Jay Boogie's Story

Pet's name: Jay Boogie
Adopted by: Josh and Kristin
From: Lollypop Farm, Humane Society of Greater Rochester, Fairport, N.Y.

When Kristin and her boyfriend (now husband) adopted their first dog, they named him after a dear friend of Kristin's whom she had lost.

2006 was a year of unplanned, life-changing events for me, a rollercoaster of emotions and relationships. In May that year, I lost my best friend to suicide, leaving me empty, angry, and feeling utterly alone. When I met Jason six years earlier, there was that instant spark where two souls connect instantly, creating a bond of a lifetime, or so I had thought. He was my voice of reason, the expert on relationships, and one of the few people who truly understood who I was. He was the very definition of a best friend who was always looking out for me.

And that's why it hit me so hard that morning in May right before the Memorial Day holiday weekend. The phone call with the unexpected news brought a surge of emotions, questions, and some soul-searching. I had lost one of the closest people to me and suddenly had a huge void in my life. Ultimately, I found the strength inside to be positive every day, to try to enjoy the beauty of life that my friend had refused to see, and to promise that I would not let a tragedy direct my path in life.

So I hit the reset button and focused on moving forward. A few months later I started dating a guy I had met online and we were instantly inseparable. Our relationship progressed and one night, the talk about owning a dog came up.

To be honest, I didn't take the conversation seriously as we were celebrating at a friend's wedding, and as my head hit the pillow that evening I murmured to my boyfriend, "Sure, we can go to the animal shelter tomorrow morning to look at dogs." The next morning, I woke up to the excitement similar to a child on Christmas morning waiting to go downstairs to open presents. Only that morning it was my boyfriend reminding me of my promise I had made a few hours earlier and informing me when the shelter opened. I'm one to stick to my word and I thought I would at least humor him by going to look.

We were some of the first to arrive at Lollypop that Sunday morning in October. We walked together up and down the kennels, silently making mental notes of what dog seemed to suit us best. At the end of the hallway of kennels, we turned to each other and asked which of the dogs we were most interested in. We both had fallen in love with the same rottweiler mix puppy called Bam-Bam. Looking behind the wire cage, we had felt the same bond with this then-tiny ball of fur. It was his first day available for adoption and at eight weeks old he was a red-haired brindle puppy with floppy ears and monster paws. “You know he's going to get big, right?” my boyfriend said as we filled out the paperwork to visit with the puppy. Having grown up with a bichon frise, I thought, "What's big—50 pounds? No problem!"

"We can call him Jay—after your best friend," said my boyfriend, who had never met him, but knew what his friendship had meant. The tears welled up in my eyes and I knew that while I had lost a best friend earlier in the year, I was gaining a canine best friend that day (and that my boyfriend was a keeper).

A lot of people ask where Boogie came along in his name. That's his personality—he just boogies all over. I once caught him tap dancing in the bathtub. One day I came home early for lunch, and as soon as I walked into the bathroom, his red head poked out from behind the shower curtain, eyes large as if I caught him eating a piece of cake, with a look of panic that I had just witnessed an embarrassing moment for him. He has so much zest for life and pleasing people that you can't help but love him, all 98 pounds that he's grown into. I remember the first time we took him to the park during winter and he discovered ice. Jay would run and slide across patches of ice, seemingly delighted with this new-found pleasure.

One of the things I love most about him is that he loves educational programming on TV—seriously. Obviously he loves anything dog-related (even dog cartoons like Scooby-Doo), but he'll glue himself in front of the screen when the Travel Channel is on as if he's daydreaming about running along the beaches chasing the surf.

Turns out that he's a Rhodesian ridgeback mix (with a bit of pit bull), but don't tell him because he's convinced he can fit on your lap and be your couch potato partner. He may look intimidating with his tall stature, large head, and powerful (wagging) tail, but inside is a personality that reminds me so much of his namesake.

Animals can have such a profound impact on our lives, filling places in our hearts with such joy. Jay Boogie brings a smile to my face every day with his goofy persona and the loyalty that drives him to stay attached to our sides, reminding us that he loves us just as much as we love him.  And that I have a best friend again at my side.

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If you adopted a pet from a shelter or rescue group and you'd like to share his or her story, please email me. I'd love to hear from you!

Brady's Story

Pet's name: Brady
Adopted by: Erin
From: Desoto County Animal Shelter, Nesbit, Miss.

Erin, who blogs at The Spiffy Cookie, sent the story of Brady, whom she adopted as a kitten.  

Growing up, my family had all kinds of pets: dwarf bunnies, cats, a ferret, a cockatoo, fish, guinea pigs, and even mice. But the cats were always my favorite. They would cuddle up with you while you read or when you went to bed and seemed much more appreciative of your existence than a fish. But when I went away for college, obviously I couldn't have cats in my tiny dorm room. Even when I finally moved off-campus I couldn't have one because the apartment complex wouldn't allow pets. Therefore when I moved into my first pet-friendly apartment in graduate school, I began to feel the itch for a pet.

I had heard of a website called Petfinder.com and decided to take a dive into their database of cats up for adoption in my area, and ended up with more than just a few windows open on my computer screen. Somehow I managed to narrow it down to one kitten, which required filling out a very long adoption survey. I had no qualms about completing the survey because they just wanted to make sure the kitten would be going to a good home and that I understood what it meant to take care of it. However, when I began the two-week-long wait to find out if they would accept my request, I found myself back on Petfinder.com, searching just in case I didn't get approved. (I did get approved but had already adopted Brady.)

It should come as no surprise that I found another kitten. But when I contacted the Desoto County Animal Shelter where the little one resided, I was informed that he had already been adopted. BUT! They had just received a new litter of kittens and attached a photo:

Brady (left) as a kitten

I died from cuteness overload and told them I would come there directly after work. Once I arrived, I spent at least 30 minutes letting them crawl all over me. I wanted to take all three home but knew I couldn't. (My apartment had a two-pet rule and my roommate at the time already had a toy fox terrier.) After a very difficult decision I decided on the gray tuxedo, because he spent the most time in my lap. And it was no fluke! He was the cuddliest kitten I have ever known. Frequently while studying he would crawl up and perch on my shoulder, inevitably falling asleep. Much to his dismay he is too big for that now, but he has retained his desire to cuddle into adulthood. He also got along great with the toy fox terrier and they would play all the time. Unfortunately we no longer live with his playmate's owner. Maybe one day I will find myself back on Petfinder.com.

