Dare I say it? Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

what a orange little fluff ball!! I’m so glad she found a home.

Fantastic. He could almost be related to Chardonnay.

Well-read FUZZ!!

He’s beautiful. I love it when kitties get happy endings/forever homes.

Thank you for looking after Sora, I’m sure he misses you too! He’s very sweet

What a precious boy. I am sure his mommy is giving him lots of hugs and kisses. There are some big paws on that little kitten he is going to grow up to be a big boy!

A little ball of sweet sunshine. I can only imagine how much you miss the little guy! I don’t think I would be able to let go. I really admire selfless people like you. God Bless You for your kindness and your very generous spirit. :))

Sora is a lucky little kitty to have been found by you! Bless you for taking him in until he could be placed in his forever home! He is precious!

Precious little fuzz baby. I’m so glad he had a happy ending and I’m sure he’ll have a great life and lots of love.

Oh, that story made me tear up! What a great story and what a beautiful name. Thank you for protecting this precious little boy.

Great story coming up—(tear-producer…)

Sheba
By Michael A. Obenski, V.M.D.

I first met Sheba in 1956. I was a third-grade student at the Round Meadow Elementary School. She was a seven-week-old kitten in a pet-shop window. She caught my eye immediately. I had always wanted a kitten, or at least that’s what I told myself when I saw her there on display.
At first, she didn’t even notice me standing there. I tried tapping on the glass, but her concentration remained elsewhere as she gave full attention to the task at hand. A thousand generations of hunting and stalking instinct were brought to bear as she successfully brought down her quarry - her sister’s tail.
I tapped again. She stared at me for a moment, and the bond was made. Following a brief discussion through the glass we concluded that we were made for each other. I vowed to return later in the day to take her home with me.
Unfortunately, I soon found that the road to kitten ownership was not without obstacles. Mom and Dad didn’t think much of my plans. It seemed that they knew quite a lot about the subject of acquiring pets. “Who ever heard of paying money for a cat? A kitten is something that you can get for free at any barn. Besides, we’re dog people.”
I wasn’t sure what that meant but, even at eight years old, I could see that the only true stumbling stone here was the finances. You see, Sheba came with a stiff price tag, two dollars and fifty cents. “A lot of money for something that you can get for free anywhere.”
Getting my own way this time was not going to be easy. However, I felt up to the challenge at hand and, after a day of typical little kid whining and a chunk of “birthday money” that came from Uncle Lou, Sheba was mine.
I was an instant hit with her, and the feeling was mutual. She slept on my bed every night. We had long and meaningful conversations when no one else was around. In fact, it was Sheba who was largely responsible for my deciding somewhat early in life to pursue a career as a veterinarian.
Through junior high, high school, college and veterinary school, she remained a close feline friend. Many important decisions regarding my career as well as my personal life were influenced by conversations, whether real or imagined, with Sheba.
Though she lived with Mom and Dad while I was busy getting married, raising a family and practicing the profession that she influenced me to join, she remained a close friend and seemed to enjoy visits from me, my wife and kids.
Undoubtedly, it was her influence once again that got me thinking about opening a veterinary hospital for cats only. She seemed to love the idea when we “talked” about it, and I knew from past experience that her judgment was flawless, so I set off down a new career path. In June of 1978, my new hospital, The Allentown Clinic for Cats, opened its doors.
Sheba was twenty-two years old on opening day when Mom and Dad brought her to see me and the beautiful new hospital that she had inspired. They hadn’t warned me in advance that there was a second reason for the visit.
Sheba looked horrible. Apparently she had become quite ill that week. I did a thorough exam and was forced to a bitter conclusion. You see, I had been in practice long enough to know when a situation was hopeless.
It seemed fitting that in the new hospital, Sheba was the first cat whose suffering we could ease. We had the last of our long conversations as she fell gently asleep in my arms.

Oh my goodness! What a cutie!

THANK YOU TO THE VOTERS IN MICHIGAN (my home state) AND ARIZONA!!

Michigan voters stepped up for mourning doves, crushing Proposal 3 on the ballot and restoring the 100-year tradition of protecting the state’s official bird of peace from target shooting. The vote was 68 percent to 32 percent. The Humane Society of the United States spearheaded the effort to protect mourning doves, from garnering more than 1,000 endorsements to relentlessly canvassing the state in support of the issue. Michigan voters listened, and the gentle backyard songbird will remain safe from target shooters.

