Did your pet choose you?

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
21

I had always wanted a mini-Dachshund and after my husband died, I was so ready for another beating heart in the house. I did a search for breeders in my area and ran across a picture of Lewis. (I wanted to share it with you, but apparently my photo hosting site is not a safe one.)

I had to go check out the kid in the photo. When I got to the breeder’s place, I realized there were about half a dozen beautiful puppies to choose from so decided I wouldn’t make my choice on looks alone. I knelt down to interact with the pups. The all carried on playing with one another in their pen. Except one. Lewis trotted right on over, sat down and looked me straight in the eye. I picked him up like an infant and tickled him a bit, playing with him in my arms. He thought this was great fun. I sat him in my lap and he promptly fell asleep.

Since then, the puppy grew up and now he’s got the Curtain Ear thing going on, with eyes that melt a heart.

He really did choose me as much as I chose him. It remains a precious, delightful partnership and I hope with great fervor that it lasts for a long, long time. He’s snoozing happily at my side as I write this, as he has for the past 8 ½ years.

22

When the two old ladies came to our place with a litter of three kittens we had already tentatively chosen the one with tiger stripes from the internet pictures. But when we opened the box only Jay-z, the calico cat, jumped out to play with us and explore around. She definitely was intent on moving in, so she stayed.

23

I found Hazelnut (the black one) on the side of the highway a year or so ago. She was starved and covered in ticks, so I took her home to rehab and rehome her, because we already had three dogs and didn’t particularly need another.

The re-home part didn’t work out, because she’s the most loyal dog ever. She follows me everywhere, and I think it would break her heart too much if I let her go. So, hey, four dogs is normal, right? Also the little dog sitting on her is her BFF, so we can’t break up that duo.

All our dogs are rescues, but Hazelnut is the one most determined to stick. (Not that the others are going anywhere.)

24

That picture is totally adorable!

25

Back around 1992 after I’d been in my house a little bit, my big ginger cat died while I was on vacation (we’d never liked each other, I’d taken her because a friend couldn’t keep her). After a while, my bud needed a friend and I went to the AHS to see what they had. Well, there were a number of rooms there with tons of cats in each, and a spiral stand kind of thing in the middle. Bertie jumped off and wrapped herself around my head. Dang, but I was thick. I put her down and walked through the other rooms, still looking.

She did it again.

I walked out to the register with her on my shoulders and said “I guess she chose me”.

26

A couple of years ago I was on my way out the door when I was accosted by a tortoiseshell cat who indicated that some food would be appreciated. I fed her and went on my way. She continued to visit, and was friendly, but didn’t seem interested in staying and we were full up with cats anyway. She appeared healthy, and we really thought she must belong to someone. I put a collar on her, with a note attached, in hopes that someone would call and say, “Yeah, she’s ours, don’t let her fool you.” No call, and then one day my husband discovered to his horror that she was declawed. At that point I put in a call to my mother strongly suggesting she was in need of a cat. My mom stopped by, and kitty went into full tap-dancing and singing show tunes mode.

Her name is Sally now. My mom’s theory was that she was an old person’s cat, and that’s what she was holding out for.

27

Most of my cats have. All the cats I’ve had for the last 30 years* came to me via my son, who is a cat magnet. He is now living elsewhere with his wife, two kids, and some cats. Three of them I believe.

*This is actually only three cats, and the last of them is still here.

My dogs, no. Well maybe they summoned me with their cuteness. Somehow.

28

My sister had decided that she wanted a Dalmatian, and considered it too big a commitment for one person. We’d always lived in each other’s pockets and since we lived only blocks from each other, she explained her ‘share’ plan. Because she could take a dog to work, she would take it in the daytime, and I would have it at night. Weekends didn’t matter because we were always with each other anyway.

I was fairly dubious, and not in the market for a dog (let alone a pup!) but because she she was my sister, best friend, and wanted one so desperately I agreed. With a few provisos: we bought from a breeder, strictly female, black not liver, and she was to be lightly spotted.

For months we checked out breeders. Some kosher, others running some heartbreaking puppy farms (a trap for young players). We’d find that the parents or past litters were too spotty, or that there were only males available. (Dalmatians are born white, and don’t get mostly all their spots until they’re about two years old. Amazing how it starts with just one black hair…!)