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If you adopted a pet from a shelter or rescue group and you'd like to share his or her story, please email me. I'd love to hear from you!

Gabbie's Story

Pet's name: Gabbie
Adopted by: Lee Ann
From: Nevada Humane Society, Reno, Nev.

Lee Ann, who blogs at Lee Ann's Road to Reno, shared Gabbie's story: 

The photo of Gabbie is at three months, the day that I adopted her. She has been healing my heart since I adopted her in November. The story goes like this:  In November I moved from Wisconsin to Reno, Nevada. Many traumatic events occurred prior to my move. My husband passed away very suddenly of cancer, my beloved dog Peaches died, I closed my massage therapy business after 10 years, I sold my home and was offered an opportunity in Reno for a new position of working as a color, light, and sound therapist.

One day I received "a message" to go to the Reno Humane Society to simply get a feel for a cat. I walked into the lobby, and there was a man sitting there with a cardboard box on his lap and he said "Hi, are you looking for a cat by any chance?" I said "possibly." I sat down next to him and he told me the story about he and his wife adopting two cats right away and the two weren't getting along, so they decided to bring one of them back. This nice man was really upset about bringing Gabbie back as he had already formed an attachment to her. He opened the box and out popped a little grey head and a "mew," and the rest is history.

An interesting adjunct to this story is that I sent my sister a photo and an email about my new family member and she couldn't believe what she was reading. Her grandson (my great nephew), who is three years old, had been walking around for two weeks saying "Gabbie, Gabbie, Gabbie" and no one could figure out why he was repeating this. Well, children are very perceptive aren't they? He knew, somehow, at some level, that there was going to be a Gabbie in the family. I love to tell this story because it tells of our connection to each other.

So Gabbie is now eight months old and is an awesome companion. She is waiting at the door when I get home from work and loves to lie in my lap. She is very talkative and expressive and is a joy in my life.

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If you adopted a pet from a shelter or rescue group and you'd like to share his or her story, please email me. I'd love to hear from you!

Boo and Sophia's Stories

Pets' names: Boo and Sophia
Adopted by: Lindsey
From: Sumter Humane Society, Americus, Ga.

Lindsey, who blogs at Cardio Pizza, sent the story of her two dogs, Boo and Sophia. They came into her life separately but are now best friends.

For as long as I can remember I've been an animal lover. I've always been an extremely sensitive person, but I'm especially sensitive to animals. I believe it's in my nature to love animals, but I also grew up around them. We always had a family dog and I don't know what it's like to not live with one! When our first dog Perry died, it was only a few months before we got Alex. It's just so lonely without an animal. While no animal can replace another, they love they share is like nothing else in this world, and I believe that they live such short lives because they come into this world with more love and compassion than any human is capable of. They don't need as much time as most of us do to learn the lessons we need to here!

In 2009 I moved from Ohio to Georgia for a job. I moved completely by myself so I knew that I needed a roommate. And I knew my roommate would come in the form of a dog! After just a few short days of living in the small town of Americus, Ga., I headed to the local Sumter Humane Society to pick out a dog. There were so many dogs and cats that it was overwhelming. As much as I wish I could adopt every single animal in that place, I realistically knew that I could only adopt one. The dogs were so excited to see me, just as I was excited to see them. But one dog looked calm and caught my attention with his one blue eye and one brown eye. I knew this was my dog.

Boo, who was named by the staff, was estimated to be about two years old. He was picked up by someone who saw him on a country road. He was at the humane society for about two weeks before I adopted him. When I took him home he was scared, but he soon warmed up. His personality came out as well. Gone was the calm dog and out was the wild and energetic dog that I know today.  

Boo and I were just getting used to one another when Sophia joined the family. I never planned to have two dogs, but sometimes life isn't how we plan. One morning before work I went to the gas station to fill my car up. Roaming around the station was a cute black-and-white dog. I had cereal in my purse in a baggie and offered some to the pup to see if she would come to me. She did and gobbled the food right up! Her tail was wagging and I could sense she was friendly. I asked the gas station attendant if this was anyone’s dog and she said no and that she had seen the dog here the past couple of days. I then asked the attendant that worked there to help me put the dog in my car and I offered to take her to the vet, where they could keep her for a few days. 

After a few days I checked in to see if anyone had claimed her and they hadn’t. The vet asked if I'd take her to the humane society, so I did. I came up with a name for her and called her Sophia after my favorite character on "The Golden Girls." I had a feeling since I had named her that she would ultimately be mine, but I wanted to make sure she wasn't someone's dog who was lost. Well, after three weeks no one claimed her. I went right to the shelter and picked her up and took her home. Sophia officially joined the family! 

Boo and Sophia became fast buddies. Now, they are inseparable and enjoy playing day-in and day-out. They both are obsessed with chasing squirrels and bunnies, going for walks, and eating treats. They are happy dogs and they have no idea how happy they make me! I feel so blessed to have these two pups in my life.

Adopting my dogs was one of the best decisions I have made. There are so many animals in need of homes and I encourage anyone who is looking to become a pet owner to adopt one. The love and joy they bring into a home is like nothing else imaginable. 

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If you adopted a pet from a shelter or rescue group and you'd like to share his or her story, please email me. I'd love to hear from you!

Lilly's Story

Pet's name: Lilly
Adopted by: Kelsie Fennell
From: Oktibehha County Humane Society, Starkville, Miss.

Kelsie, who blogs at The Overflow, shared this story of her cat Lilly.

As a little girl growing up in the country, I have been the mommy to a wide variety of pets. We've had several dogs that were very dear to my heart, cats, rabbits, an abandoned baby deer, ducks, and for a short period of time—a baby raccoon. I don't remember a time that I didn't open the back door to the warm greeting of puppy paws or a cat's affection. And then ... I went to college. *sigh* Obviously I didn't have the space or time to provide for a pet. For five years I browsed the "Our Animals" section of the Oktibehha County Humane Society webpage, admiring their little angels and dreaming of the day I could make one of them mine. This fall, I moved into a one-bedroom apartment and the time was right to finally bring home the perfect pet. I went to visit the shelter one afternoon in October, and immediately fell in love with an 8-week old black-and-white Maine Coon kitten.

