Pet Redemption Stories

[Cooper]

I wanted to tell the tale of Midnight. When we first got Mid, she was from a friend who had a second cat. My friend was told one of the cats had to go, so she picked the one that seemed to hate them.



We quickly found that Midnight had some serious animal-style mental illnesses (I've seen it in at least two cats. Animals go crazy too.)

She was so afraid of us, we never saw her. She would hide in the furniture until we all went to bed, then do her business. Any time we moved to a new place, she would revert to her original self, and it got to the point that if she saw us packing, she'd disappear. (We once had to drag her out from inside the walls of the house.) I didn't really suspect abuse until one really obvious signal came up: We got a hamster.

The previous owners had a hamster too. Almost the same breed and colour as the one we had (theirs was long-haired.) She would look at the hamster, then practically beg us not to hurt her for it. I questioned my friend, and apparently any time she glanced at the hamster they smacked her. Between that, the declawing (which apparently cause severe psychological damage in cats, but especially her), and the other cat bullying her, we got a very fearful kitty that hated everything.

I'd like to introduce you to Midnight ten years later (now.)



(apologies for the crap photo quality. It was taken with my original camera, and is one of the few photos from it that I kept mostly due to having so few pictures of this kitty.)

She gradually got more friendly, and each change just seemed to make her happier. First, the rabbit taught her that little animals could stand up for themselves.



In that bunny's lifetime, I only got one photoshoot of the two together, and to be honest, it doesn't fairly explain their relationship. The rabbit treated Midnight like a submissive rabbit, asking Midnight to groom her, kicking Midnight out of her territory (by charging at her like an itty-bitty bull) and so on. But the rabbit really did seem to like Midnight, and Midnight reciprocated most of the time. (Other times, such as in the above photo, she's kinda 'please back off.')

And with having had two little animals, and us not going off on her for showing a casual interest in them, she calmed down around us significantly. Then, we inherited my grandfather's cat, which forced her to become a more social animal.

She got a bit attention-deprived, since my grandfather's cat got the prime territory of the house.

Finally, moving. I moved to my own place, where it's her and the rabbits.

Midnight is such a spoiled kitty now. To combat her food-related-anxiety, and to hopefully help her gain weight, I ripped open the bag, and she eats straight out of that. (She would otherwise ask me constantly for more food, always seeming afraid she was going to run out if she looked away.) I don't close the bathroom door (the only door in the house) so she can, and does, follow me everywhere.

And when I come home from a long day at work/school? She's sitting on the chair closest to the door. She won't stop meowing until I pet her. I usually get greeted in the morning by her tapping my nose with her paw (usually saying "Hey, I saw your eyes open, you're awake, now love me.) Now she's picked up two new habits when I go to the bathroom. She has to watch the toilet flush, which is apparently fascinating to her. She also stands on the back so she can rub my face with hers.

She also has a tendency to, and I will not worry about her general health until she stops this (even though she's 14) run around all the furniture, jump from one chair to the other, hop onto my bed, my tv, and onto my spare mattress up against the wall, and 'get it.' (She has no claws to get it, so I'm happy to watch her try.) Then she'll hop down so she can lie in front of the heater, because teh warmz.

Midnight has been the sweetest kitty in the world to me. It did take a while though, and she definitely had to be the only cat.

So, what's your pet redemption story? A pet that was sad, abused, or lonely that now is the happiest thing in the world? I'd love pictures. ^^

[Draper Mel]

Nora used to flinch sometimes when I went to pet her. I got her from my property manager, who in turn, rescued her as a stray in the middle of winter. So I don't know where the abuse happened. I explained to her that nobody here is going to hit you (except Julie, the other cat).

She's quite comfortable with me now, and even sits on my lap occasionally. It's been a long time since she flinched. She's never liked being picked up and hugged, but she's more patient with that now, too.

[Kittish]

Well, currently there's the Bittle Kittle. She came to us as a tiny little kitten, born to a feral mom. As I understood from the person I got her from, Bittle was captured by some folks who do a catch spay/neuter release thing with feral cats. She was spayed MUCH too young by a vet (I don't know who, or I'd have had words with them by now) who really ought to have known better. She was, when we got her, at most 8 weeks old, and had had the surgery a week or more before we got her. She was found, alone and starving, hiding under a dog house by the person I got her from. When she was dropped with me, she was so skinny she was bony and terrified of everything. Who could blame her though?

