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!

Cooper's Story

Pet's name: Cooper
Adopted by: Barbara
From: National Mill Dog Rescue, Peyton, Colo.

Cooper's story originally appeared on Barbara's blog, That Was Vegan?

Cooper came to live with us on December 7, 2007. Jason and I decided that year that, rather than buying gifts for each other, we'd each choose something we wanted and buy it for ourselves. Perhaps not the most romantic method, but certainly efficient. For my gift to myself, I adopted Cooper from the National Mill Dog Rescue (NMDR). They're a WONDERFUL organization who rescue, rehabilitate, and rehome puppy mill survivors, and educate the public on the evils of purchasing puppies from pet stores and online. I had recently heard through a friend about the amazing NMDR—and I wanted in on the action! I looked on their website, and although every single dog looked adorable and loveable and everything else-able, I decided to wait until we could visit the rescue. I wanted to see if I had an instant connection with any of the pups. I wanted my new dog to choose ME.

Fast forward a few days, and Jason and I drove out to the rescue. I was sitting on a stool as they brought dogs to me one at a time to meet. Obviously I loved every dog that I saw and wanted to take them all home with me, but I never stopped her from bringing more dogs in. I wasn't done yet. Then she came through the doorway carrying a little black bundle, and placed him on the ground at my feet. Not only was he covered in mud, but his fur was matted too—I really wasn't even sure what breed he was. He was very shy (they called him "Timmy the Timid") and although he wouldn't approach me, he was doing this adorable little "commando crawl" on his belly back and forth in front of me. I knew immediately.

Some paperwork and an adoption fee later and Cooper was on his way to his Forever Home with us. He was about five years old, and had been rescued a few weeks before from a breeding dog auction in Missouri. That's a story for another (longer, sadder) post, but suffice to say my sweet boy was minutes away from a cruel death when he was saved. But all that is in the past, and he's now the happiest pup you could ever meet. He only has one eye, but that doesn't stop him from scampering around the house begging for treats, or sitting on my lap watching while I watch TV. We're best friends, totally inseparable!

Happy birthday Cooper! Thank you for four years of happiness and love and little doggie kisses—and I look forward to many more!

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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!