She has been home with me since that day, and what a joy it has been to watch her grow. She has been a great companion over the past six months, and it is just a treat to come home to her excitement and fun every afternoon. She's full of energy, and has some funny little quirks. If the sink is running anywhere in the house, she's in it. If the bathtub is draining, she's perched on the side of tub watching it. She plays in her water bowl. She plays in the fish bowl (but doesn't bother the fish). She "talks" about 95% of the hours that she is awake. If you aren't quite sure what I am talking about, check out a few YouTube videos and you'll understand.

Adopting sweet Lilly was one of the best decisions that I have made in years. She has brought so much to my life and my little home, and knowing that I can provide her with love and care each day is so rewarding. She's my companion. She's my friend. She loves me every day, no matter what. She is sitting on my pillow each and every morning to tell me the sun is up. Please, consider adopting your next pet. Knowing you made a difference is so worthwhile. And Lilly will thank you.

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If you adopted a pet from a shelter or rescue group and you'd like to share his or her story, please email me. I'd love to hear from you!

Tallulah's Story

Pet's name: Tallulah
Adopted by: Andrew Vail
From: Toronto Humane Society, Toronto, Ontario, Canada

Andrew's tribute to his cat Tallulah, who recently passed away, originally appeared on his blog, Unvailed. 

My cat died today. She was my companion for 16 years. She lived with me through some of the best moments of my life and some of the worst. Family came and went. Friends and came and went. Partners came and went; yet through it all, there she was, loyal, loving and at my side; purring, playing and napping—as cats do. She was my little furry touchstone as I went from one stage of my life to the next. When the dust settled it was she and me.

Her name was Tallulah (named for a lyric in a Tori Amos song, in case you were wondering). I adopted her from the Toronto Humane Society in 1996. She was a bit of an anomalous adoption because she was an adult and typically people go for the cute and cuddly kittens when on the prowl for a pet. I could say that I chose her, but anyone who has adopted an animal knows that they choose you.

I remember spending two days at the THS looking for just the right cat. It was mind-boggling as there are typically hundreds of cats and kittens looking for a home. Sadly, many won't find one. Tallulah happened to me on the second day of my search. She sidled up to the front of the cage and just locked eyes with me. She purred so loud I thought she could be heard over every other creature there. I'd never heard a purr so loud. Maybe it was just loud to me because she decided I was her new human.

And so began an odyssey between man and feline that would last over 16 years: There were plenty of funny—and bizarre—times like when she went on one of her morning sojourns around the apartment and at top speed, bouncing off walls and furniture—as cats do. This time she miscalculated the contents of my claw-toed bathtub and nose-dived into four feet of water. She launched back out like a guided missile and tore under the bed. Cowed for a cat, she glared at me with a mix of peevishness and humiliation as I laughed hysterically at her soaked self.

Then there was the time—not long after I brought her home from the THS—that she went into heat. I didn't realize that she'd gone "seasonal" as I hadn't had a cat since I was a wee child and didn't know the signs. I was soon to learn. I awoke from a deep sleep in the middle of one hot summer night to the demonic yowl of a voice calling my name, sort of. "Meeeaaannddrrooooo" was being caterwauled through the apartment. I sat up in bed, half awake, listening to this nocturnal sonata thinking to myself, "Wow, how cool, my cat can talk and she knows my name."

Tallulah used to love to climb on my back and stretch out from shoulder to shank while I lie on the floor watching TV. She had a sonorous purr that would make me fight to stay awake. Her purr was so soothing and familiar. In times of stress or strife, I'd pull her up on my chest and pet her as she purred, her vibrations giving me a sense of calm and peace. That was one of the incredible things about this little "hollow kitty" as she was called: she had a purr that could register on the Richter scale.

In the last year of her life, Tallulah became very tiny and frail. She struggled to eat and keep food down from time to time, but she was not to be taken by death just yet. When it seemed like she was about to give in, she would rally and show vestiges of the girl I knew for 16 years. Finally, she just couldn't win her battle against the inevitable; she was, after all, 19 years old.

As anyone who has lived with an animal companion knows, making the decision to euthanize him or her is incredibly heart wrenching. You don't know if you're doing it too soon or too late. You are racked with thoughts of "too soon," "am I making the right decision" and all of the other ambiguities that go along with the responsibility of ending another creature's life. As much as it broke my heart, I knew that Tallulah was ready. She was not enjoying her life, she was struggling. I did not want my friend to suffer. I had to hold her and send her on her way.

Here's to you, the feisty bundle of fur that brought so much laughter, comfort, and companionship to my life. Tallulah, I hope I gave you as much as you gave me.

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If you adopted a pet from a shelter or rescue group and you'd like to share his or her story, please email me. I'd love to hear from you!

Baozi's Story

Pet's name: Baozi (包子)
Adopted by: Amandeep and Kimberly
From: San Francisco SPCA, San Francisco, Calif.

Amandeep, who blogs at 'Deep Trouble, sent this story of his new puppy Baozi (which means "little stuffed bun" in Mandarin) and shared her tale on his own blog, too.

Ever since I was a young boy, I've wanted a dog.^* Growing up, my mom never allowed us to get one because she feared she'd be left to take care of it. In hindsight, I can understand, as my brother and I were plenty of work as it was.^**

My entire childhood was thus spent longing for a dog and getting all the B-list pets I could get my mom to sign off on. A menagerie of parakeets, fish, hermit crabs, snakes, lizards, toads, and jumping spiders paraded through our home, but none filled the void. (Many of these hapless creatures were captured from the woods near my house.)

As soon as I moved out on my own, I thought about getting a dog, but with adulthood came a dawning realization of how much work that would entail. I knew I wasn't quite ready. But still the idea persisted. Every friend's dog that I baby-sat tested my resolve. Every girlfriend I had was measured up as a potential puppy-mamma. Every "sidewalk-adopt-a-pet" event I passed on the street was a crisis.