My other cat, Kitteh Van Gogh, adopted her almost on sight, and she took to him just as quickly. At first, I didn't push letting her hide and eat where she didn't have to feel exposed. I did stay nearby tho, so she'd start getting used to me. After the first couple of days she started coming out of hiding with me near, but would skitter off if I moved. By the time she'd been with us for a week, though, she was starting to let me touch her. Kitteh helped a lot. He'd come to me and flop over on his back for belly rubs and do that back and forth strop thing around my ankles and nothing bad ever happened. Bittle decided that yea, she likes attention. And nothing bad happens to Kitteh from the furless giant, so....

We've had her 3 months or so by this point, maybe closer to 4 months. She's still afraid of my partner (but then he's not around nearly so much as I am), but she comes up to me for petting and even lets me pick her up and cuddle her if only briefly. I never try to hold her past the point she indicates that she wants down, so she's also learned that she doesn't need to claw at me, just do that wiggle and I'll put her down. She follows me around the house a lot, and meows nearly constantly (especially if she thinks anything like food is involved). She's the chattiest little cat I think I've ever seen. Of course I talk back to her, which encourages her.

She's even come out of hiding when we have guests over, once anyway. It was cute the way she watched our friend ever so closely while he talked to her and tried to coax her to him. Not so much scared close, as 'you're new, I don't know you, but you don't seem too scary'.

I figure in another six months to a year she'll probably have developed into a serious snuggle cat. Which I'll be more than happy to encourage.

[FormerCallingCardRep]

In the fall of 2008 when the Oldest daughter moved out, she took our cat with her. Little Bits was very upset with the loss of our pet so we started looking for a kitten. In our local bulletin board there was an ad for a 6 month old female kitten that had been spayed that was in need of a new home due to her owner having had a stroke and had been placed in a nursing home. We went to see her and the most beautiful tortie jumped up into Little Bits lap and proceeded to start purring. The old lady had called her Sweety. We decided on the spot that we found a perfect fit. Before we left with her, we were told that they had planned to take her to the shelter the next morning if we had not taken her. We renamed her Boots and she is one of the sweetest cats I have ever had.

[Pixilated]

Many years ago, a coworker of mine spotted a tiny black-and-white cat, apparently homeless and possibly feral, and let me know she (coworker) was trying to catch the kitty to get it to me. I lived in a small rural community at the time and I had become the go-to person among people who knew me when they needed a temporary (ha) home for kitties.

Tubby (coworker named her; it did NOT match her physique but I never bothered to change it) was as timid as they come. When I first got her, I locked her in my bathroom (with food, water and litterbox!) to keep her and my other cats separated. When I cautiously edged into the bathroom a a few hours later -- she was nowhere to be seen. She couldn't have gotten out through the window and there's a limited number of places in a bathroom where an animal can hide -- or so I thought. I started poking around and discovered that, skinny little thing that she was, she had edged her way into the homemade under-the-sink storage area! (The doors didn't open outward, you slid them from side to side and I'd left one open -- just barely.)

I folded a towel so at least she'd have something soft to curl up on, for as long as she wanted to sleep in there, and just left her alone.

I've no idea whether she was abused or just naturally timid. Eventually she became quite comfortable with me and with the other cats.

[Sonoma]

Years ago, when I was in college, my sister wanted a Samoyed. We'd had one that turned aggresive, so she was told she could get an adult, not a puppy. She found a 6 year old dog that needed a new home. We went out to meet him, and the owners told us he didn't like riding in the car. Turns out, he only went in the car when they took him to the v...e....t. The trip home, he was a nervous wreck, and had to have his nose out the window (in January, of course).

Once we got him home & he settled in with us, we started taking him for rides "just because". We'd go to a fast-food place and get him a hamburger or an ice cream cone. If he had to go to the vet, we'd stop by the Dairy Queen a mile from the house, so he'd associate car rides with treats.