It was in the days of pet shops being able to sell pups, and one day my sister came over, all breathless. She’d seen a litter in a pet shop half-an-hour away and I had to go and see them. I mentioned the ‘breeder only’ “rule” and, quite rightly, she pointed out that we hadn’t had much luck with them so far and that it wouldn’t hurt to go and have a look. (Famous last words.)

On the way I told her that the breeder rule might’ve been bent, but the ‘female only’ wouldn’t be.

It was a litter of 7 eight-week-old pups. Photos of the parents showed them to both be lightly spotted. Six males, one female. I was about to crouch down to have a better look and one of them made a yelpy squealy beeline for me and practically leapt into my arms as if a long-lost friend had finally showed up. I picked it up. It was the female. That was it. I’d been picked.

I had my beautiful, lightly spotted, ghost face girl for 17 years. My sister’s and my relationship exploded into oblivion in a spectacular manner about two years later and I had to take full responsibility for the dog. (“She doesn’t fit my lifestyle anymore” was the unbelievable reason I was given.)

Best thing that ever happened to me. I changed my career so she could be with me all the time. Not a day went by in all those years that my beloved *Spotty didn’t make me laugh out loud, anchor me to this world, and have me eternally grateful for the love and incredible connection between us. This April will mark four years since she’s been gone and even writing this makes me cry. Like my sister, I’ll miss her every day of my life.

*I know. She picked it herself. The clown.

29

No, I chose my Nathan, from the shelter. But I think we were meant for each other.

30

Warning! This is a horror story that end’s out pretty good.

Much of my family lives in rural Alabama. My brother said, “I can’t believe it! Someone dropped off four kittens on my porch!” We live less than a quarter-mile apart.

I said, “Really?----No, they didn’t. Someone dropped them off at the stream below your house along with the mother cat. I was on a walk. You know the stray dog that people have been feeding? He attacked the mother cat and the kittens scattered into the woods. I thought they were surely gone for good.”

So those four kittens made their way to my brother’s porch. One of them was blind in one eye. He was killed by a neighbor dog. My brother fed the remaining cats into young adulthood. But he vowed he couldn’t have another indoor cat. One was enough. My partner found a home 2 hours away for the sweetest kitten.

It was 7 months later and it was time to get the last 2 girls fixed. My brother works at night. So I volunteered to take them to the local outreach spay/neuter clinic. They perform surgeries cheap.

Wouldn’t you know it; that night Alabama had a very-infrequent ice storm. The two remaining kittens had to be locked indoors because they had just had surgery. Both kittens were howling to get out. So I took them out the next day.

There was ice everywhere on the ground, but I let them scamper around my brother’s house. When it came time to call them in from the cold, only the manx would come. I spent hours looking for the other girl. She felt abandoned and neglected.

After finding the little girl, I re-united her with her sister inside. I thought my participation was over. The ice storm had passed. These kittens would be my brother’s outdoor cats.

Tiny made her way to my house every day for the next few months. Finally, I asked my partner could she come in. We have two other cats that he rescued. He said yes. That Tiny cat has been mine ever since.

My brother’s indoor cat died within days of me letting Tiny in our house. My brother let the manx into his house.—weird how two cats can be from the same mom with different dads. The manx is so layed-back but Tiny is so adorably neurotic.

31

My middle dog child came to me via my son, so it was really he that was the chosen one. He and a friend had attended a concert and upon leaving they saw a black dog trailing a broken rope tied around its neck that was dashing through the parking lot being narrowly missed by departing cars. The moment my son opened his car door, the dog ran right over and jumped into the car, ready for a ride. My son lived in a no pet apartment at the time, so he brought her over to me to keep overnight until he could search for her owner (we assumed she had one due to her being in excellent condition). Next day’s trip to our vet showed she didn’t have a chip and calls to the various local shelters yielded no missing dog reports. Still it was early, so we decided to wait a few days and try again. During these days, in her quiet way she adopted me. Never obtrusive, she was simply always there with me. She would quietly wait until my boisterous male dog had greeted me, then she would take the spot next to my right leg where she would remain until some item of doggie interest would engage her.