Eventually, I realized that having a dog was doable, but given the unusually active life I lead, it would be hard to get a puppy and give it the time it needed. I began strategizing. Perhaps an older dog would be the best choice for me given my lifestyle and my various time commitments. Maybe I could pay for a dog-walking service? Eventually, I decided that I should wait till I lived with a girlfriend to truly give this a go, just to have somebody to split the responsibility with.

Early on in my relationship with Kimberly, my current girlfriend, we discussed our mutual love for dogs, and agreed that if we were to ever get a dog, it would be from the pound or from one of the many rescues we know of. There are simply so many dogs that need good homes and so many health issues with purebreds, that we knew we wanted to get a mutt. In this vein, I also tried to convince her that we should get an older dog, since they might have a harder time getting adopted. She was sympathetic, but was dead set on the "puppy experience."

As our relationship deepened, we kept coming back to the dog idea, but mostly to tease the other person by playing puppy brinksmanship:  One of us would dare the other to go with them to the SPCA that very day, implying that the other person was the sole impediment to doggy-happiness. The other person would inevitably be stuck, reluctantly having to play the role of "responsible adult," since they were the only defense against making a change we actually weren't ready for.

Finally, earlier this year, we decided to get married (!), and in talking about eventually having kids, the subject of a dog came up as well. Kimberly signed us up for "Puppy Owner Orientation" at the SPCA, and a few weeks back, we went. The class was thoughtful and informative and we left sobered at the sense of how much of a change a puppy would be, and how much responsibility and complication it would add to our lives. We really treasure the way our lives work now and wondered if we should gamble with our happiness. We talked about it and let the idea sit on the back burner.

Peter's Story

Pet's name: Peter
Adopted by: J'Carlin
From: Humane Society Silicon Valley, Milpitas, Calif.

J'Carlin shares the story of Peter, a stray who now has a loving home.

The frightened pup in the first picture was the morning after his first night home. He had pulled the quilt down from the couch and buried himself in it. He had selected "his mama" at the Humane Society of Silicon Valley. The rest of us were looking at less challenging candidates for the first family dog when the announcement came that "We were looking at Peter." He was a fresh stray at HSSV with no real history there and was not recommended. Not that I had any choice, but I had raised other pups and felt I could deal with a stray.

It turned out that he had been well socialized and housebroken, prior to becoming a stray, but despite ads all over the neighborhood no one claimed him. My guess is that his happy home was foreclosed and the new apartment refused animals. Perhaps they hoped a neighbor would take him in, but it was not to be.

He quickly learned all the social commands and adopted as his job to warn us from the top of the stairs when frequent visitors approached the door. He also learned to stay there so as not to frighten them. The second picture is Peter on station with his faithful and much-mended shark that helps him keep watch.

Advertised as a young adult Chihuahua mix, he ended up growing to twice the size and lost all resemblance to a Chihuahua. A great addition to the household even though breed guesses are all over the map.  

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If you adopted a pet from a shelter or rescue group and you'd like to share his or her story, please email me. I'd love to hear from you!

Benji's Story

Pet's name: Benji
Adopted by: Regan Landreth

From: SPCA of Texas, Dallas, Texas

Regan, who blogs at The Canary Diaries, sent this story of Benji, her Chihuahua/Dachshund mix. 

I was lucky enough to adopt Benji almost eight years ago. I was a college student with no idea of how being a dog owner could change your life for the better. I had grown up with several different pets, all of which were either rescued from shelters or wandered into our yard and stayed permanently.

Like many people who end up finding a fabulous pet, my then boyfriend (now husband) and I went into the SPCA to “look.” There were so very many dogs, as there are in so many shelters across the country. Benji’s cage was one of the first I went to. An owner who could no longer care for him surrendered him to the shelter. He had such sweet brown eyes and such a calm demeanor. I took him out of his cage and sat on the floor with him. He promptly curled up in my lap and looked up at me. I came to know this as his signature move later. He is a true lap dog. His name at the shelter was Barney, but he was already so serious looking that we wanted to give him a name that had a bit more spunk. I think even then we knew he had more to his personality than he let on.

At first, Benji was very timid. He would bark at everyone, and as he is a Chihuahua and Dachshund mix, he was very territorial of me. But gradually, as he got more accustomed to life with us, he became a little less serious and a little more joyful. He would carefully approach people and lean in for a pat on the head, endearing himself to pretty much anyone he met. Benji loves going for walks, wearing sweaters, snuggling, and playing fetch. He now has a brother and a sister and is a wonderful role model for both of them.

He is the greatest companion, the sweetest dog, and the truest friend. He has taught me responsibility, selflessness, and unconditional love. I say this a lot and my friends laugh, but it’s true, he is one of the best things that ever happened to me.

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If you adopted a pet from a shelter or rescue group and you'd like to share his or her story, please email me. I'd love to hear from you!

Fluffy and Notso Fluffy's Story

Notso sunning himself

Pets' names: Fluffy and Notso Fluffy
Adopted by: Wendy Scruton
From: Danbury Animal Welfare Society, Bethel, Conn.

Wendy, who blogs at Notso Kitty, sent the story of her two cats, whom she adopted together several years ago. 

My name is Wendy Scruton (née Casazza) and I currently live in Boston, Mass., with my two cats and dear husband Todd. I adopted Notso and Fluffy from the Danbury Animal Welfare Society (DAWS) when I was living in Poughkeepsie, N.Y.—many years before I met Todd. I adopted them from that shelter in particular because that is where my family adopted one of our family cats that was a favorite of mine from when I was little. I entered the shelter with the game plan of getting two cats—so they could keep each other company. I took my little sister with me; she's a genuinely stoic individual at times and will not cave to the adorableness of kittens. :) I was slightly afraid of walking out of the shelter with more than two cats, but my sister was there to keep me honest!

When we went into the shelter we first viewed the room of individual older cats. None of these seemed like a natural pair for each other. We decided to look at the kitten room—though my sister warned me that TWO would be my limit. No cute third kitten would be sneaking home with me. :( In any case, they had three cute pairs of kittens in the room. But once I saw Notso Fluffy's face and he nuzzled me I completely melted.... So did my sister! Our decision was clear. We filled out the adoption paperwork, paid the small fees for their shots and upcoming "fixing," and adopted both brothers. They came with the names "Pepe" (Fluffy) and "Romeo" (Notso Fluffy)—it was clear to me that these names weren't going to suit me (or them), but I wasn't sure what to call them.