By the time we had to put him down after 9 years, he LOVED going in the car. My sisters & I shared a lemon-yellow 1974 Mustang Mach II, and Toby'd sit in the passenger seat. Whenever we'd get to a corner, he'd lean into the cuve, so we had this 50-lb fluffy, white dog sitting in the passenger seat l..e..a..n..i..n..g whichever way we turned.

Man, I miss that dog. He was our retarded, arthritic, epileptic Samoyed, but he was a wonderful dog.

[fma_fanatic]

Her name was Neko and she was an adorable cuddlebug. I adopted her from the Humane Society when she was six months old because I told my ex if he was going to be travelling all the time, I needed someone to stay with me (he was going all over the world at the time).

No one else wanted her because she was the runt of the litter, but you couldn't tell. She was also very slender. When I did finally divorce the ex, I took her with me and she kept me company. When I started dating again, I could tell who she liked and who she didn't. She loved my one friend, despite his being allergic to cats and he liked her. One guy she hated. He tried to force her onto his lap and she wanted nothing to do with him.

But when DaDairyDruid came along, she was all over him. It might have helped that he came from a house of cats, so she smelled them, but she loved him. She was the one who brought us together.

She spent a couple of years with other cats and for the most part got along with them. When they left, she seemed a little sad. So not long after we got our house, we got, Avia, also known as Da Fat One.



Yes, that is her pizza.

They never fought and both were good towards each other. Both were fairly laid back cats so that probably helped too. I think they just learned to know not to antagonize each other.

Sadly Neko passed away in 2010. She had been diagnosed with hyperthyroidism about six months before, but she had other problems we didn't know about until one night she wouldn't take her pill treat. Then I noticed she was having problems breathing. An xray showed fluid in her chest cavity and the vet felt it was cancer and something had burst. She was slowly drowning. That day was the saddest of my life, second only to my dad passing away. I went to the vet to say goodbye and I cried like a baby that night. We both did.

Aiva seemed a little mopey and about three weeks later, we got Suki.



Suki thinks she's in charge, but Aiva doesn't hesitate to put her in her place. She is the proverbial bratty cat child. She's four years old and acts like it. She is a lovable kitty, and very high strung sometimes. She loves to play and look cute.

[MoonCat]

OK, I'll tell the tale of Minnie. She wasn't the first cat we rescued, but she was one of the smallest, thus the name She was mostly white with a couple of dark spots, and her head and tail were mackerel-striped.

Her mama was a semi-feral cat who would not let us take her in. There were four other kittens. It was fall, and cold, and wet. Minnie was very ill with a respiratory infection. My sister brought her inside one rainy night and we wrapped her up in a couple of towels. Poor thing was soaking wet, congested, could barely breathe. After a while of holding her, she gave a big sigh and relaxed. At first we thought she'd passed away, then we realized her little heart was still beating. She'd just finally gotten warm through and through.

Next day we took her to the vet. They didn't think she'd make it another day, but we got medicine for her, and my mom and sis took turns staying up with her at night so she could be medicated around the clock. We fed her with baby food & water through an eye dropper. Once Minnie realized it was food we were putting into her mouth, she began to suck it down. She slept in a shoebox padded with towels.

We were a little worried that the other cat, Midnight, wouldn't like her, but he sniffed her all over and seemed to understand she was no threat to him. When she was well enough to run around and play, he became her big brother or uncle. She'd pounce on him, chew on his ears, play with his tail. He put up with a lot, but Middie was the most laid-back, mellow cat we've ever had.

She never grew very big, but she was feisty, energetic and very playful, a total sweetie. Minnie lived to be about 12. Her kidneys eventually failed, and she was susceptible to respiratory illnesses; it was a combination of the two things, in the end. I still miss her sweet little face.

[Seshat]

Our little dog, Vi.

She was found in one of the parks in the middle of the city we live in, and taken to the Lost Dogs Home. (Yes, people who live in my part of Aussieland now know which city I'm in.) They matched her with us, and she's been an excellent match for us.

She was skittish about eating in front of people - and still is. She has to be given permission to eat if there's any human around, and she won't eat in front of either of the cats. She's still sure someone's going to take her food from her, or punish her for eating. She kind of 'knows' we won't - that it never happens here - but she still prefers to eat unobserved.

