I often wonder how people actually select a pet for adoption. Except for my horses, I don’t think I’ve ever actively sought a new pet. Thank goodness people don’t let their horses run loose like they do their cats and dogs!
In order of age (to the best of my recollection):
Blackie aka Tank aka Meathead aka The Henchman – Came to us an intact tom, probably two or three years old. Now in his dotage, he can still snatch a gopher out of its hole and dispatch it with only one tooth.*
The gray kitties, found dumped by the side of the highway as little guys – In keeping with our policy of not naming strays that we intend to give away, remain Gray Kitty and Other Gray Kitty (Other for short) fifteen years later.
Shola aka Peeps migrated from the neighbor’s house already in heat. A quick trip to the vet fixed the problem and she remains the queen of the realm.
Garfield was left behind when the next-door neighbors moved away. He had some behavior problems that made it impossible to re-home him. He has been restored to good mental health though he’s a quirky boy.
Eva Braun’s staff died and the heirs were going to have her put down. She found refuge with us.
And the most recent additions – two strays found on Christmas Eve. Thanks a lot, Santa. Perhaps the last thing we would have wished for and certainly the last thing our cats would have wanted.
*Since I wrote this Blackie has gone on to the happy gopher hunting grounds, where (I hope) he has a full set of teeth.