Fluffy

Notso

A few weeks go by and a few patterns started to emerge. I kept calling the cats "the Fluffy one and the Not-so Fluffy one," so eventually I found it easy to name them Fluffy and Notso Fluffy (Notso for short). Fluffy was very bashful and afraid, skittish at the slightest noise or movement toward him. He spent many hours under my boxspring or hidden inside my bedroom closet. He'd climb my clothes and sit on top of the hangers ... the poor thing! I tried to socialize him by petting him whenever I could get hold of him.... He accepted this eventually and even grew to seek it out. But he is still to this day very fearful of strangers.

Notso on the other hand is quite the attention whore. He's always looking to be petted—usually trying to insert himself into scenarios he doesn't belong, like on top of the laptop or at the dinner table. He had his share of health problems starting when he was four—he had to have the "PU" surgery. It wasn't pretty—but he seems okay now. I feed him special food and he's a little fat because he likes it too much, but the vet says he's otherwise healthy, so all is well :) We have since moved to Boston, upon which I met my husband eight years ago! Crazy how time flies ... but we now happily live and work in the Bay State with our kitties

Myself, I am quite a cat fanatic. I decided a little while ago to devote my blog, my arts and crafts, and my spare time to all things cat! I started making cat hats—and using Notso and Fluffy as the models! I sell them on Etsy at the NotsoKittyShop. My most popular is the Princess Beatrice Cat hat so far, but I am constantly coming up with new things in my spare time. Fluffy especially loves his involvement! He has really come out of his shell thanks to cat hats. :)

Fluffy is ready for any royal wedding.

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If you adopted a pet from a shelter or rescue group and you'd like to share his or her story, please email me. I'd love to hear from you!

Ampersand's Story

Pet's name: Ampersand
Adopted by: Dani
From: Western Pennsylvania Humane Society, Pittsburgh, Pa.

I never meant to adopt any sort of animal. My home has always been full of critters that have found their way to me; mostly exotic pets that have been surrendered by friends who got in over their head and knew I could handle it (parrots, turtles, Vietnamese walking sticks, etc.). I certainly didn't need another mouth to feed. But when I went to the Western Pennsylvania Humane Society to say hi to the dogs and cats, I discovered bunnies.

I met a volunteer in the bunny room who was lovingly feeding and chatting with each rabbit, and I immediately fell in love with the species as a whole. He introduced me to one lovely bun, who at the time was named Baby, and told me a bit about rabbit care and the basics of living with a house rabbit. Baby went home with me that day and was re-christened Ampersand Umlaut LaRue. We've been roommates now for three years, and I couldn't imagine my life without her.

Rabbits end up in shelters by the hundreds every year simply because people don't realize that they require attention; more so than even some dogs and cats. A neglected bunny is an unhappy bunny, and not much fun to have in your house, so people abandon them. The rewards of taking the time to socialize and train an urban house rabbit are limitless. Ampersand has made me a tidier person (no more leaving clothes or books lying around), a more responsible person (fresh food, water, and daily snuggle-time is a must), and an all-around calmer, happier person.

Not a day goes by that I don't talk to somebody about the benefits and joys of having a house rabbit. I can't even really call what we did litter-box "training," because she immediately knew what the litter-box was for. No training necessary. Bunnies are much cleaner and quieter than cats and dogs, and snuggling is an evolutionary survival tactic for small critters that live in holes in the ground! They simply MUST be snuggled! When people visit my apartment I tell them to watch where they step because Ampersand is known to dash towards you in an attempt to cuddle your feet. She immediately assumes that if it's alive, it's her friend. Even Meatball the quail is buds with Ampersand, which is generally not normal quail behavior.

Ampersand hanging out with her friend Meatball, a quail

I recently began volunteering as a bunny buddy at the Western Pennsylvania Humane Society and I've made so many wonderful little furry friends. I can't express enough what a joy it is to have a rescue rabbit in your life! They're truly dedicated companions. Ampersand is always happy to see me, and she lights up my living room every day.

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If you adopted a pet from a shelter or rescue group and you'd like to share his or her story, please email me. I'd love to hear from you!

D'Angelo's Story

Pet's name: D'Angelo
Adopted by: Tina Smith
From: Greenville Humane Society, Greenville, S.C.

Tina, who blogs at Park Avenue Chihuahua, sent the story of D'Angelo, who came into her life unexpectedly one day.

It seemed like any other day. Little did I know I was destined to meet the love of my life that crisp October evening. I had thought about volunteering at the local humane society. I was going to do the dirty work that others didn't want to do (clean the cages and walk the dogs). I called the Greenville Humane Society and they told me that they would mail me some information about the next orientation. I checked my mailbox one day to find out that they mailed the orientation information about a day too late—the orientation had taken place the night before. I called and was assured that they would mail out more dates.

The next time I checked my mail box, I was shocked to see that the orientation was taking place that night. So much for advanced notice, I thought. I was tired and contemplated waiting for another date, but something kept nagging at me from the inside telling me that I really needed to go that night. So I went.

The orientation started with a discussion on what being a volunteer would entail and then we were to be taken on a tour of the facilities. It was time for us to tour the dog area. I walked in this big room to see cages and cages of excited, hopeful, and lonely dogs. I tried not to get attached to any particular one. I already had a dog. A six-year-old female Chihuahua to be exact. She was and still is my baby and the love of my life. She and I were just fine all by ourselves.

Just then I spotted this adorable black-and-tan Chihuahua out of the corner of my eye. He was so cute with his little red country bandana on. The thing that caught my eye the most was that he wasn't looking at anyone else on the tour (which was about 15 people) but me. He never took his eyes off me. It was like he knew, he knew I was destined to be his mommy. He was so hopeful as he stood on his hind legs and pawed at the cage. I walked over to him and our eyes met. I knew too. I knew by some divine power that he was to be mine. I kept rationalizing and talking myself out of it. I didn't need or want another dog, especially not a boy dog. Boy dogs mark all over everything and they like to hump things. I lived in an apartment. I couldn't afford another dog. And the list of excuses went on and on. But somehow I knew. I fell in love with him instantly.