The other thing that makes us sure she was abused at one point: she's scared of sticks. As in, she was UTTERLY TERRIFIED of my walking stick initially.

She still prefers to walk on the other side of Anna from me, with Anna on the left (I use my stick with my right arm, so the stick is as far from her as possible); but she no longer acts as if I might immediately attack her with it. She just doesn't like it.

[Lace Neil Singer]

This is the story of Daisy, the cat that my parents currently had. When my cat Cleo, who I had to leave behind when I moved out, died, my parents missed having a cat around so much that they decided to get a new one. My mum went to a rescue centre and chose Daisy, who was a two year old calico who's previous owners had been abusive. They'd locked her up in a cupboard and kicked her around. They'd been prosecuted for animal cruelty, and Daisy went to the rescue centre to be rehomed.

Daisy was scared of everyone. She hid behind the fridge whenever anyone came near her, cried out if anyone wearing shoes walked past and was frightened to eat if anyone was in the room. My parents were patient with her and whenever I visited, I was always careful not to make her nervous and to try and show her that not all humans were bad by petting her and giving her treats.

Now tho, Daisy is a wonderfully affectionate cat who loves to sleep on the best sofa, climb trees in the back garden and loves being petted; she especially loves people to rub her head.

[Sonoma]

Somehow, the rescued/adopted pets know they've got a second chance. Alex, my flame point Siamese was a rescue, as is my current 1-year old orange tabby Maine Coon mix, Donny. They both are (or were, in the Siamese's case) very affectionate cats. Alex was a year or so old when he was picked up as a stray at an apartment complex. Donny came from the county animal control, with his mom, 2 brothers, and a sister. They've all found new homes now.

Almost forgot, my Himalayan, Casey's mom was named Cleo. Unfortunately, she's not comfortable around people, so I hardly ever see her, but Casey & his litter were handled by people from day 1, so they al urned out to be friendly kittens.

[Moirae]

My whole family has only had pets that were wild in some way.

When I was very little, my mom's cat fluffy died. I barely remember him except for finding him curled up in the drawer under my big girl bed when I was 3 or 4. He was this big white very fluffy kitty. I don't remember how my mom got him.

My dad is a butcher and a meat cutter. When I was a kid, he worked for a butcher shop that had it's own slaughterhouse. They had a kitty living on site to take care of any rodents. She had a little of kittens (5 short haired white males with a black spot on their chest), and a white, yellow and orange very furry girl. My dad came home about 4 or 5 weeks after they were born and took my sister and I to go pick out a kitten. Of course, I chose the girl and that's who we took home. She lived to be just two weeks shy of her 20th birthday. We had to put her down due to kidney failure. It was better than the suffering.

My sister found both her boys through friends who told her they were strays. The gray is named Dexter, and she told me once that he hated her and kept attacking her. I didn't believe her until he leaped straight at our heads one day. Funny thing was that he really wanted to grab on to the curtain behind us and climb lol. The other was named Chester. Eventually, she found a farm to give him to because he virtually destroyed the house by urinating everywhere.

My stepdad has a boy and a girl. The boy is completely black, and came from my sister who said that a friend of a friend found him starving in a back yard. The girl is named Shy and her name suits her. She is very Shy and won't come out around anyone she doesn't know but is very sweet once she does know you. She is very much a scardy cat and won't leave the house for any reason. It took many years for my mom and stepdad to get her comfortable enough to be willing to sit in a room with them. She spent the first two months doing nothing but hiding under the bed and eating. She was found in a box on the side of the road with 4 brothers and sisters, then kept under stairs in a makeshift kitty area for 6 months (they didn't abuse her, just kept her separated from human contact except for feedings and litter box changes. They thought they were doing the right thing. They were wrong).

My little girl I adopted from a pet agency back in Canada. The society takes stray kitties, fixes them, gives them medical treatment and then gives them temporary homes until they are ready to be adopted permanently with families in the area.

We estimate that my girlie was around 6 weeks when I first saw her. She had a bunch of brothers and sisters in the viewing area and when I went in, she fell asleep in my arms. I went back three times after that, and finally decided I had to have her.