In Arizona, humane treatment of farm animals won the day when voters cast their ballot in favor of Proposition 204, which bans gestation crates for breeding pigs and veal crates for young calves. Agribusiness and other special interests spent $2.5 million to defeat Proposition 204. It is the second state in the nation to ban gestation crates and the first state to ban veal crates. The vote was 61 percent in favor and only 39 percent opposed.

OMG, Dee!!! What an amazing story… A miserable rainy day here and now my PC screen is also blurry..I feel like sobbing but I don’t want to scare my fuzzbutts who are blissfully sleeping on my bed……..sigh

What a gorgeous little furry ball of delight!

look at the adorable freckly nose!

He’s got a case of the “kitten fuzzies!”.. He’s adorable ,and look at the big feet on him..He’ll be a big orange boy!

These ginger-fuzzles are just killing me! If you all don’t stop with the pretty orange tabbies, I’m going to have to add an unscheduled kitten to my house!

interesting article…

The Underrated Cat
If there is anything predictable about cats, it’s their unpredictability. Cats are multi-dimensional, mysterious creatures who will always defy whatever reputation people believe of them. Say they’re aloof, you’ll find kitties who are extremely affectionate. Say they are solitary by nature, you’ll find clusters of inseparable friends. Say they do only what pleases them, you’ll find cats who have regularly tend to others’ needs.

It’s not surprising, with their reputation, that we don’t hear more about the services they provide to other pets and people. There are no schools we know of that teach cats how to perform helpful tasks, as there are for dogs. Cats that rise to the occasion to become service animals are generally not taught to do the job. They understand there is a need, and they fill it.

Cats have been known to become “seeing-eye cats,” not for people, but for other pets in the house. Cats seem to know when one of their furry friends, be it cat or dog, has lost his vision, and they take on the job of guiding the blind animal through life. One of the most beautiful stories of this can be found on The Daily Mews. Mary, an old Pug had gone completely blind in both eyes. The owners noticed that their rescued kitty, Mancat was unusually devoted to Mary, always at her side. They realized Mancat was guiding the blind dog around furniture, up the stairs, even guarding her food bowl so the other dogs wouldn’t take advantage. Mancat was Mary’s self-appointed guide cat for the rest of her life.

Some cats have become “hearing cats” for their deaf owners. Though never trained, nor asked to perform these services, some cats can alert the deaf to the doorbell ringing, a fire alarm going off, or a baby crying in the next room.

Cats often have a very strong bond with their owners, and a desire to protect them from harm. Many cats have alerted their sleeping owners to a fire, gas leak or other imminent danger. Cats have even been known to risk their lives fighting off another animal to protect their owner.

But the most common, and official, service job cats have is as therapy cats. Cats with that special “I love everyone and everyone must love me” personality are perfect for the job and they perform an extraordinary service. Cats regularly visit nursing homes, hospitals and schools for the disabled to bring comfort and even joy to the people who need it most.

The practice of having companion animals in a nursing home is called The Eden Alternative, which was developed by Dr. Bill Thomas in 1990. He found a remarkable difference in the health of nursing home residents once cats came to live with them. In one specific instance, the residents experienced a 50% drop in infection rates. Even more remarkable, there were 25% fewer deaths than at a similar facility that did not have resident cats. While this is just one example in one facility and results this dramatic may not always hold true, it does help us understand the impact animals can have on our health.

Cats are remarkable individuals, incredibly diverse in their personalities and abilities. They are often the quiet, self-appointed helpers and indispensable companions of the person or pet who needs them most.

*Paperback Writer FUZZ*

Ohhhhhh! This kitty is so adorable. Fuzzy fluffball! I just want to pick it up and hug and kiss it! The name Sora sounds wonderful. That was so kind of you to take in this poor baby. The universe is smiling at you for your kind act.

Cat Legends

Egyptian Cats
Around 450 BC, anyone who killed a cat in Egypt was punished by death. When a cat died, the entire family would shave off their eyebrows as a sign of mourning. “The male cat is Ra himself, and he was called Mau because of the speech of the god Sa, who said concerning him: ` He is like
unto that which he hath made, therefore did the name of Ra become Mau.’” - papyrus from the XV111 Dynasty of Ancient Egypt, c.1500 BC Facts & Legends.