I was assured that he would still be there when I finished the tour and that I could come back and visit him after it was all over. When the tour finished I returned to the dog cages but he wasn't there. I went into the lobby and saw a lady playing with him. I thought she was going to adopt him so I took it as a sign and headed for the door. But I couldn't leave, I just couldn't. I asked her if she was going to adopt him and she said, "no." She said that she was a worker and she would take turns letting a dog out of its cage so it could run around for a little while. I played with "Andy" (that was his name then—I changed it later) until the humane society closed.

I asked about his history. I was told that someone dropped him off at the humane society because they were moving and couldn't keep him inside. Really? He was seven pounds. How can you not keep a sweet little seven-pound dog inside your home? Then I was told that he was adopted out again and that he was returned a week later for reasons unknown. This poor little sweet dog had been tossed around like an old stuffed animal and discarded. Little did I know that it was God's plan all along. It was God's plan for me to find him, adopt him, and save his life.

I asked what time the humane society opened the next day—10 a.m., I was told. So I called my boss and asked if I could take my lunch break early. I took my friend and my little Chihuahua Patti Marie with me the next day. I wanted to make sure that they liked each other. Patti and "Andy" took to each other immediately. He loved her from the start and she seemed to like him too. We were told to take them to the courtyard and see how they did outside with each other. The courtyard was where the dogs were walked before they were brought back to their cages. As we walked around the courtyard I realized that I definitely wanted to adopt him.

I went inside to find a volunteer. As we headed back outside this poor little dog started to claw the tile on the floor. It was as if he were hanging on for dear life. He didn't want to leave me. He thought since we were going back outside that I was taking him back to his cage. It broke my heart and I adopted him on the spot. There was no way I was leaving him, not even for a minute. He curled up in my lap as we rode home and went sound asleep with such a peaceful look on his face. It was probably the best sleep he had had in months.

D'Angelo with Patti Marie

Once home, I knew I needed to change his name. Andy didn't suit him. As we walked around the grounds of the apartment community, I talked to him. I told him that he was an Angel. Then I said out loud "Angelo" and then finally "D'Angelo." That was his new name—D'Angelo—and he loved it. All I had to do was say it twice and he knew it was his new name. For a few weeks after I adopted him he seemed unsure of his new home. He didn't know if it was permanent or not. As crazy as it sounds, I talked to him. I told him that this was his forever home, that I loved him dearly, and that I would forevermore be his mommy. After that he knew I meant it.

Little did I know that October 14, 2005, would change my life forever. The crazy thing is that I got my Chihuahua Patti Marie on the exact same day six years earlier—October 14, 1999. It was destiny for sure. Almost seven years later, I can happily report that D'Angelo and Patti love each other more than words can express. Since then we rescued two more precious dogs, totaling four puppy dogs in all.

D'Angelo is the most precious, sweet, loving, and loyal dog anyone could ask for. He is truly a gift from God. He is my baby and the LOVE OF MY LIFE.

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If you adopted a pet from a shelter or rescue group and you'd like to share his or her story, please email me. I'd love to hear from you!

Gracie's Story

Pet's name: Gracie
Adopted by: Christine Zorn
From: The Marshmallow Foundation, Detroit Lakes, Minn.

Gracie's story originally appeared on Christine's blog, A Sugar & Spice Life.

For the past couple of months I've found myself searching Petfinder.com. ... For anyone who is unfamiliar with it, it's a great website to search for adoptable pets in your area. I don't know why (because I certainly didn't NEED another dog ... we have Ella), but I've been looking at the dogs, kind of waiting for a perfect match for our family to come along.

Casey had been staying with my parents for the last year, because he was having health issues and considering everything going on with Sam, it was just better for my mom to take care of him (he had always been with them quite a bit anyway, because they took him to the lake all the time) ... and we knew that Casey was near the end of his life. So, I would look at Petfinder now and then, thinking "this isn't a good idea" ... but I would look anyway. I'm a total sucker for dogs who need homes (thanks, mom and dad!). I had seen "Blondie" before ... thought she was cute, but I don't know why she didn't catch my attention more.

But then on Tuesday I really started looking at her, and I called the shelter. She sounded great ... friendly, about 24 lbs., good with kids and other pets, about 1.5 to 2 years old. It just so happened that my husband had Wednesday off, so we made the hour drive to look at her while Emily and Gabe were in school. (I didn't want them to know until this was a done deal.) When we got to the shelter and said we were there to look at Blondie the workers all said "Oh, she's a sweetie!" Good sign!

Gracie's Petfinder.com listing

We met her and fell in love. She was sweet, friendly, and tried to give Sam kisses. :) I already had the adoption application filled out so we turned it in and said we'd like to adopt her. They said everything looked good, but that they'd have to contact our vet and our references, so we'd probably hear back later in the afternoon and would be able to pick her up the next day. Well, we were about 3/4 of the way back home when they called and said we were approved! So when the kids got done with school I told them what I had done (they approved wholeheartedly!), and we went back to pick up our new little girl.

We decided to name her Gracie. She's such a sweet girl, and things are going better than I had hoped. Ella is a little bent out of shape. ... Gracie wants desperately to be friends with her and wants to play, but Ella isn't quite ready for that. I'm sure she'll warm up, though, because Ella is also a really friendly, playful, good-natured dog. They have similar personalities. We've had a few accidents in the house, but we had that happen when we first got Ella, too. The behavior "problems" we're having are really minor (like putting her feet up on the kitchen counter). ... Gracie is a really smart girl and I'm sure she'll catch on quickly ... she's still learning how everything works around here.

Gracie with Ella

I can't understand how someone could lose her and not want to get her back. She was in the pound and then in the shelter since October 6th. She's a happy, well-adjusted dog ... not to mention adorable! She's great with the kids, and has such a wonderful personality. We're lucky to have her!

I could go on about how great she is, but I've already gone on too long! I have my thoughts on what kind of mix she is, but do any of you have any ideas? We might have to get doggie DNA testing done just for fun!

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If you adopted a pet from a shelter or rescue group and you'd like to share his or her story, please email me. I'd love to hear from you!