The society charged $120 but she was worth every penny. She is as much part of my life as any of my human family members. She's very very talkative (as in constantly, non-stop. I've never seen a kitty so chatty in my life) and of course I talk right back in both my version of kitty and english. She's very lovey, cuddly, and utterly spoiled. She also thinks everything in the world should go the way she demands it because she demanded it (it doesn't always work that way of course, but it doesn't stop her from thinking it). She's also incredibly bossy and makes me giggle almost incessantly. She is now almost 11 years old.

I'm very big on rescuing kitties. They need homes. If I could, I'd bring another kitty into our household but my Sasha does better when she's the only kitty.

[Fudgethatkay]

I had a pure black Dachshund names Onyx. She had a loooong scar all the way down her back. She was abused by two previous owners.

My dad got her the day before they were supposed to put her to sleep. They told him she would be bad with kids, but he still decided to get her, since I was about 8-9, and mature enough to leave animals alone. (Well, fearful, rather than mature)

He brought her home...told me to be careful, he didn't know if she would bite me or not, she was previously abused...

That dog escaped his firm grip...and came up licking my face and wagging her tail.

So ferocious. However, she dug a lot, and escaped after we moved when I was 14 :< The people who returned her the first time were upset that my father didn't give them a reward, (he didn't promise that, due to money) that they decided to either kill her or put her in the pound..
I'll never know, but we did give her a loving home for 6, nearly seven good years.



My late kitty Gizmo, was found at three weeks old. Stepmother brought her home, and she showed her spunk by hissing when Onyx tried to sniff her box.
She took a long time to adjust to me, I was too hyper for cats, but by her last years, after they moved her to a garage/hallway kitty, she came whenever I called her.
I loved her dearly, she gave me some good memories, and my Guinness reminds me a lot of her, even if they were different breeds.

[EyeTeaGuy]

My wife and I have 3 dogs - two schnauzer poodle (Schnoodle) mixes, and one purebred miniature schnauzer. 2 boys, 1 girl, girl is a schnoodle.

Gatsby - male schnoodle - only one without a redemption story, really - we got him from a good breeder at 11 weeks old, and he's about 4 1/2 now. He does hold the distinction, however, of being the dog that let my wife get over her fear of them due to a vicious Doberman from her childhood. This one is so vicious at 10 pounds, he will jump up and lick your face and try to roto-rooter your nostrils/throat with his tongue. :P

Gracie - our girl. She was abandoned on the side of the road near Moab, UT while pregnant. 3 years old at the time (now 6), and luckily the city shelter there took her in, let her have her puppies and raise them to the proper weaning age. Once the day came, my father and I drove from Denver to Moab (14 hours round trip), and brought her home. We took Gatsby with us, and the first thing she did was bark at him to let him know who is boss. Best of friends now, truly inseperable. We think Gatsby became a stepson to her, since he was still under a year when we got her. She is also known as "Captain Asshole", because there are many times where she pushes the boys around, takes their toys, etc. Clearly the alpha of the 4 footed pack in the family, but she'll also cuddle up to my chest just like a human toddler.

Gusteau - Our most recent adoption, from the Denver Dumb Friends League. He was a stray that was brought in and was so matted they had to shave him practically bald. As big as the other two combined, and with the biggest heart I've ever seen in a dog. He has now decided he is the protector puppy of our other two, especially of Gatsby since Gatsby is so small. Gatsby is going through a medical issue right now (ulcers in the stomach, Schnauzers are very susceptible to GI problems), and has to get a slurry to coat his stomach by syringe in his mouth twice a day. He HATES it, and each time he squirms, squiggles and cries when we give it to him, Gusteau tries to get in the middle of it and protect his "little bro".

We could tell that Gusteau was abused, because when he was getting used to our condo and we were finishing potty training him, if he had an accident in the house he would cower and hide immediately.

The amazing thing is that each time we added a new dog (we'd have more but Denver limits to 3), the one(s) already there just "knew" that we were rescuing a dog that needed a home. Gatsby literally took Gracie through a tour of the apartment to show her where the toys were, and where the food & water could be found.