After 10 days and due diligence done, it was clear she was staying. I took her for shots and neutering and even the vet noticed how deeply she had bonded with me. Her eyes never left me, even when the staff came in to give her some friendly scritches.

She was about 16 months when she came and is 8 years old now. She is always next to me, often with her head on my lap. Her eyes still never leave me.

32

One of my childhood dogs chose my mom. This was back in the 90s when pet stores were still in malls.

They were in the mall one day when I was in the first grade and as they passed a pet store my mom spotted a cute little tri-colored puppy sitting up watching her through the glass as its litter mates slept behind it. My mom dragged my dad over to the pet shop, where he, too, fell in love with the “puppy in the window”.

They brought her with them we they picked me up from school and, being obsessed with The Lion King at that time, I named her Nala. She lived eleven wonderful years with us.
http://s426.photobucket.com/user/QuantrillRaider_album/media/000_0024-2.jpg.html?o=99

Mysti was another dog that chose me. I was on-again-off-again volunteering at a humane society in a neighboring town that was run by a bunch of catty middle aged women. If you weren’t part of their inner circle or didn’t donate $$$ to the “cause” you were treated badly. She was brought to the shelter in late November 2014 looking like a coyote with mange. Her coat was dull, scruffy and she had this wild look in her eyes.

A rancher claims he found her and her puppies wandering on his land. The shelter weaned the puppies, fixed Mysti, got her UTD on shots, and put her and her puppies up for adoption. The puppies went fast, but Mysti just sat there for months. They had her listed as a “Border Collie mix” and, being interested in the breed, decided to try and walk her. She bonded to me instantly, I mean this dog glued herself to me and ignored all other people, even if it didn’t help HER. The day she attempted to climb a chain link fence to get to me I decided to adopt her.
https://www.flickr.com/photos/99746822@N03/23896971140/in/dateposted/

33

I went to look at a litter of Papillon puppies. They were all out running in a HUGE yard, and the breeder called them. All 5 came running down the hill. 4 ran to the breeder and 1 ran to me and plopped her butt down on my foot and began tugging on my shoelace. She refused to leave me. So she didn’t. She came home with me and that’s how I got Bunny!

34

Ivylad and I came back from running errands. As we do, we let the dogs out into the backyard so we could bring groceries in the house through the garage without them escaping.

Buck (now deceased) and Rebel were by the back gate, going absolutely bonkers. I looked around to see what the hell was setting them off and saw a tiny tortoise-shell kitten.

It turned out Ivylad, who doesn’t care for cats, and Ivyboy had fed this little thing last week. It came back, looking even scrawnier.

It marches in through the open garage door and into the kitchen. We decide to keep it over the long weekend and take it to the no-kill shelter on Monday.

That evening, he hopped up on Ivylad’s lap, curled up, and purred for three hours straight. It’s like it knew…THIS is the one I have to convince.

Sunday we’re at Target, buying cat food and cat litter and cat toys and a cat box.

We named him Rary. It’s short for Temporary.

35

Yes.

Full disclosure: Creamsicle chose us. We chose Tonka.

36

Molly flagged me down.

Our second cat ever, many years ago, was sleeping on the doormat one morning. Found her when I left for work.

37

Thanks! Here’s the reverse seating arrangement. :D

38

We were asked to foster a dog temporarily - as in, none of the usual foster families were able to take in a new dog at the time this one needed shelter, but that situation would be changing in a few days, so could we fill in until then?

We went to pick Roman up and he glommed onto me immediately. And never left. He’s the ‘roman’ in my name, and I was his person from that day forward.

39

I went to the pound. Was walking around and there was this huge akita-shepherd mix. She wasn’t barking but just standing in the pen looking at me. I said ‘sit’. She sat. I turned to the keeper and said, “I’ll take her.”

When I took her to the vet to get her dewclaws removed, and treated for kennel cough and get her rabies shots, the vet said, “I’ve never seen a dog more bonded to her owner. How long have you had her?” Me: “Three days.”

She was an absolutely beautiful dog. People used to try to buy her from me, and teen age boys would yell out “That’s a great looking dog!”

In the end she died of cancer. But it was a good ten years.

40

I used to feel sad when I outlived my cats. Now that I’m old, I worry what will happen to my cats if I die first…