Zelda and Mrs. Parker's Stories

Zelda and Mrs. Parker perched on the shower door

Pets' names: Zelda and Mrs. Parker
Adopted by: Leonore
From: Putnam Humane Society in Carmel, N.Y.

Leonore (who blogs at As a Linguist...) sent the stories of Zelda and Mrs. Parker, her two sister kitties. 

My first cat, Gomer Pyle, had come to me as a refugee from a friend who loved him but also loved her two Boxer dogs and didn't want him to be chased anymore. He was a goofy cat: crooked tail, overbite, and slightly crossed eyes. Then, a tumor required the amputation of his front left leg and shoulder, which didn't stop him from chasing his tail. Finally, after a fang extraction, his upper lip would often get caught on his lower fang, making him look like he was imitating Elvis' famous half-sneer half-seductive smile.

And oh, how I loved him! I had him with me for six years.

Gomer got sick one Friday in March 2010. He was better by Sunday, worse again on Monday, and put to sleep on Tuesday. His last moments were spent purring and pushing his head into my hand for the scratches he so loved.

I spent a week crying, another week feeling numb, and the next four months not wanting another cat. Then, I finally decided it was time. I was ready for a new cat—not just Replacement Gomer—and maybe even two so they wouldn't get lonely when I was at work.

One day at the end of June, after many false starts and falling in love about a thousand times, I knew I had found my new cats.

My boyfriend and I walked into the Putnam Humane Society to inquire about some foster cats I'd seen on their website. Before we even called the foster parents, however, I saw two small kittens in a corner cage. They were sisters, 10 weeks old, and had been brought in about two months earlier. They'd been found together in a garage alone with no sign of their mother. They were quite feral at first but had responded well to care and attention.

I was handed a tiny white kitten. She was the softest thing I've ever felt. She sniffed around a bit, and then settled into my arms, closed her eyes, and started purring. I scratched her head. She purred harder. I rubbed her belly. She squirmed and, still purring as loud as anything, she turned her head and gave me a little love bite on the arm. She had chosen me.

Her sister, a little brown tabby, was still in the cage. She was even smaller than her sister. She had been in her little kitty cave, watching the whole thing. She was taken out and held up. She immediately squirmed and let out a little squeak that melted my heart even more than it already was. Her sister would not be going anywhere without her.

I was hooked.

A week later, just before Independence Day, they came home with me. They've grown into beautiful, incredibly sweet cats who still love to snuggle with each other when they're not chasing and tussling. In some ways they are very similar: they aren't very talkative, but they both trill quite a bit and let out their little squeaky meows when they want cheese, their favorite snack. Both also like to be in the same room as I am, and they both are very playful. Neither of them have a mean bone in their bodies, and they never bite or swat at me or my boyfriend.

Snoozing under the futon

But they certainly have distinct personalities. Zelda is intensely curious about everything and often gets into mischief by jumping to the tops of doors or bookshelves, or exploring every nook and cranny of a room. She loves to drink out of the faucet and is always on the bathroom counter to watch me put on make-up. She's the one who knocks pens off my desk, or bats at the cursor on the screen when I'm working on the computer. And she loves to snuggle, often making herself comfortable on my lap or next to my head at night.

Mrs. Parker is still more skittish around too many people, but she is extremely playful and silly. Her favorite toy is her scratching post, which she beats up regularly. She doesn't like to be picked up but will snuggle and purr for hours if she's burrowed under a blanket with me. She's a chewer, and after losing two sweater belts to her gnawing, she is the reason I now have a latch on the closet door.

I'm still as smitten as can be with my girls and can't imagine my life without them.

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If you adopted a pet from a shelter or rescue group and you'd like to share his or her story, please email me. I'd love to hear from you!

Mr. Minchy Spampobello and Frances Serena's Stories: Part 2

Pets' names: Mr. Minchy Spampobello and Frances Serena
Adopted by: Kerry A. Barnes
From: Frances came from the Tompkins County SPCA in Ithaca, N.Y.; Minchy, bred by a "backyard breeder," came from a family who wasn't able to care for him.

Kerry (who blogs at Hamchuckles) sent the stories of her two dogs—Minchy's was posted on Sunday, and below is Part 2, Frances' tale.

Frances' story is a sad one, indeed. We believe she was a breeder at a puppy mill for her early years, then the mill sold her to the research lab at a local university. There, she was bred again and her embryos used for genetic testing. We don't believe she was harmed in any way or overtly mistreated at the lab; the biggest issue was that for the first three years of her life, this beautiful beagle was treated like an object, not a pet. Kept in a cage, never taught to play, known only by the serial number tattooed on the inside of her ear.

When her time was up in the lab, she was adopted out to a student. This young man (who named her Snoop) had her for exactly one month before he surrendered her to the SPCA. I happened to be in the intake shelter when he brought her in. His reason for giving her up? The little dog wasn't housetrained very well, scared of loud noises, and worst of all, wanted to be with him all the time.

I saw her as he brought her in, so confused that this boy she'd already learned to love was discarding her. I knew from the moment I saw her that she was meant to be mine. She spent five days in the intake shelter before I was able to have her meet Minchy to make sure they got along and then finally bring her to our house.

She also suffered from severe separation anxiety and howled so horribly that the woman who ran the intake shelter desk had a hard time hearing the phone. When Serena heard I was taking the loud little beagle home, she rolled her eyes and said, "Good luck! You won't have one minute of quiet with that dog." I wasn't worried, because I'd been taking the dog I'd named Frances out of her run in the intake shelter and up to my office with me for the past couple days. Once out of the actual shelter environment, she was quiet as a little mouse, content to just be near you. When I came into work on Monday after having taken Frances home over the weekend, I happily told Serena how good the little dog had been, and that we were naming her Frances Serena in her honor.

The day Frances came home

Frances had some issues beyond her separation anxiety. Her pelvic floor was weakened from all the litters she'd been forced to carry, and she also needed some reinforcement with her housetraining. She'd spent her entire life in a cage; she'd used the shredded newspaper in her cage as her bathroom. We'd heard that lab rescue dogs are easily overwhelmed by being outside. Having spent their lives in the confines of a space just a few feet square, suddenly being out in the wide open is frightening to them.

