood that I felt insecure because my previous humans had taken my claws away. She made the other cats give me a lot of space. I appreciated that–and I actually started to purr again. Also, she snacked on granola bars and let me play with the wrappers. OMG, I loved those wrappers.
My human brought me home because no one in their right mind would adopt me–I was that crabby. But I LOVED the outdoors. Loved them so much, the human bought me a jacket so I could go out in winter, and a rain slicker so I could go out in the rain, and a sweater that matched the dog’s.
One day, I didn’t come home. The human looked for me everywhere, hung posters and visited the shelter, but I was gone for good. I know she feels bad about that. But I try to let her know that I was doing my absolute favorite thing–exploring the outdoors.