Again, my dog behaviorist friend helped us out. She told us to reward her with unusually wonderful treats when she "did her business" outside. She suggested bits of liver, stinky cheeses, premium treats. Nothing worked. My friend said it was time to bring out the big guns—baby food. She said baby food (the pureed meat kind) was the end-all, be-all of dog treats, the ultimate. This was proven to us when we offered both dogs a smear of pureed lamb on our finger and Minchy positively quaked in anticipation. Frances? Nothing.

We finally discovered that the ultimate motivator for her, the one thing that truly rang her bell was … dry kibble. Yep. The regular old dry dog food she ate every day. We had thought it was cute that she got so excited when we were filling her bowl and bringing her her meals. It made us kind of sad, however, to realize what that dry food meant to her. It was the only good thing she'd ever known in her life in the puppy mill and in the lab. She wasn't given treats or even scraps of people food. The only reward she ever got was a regular meal. To this day, six years after we adopted her, she still goes crazy over her dry food. She actually gets up on her back legs and does this sort of hop in front of you on your way to bringing the food to her, like a dolphin finning its way upright through the water.

Minchy and Frances

When we first brought her home, Frances was expressionless. She had shark eyes—doll eyes with no emotion behind them, the result of her going away inside herself so often in her previous life. One of the most rewarding things I've ever experienced in my life was watching those eyes slowly come to life. Watching her learn to trust, learn to play, to begin to find her personality and express it has been the most fulfilling thing I've ever seen.

It's also been wonderful to see how our dogs comfort each other. I remember reading a study that found that the presence of another animal was more soothing to a pet than even their human. Our two little separation anxiety survivors rely on each other and are comforted by each other's presence. They're fond of each other (even though Minchy would rather we didn't know that—he prefers to take a sort of exasperated big-brother attitude to Frances when we're around). Frances gives Minchy something else to focus on; he provides her with consistency. They're starting to play together—just a few minutes at a time—but sometimes, when they don't think I'm looking, they chase each other round and round in the backyard.

While personally I think all dogs are wonderful, there's just something so special about adopting one from your local shelter or rescue group. The satisfaction of knowing you not only saved their lives, but gave them a second (and often better) chance at happiness is enormous. At the shelter, we were convinced that adopted dogs were well aware of the second chance (and third, and fourth, and …) they'd been given and were truly appreciative.  The best way to test out this theory? Adopt a shelter pet yourself!

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If you adopted a pet from a shelter or rescue group and you'd like to share his or her story, please email me. I'd love to hear from you!

Mr. Minchy Spampobello and Frances Serena's Stories: Part 1

Pets' names: Mr. Minchy Spampobello and Frances Serena
Adopted by: Kerry A. Barnes
From: Minchy, bred by a "backyard breeder," came from a family who wasn't able to care for him; Frances came from the Tompkins County SPCA in Ithaca, N.Y.

Kerry (who blogs at Hamchuckles) sent the stories of her two dogs—below is Minchy's, and tomorrow's post will feature Frances' tale.

I have two adopted dogs who are the absolute light of my life—Mr. Minchy Spampobello and Frances Serena. Both came from unhappy situations and came to us with issues and emotional baggage. It's so enormously rewarding to see how they've grown and overcome their rough beginnings. They mean so much more to me because they needed me so. I worked for several years as fundraising director for our local shelter, the Tompkins County SPCA, a no-kill shelter since 2001, and I saw firsthand the joy and fulfillment that adopting a rescued pet brings to our lives, as well as theirs.

My husband and I moved to the Ithaca area in spring of 2003. We chose where we would live based primarily on the fact that we wanted—needed—a dog. After taking a couple months to settle in, we decided on Labor Day weekend to begin our search. Our SPCA was closed for the Labor Day holiday, but we could view dogs ready for adoption on their website. None of available pets really spoke to us. On a whim, we checked the "free to a good home" ads in the newspaper. There was an ad for a young beagle/Jack Russell pup, a combination we both liked. My husband called; we were one of many interested in this dog. We were persistent, however, and by the end of that day, we had a call back saying that no one else who showed interest was able to take the dog immediately. If we could, he was ours.

We jumped in the car and drove through a pounding rainstorm. Minchy was one of a litter of two. A college student in the area thought it would be "fun" to breed hunting dogs, then realized what he had wrought. When we went into the basement to see our potential pet and his brother, it was like watching two Tasmanian Devils on a rampage. I never even got a really good look at him until we had him in the car 20 minutes later. The family who was giving him up was friends with the student who'd bred the dogs. They agreed to keep one, but couldn't handle both of them.

Minchy was passed around to several homes before he got to us, including a nearly blind elderly woman in a high-rise apartment who thought this very obviously unneutered boy was a little girl. By the time he came to live with us, he had a severe case of separation anxiety, in addition to his intense energy, beagle stubbornness, and Jack Russell intelligence. He was a handful, to say the least.

The minute we left for work (and leaving the house was a major production, involving Minchy hiding and avoiding capture) he would destroy. He chewed CDs that were on shelves in our bedroom, chewed the shelves, tore apart a handful of beaded bracelets, turned his little bed inside out and shredded the foam to bits, and frequently peed on our bed. In spite of all this, we never once thought of giving him up. He was ours, part of our family, and if he was having troubles, we'd do what we could to help him through them.

I started working as fundraising director at our SPCA about eight months after we adopted Minchy, and it was a lifesaver. I got advice nearly every day from the shelter dog behaviorist, who was the one who diagnosed Minchy's separation anxiety. She gave us many techniques for working to quell his panic when we left the house. Having him neutered, as well as learning to use treat-filled Kongs as distractions, helped to calm our boy down and become less destructive. 

Even at his worst, he was the most loveable of dogs, snuggly in a way my childhood dog never was. The first night we brought him home, we'd made a little bed out of blankets for him at the foot of our bed. He took one look at it and jumped up on our bed, burrowing down under the covers between us. I remember he looked at both of us like, "Hey, guys! Nice to meet you! Good night!"

Part 2 will feature Frances' story. 

Frances (L) and Minchy (R)

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If you adopted a pet from a shelter or rescue group and you'd like to share his or her story, please email me. I'd love to hear from you!