Norse Cats
In Norse mythological facts, the chariot of Freya, goddess of beauty, love and fertility, is drawn by two large longhaired cats; these two cats were often connected with the
powers of creativity, the Earth Mother and fertility gods.

Japanese Cats
Mi-Ki, or tri-colored cats, have been long taken by Japanese sailors on their ships to bring them good luck. The native Bobtail, according to legend, is the Japanese cat of preference because it is less likely to “bewitch” you with a twitching tail.
The figure of a cat with its left paw raised is commonly seen in gift shops in Japan where they are sold as souvenirs. It is believed that the beckoning cat brings good fortune to its owner.

Pussy Willows
There is a legend that many little kittens were thrown into a river to drown. The mother cat wept and was so distraught that the willow trees on the bank felt compassion and held out their branches to the struggling kittens who clung to them and were saved. Ever since that time, every
spring, the willow trees wear gray buds that feel as soft and silky as kitten tails. That is why they are called “pussy willows.”

Chinese Cats
Ancient Chinese legend maintains that the cat is the product of a lioness and a monkey - the lioness endowing her offspring with dignity and the monkey with curiosity and playfulness.

The Prophet Mohammed
The Prophet Mohammed, the founder of the Moslem religion, believed dogs were unclean, but loved cats so much that he once cut the sleeve from his robe to avoid disturbing his cat which had gone to sleep in his arms. According to legend, the “M” marking on the forehead of the tabby cat was created by the Prophet Mohammed when he rested his hand on the brow of his favorite cat.

Irish Cats
Poem Legend of the Kilkenny Cats (a testimony to the determination of a cat) There once was two cats of Kilkenny, And each thought there was one cat too many; So they quarreled and fought, And they scratched and they bit, Until there was only their nails, And the tips of their tails, Instead of two cats, there weren’t any.

Bohemian Cats
In what was known as Bohemia, now western Czechoslovakia, the cat was regarded as a symbol of fertility.

Thank you for rescuing Sora.

SO funny!

“The reason cats climb is so that they can look down on almost every other animal…it’s also the reason they hate birds.”
-KC Buffington

fun quiz at the Arm and Hammer Litter site: What’s Your Cat’s Character—only 4 questions…

http://www.armhammerpets.com/Quiz.aspx

Im confused and scared by the new Daily Kitten but I was even more depressed yesterday without it. Im trying to be strong

Very cute kittie.

Pass the marmalade — I need to kiss that orange loveball! (Mine is asleep on a blanket in the next room.)

…….I’ll try this again……………..
DC Comics Fuzz!

so tiny and fluffy ^_^

Where are you Susan in Ga? Are you entertaining your house guest?

Here is another great tear-jerker… (VERY happy tears!) You won’t make it dry-eyed through this one, Evangeline!

Oscar, the Garbage-Can Kitty

Oscar was named after the Sesame Street character who lives in a garbage can because that is where we first became acquainted. I was working at a pizza-delivery chain and had been assigned garbage duty. While tossing bags into a Dumpster, I heard a faint meow. I began digging through the trash, and several layers down I found a cat—bruised and thin. I wasn’t sure if the cat had crawled into the Dumpster to scavenge for food or if he had been put there purposely. Our establishment sat directly behind an apartment complex, and unsupervised and abandoned pets were common.

Back on solid ground, it became evident that the cat had an injured leg. He couldn’t put any weight on his right hindquarters. The situation created a dilemma for me. Finances were tight, and I was moving back home to my parents’ house—with two cats already in tow. Dad barely tolerated the two established felines. His reaction to another injured stray was sure to be less than receptive. I took the stray to the vet, hoping to patch him up. After shots and X-rays, the vet discovered the cat had a cracked pelvis. I posted notices, hoping someone would claim the cat or adopt him.

Meanwhile, the response at home was swift and firm: No more cats! Dad insisted I take the cat to the Humane Society immediately. I protested that the cat would be put to sleep. Luckily, my mother intervened. She agreed the injury would make the cat unadoptable, so we would keep him long enough for his hip to heal. Then he would have to go—no arguments.

Oscar must have somehow understood his situation. He seemed to study the other two cats and their interactions with my father. We suspect he bribed Tanner, our golden retriever, with table scraps in exchange for etiquette lessons. When the other cats were aloof, Oscar was attentive. He came when his name was called, and he would roll over on his back to have his belly scratched. As his injury began to heal, he would jump on the ottoman by my father’s favorite chair, and, eventually, into his lap. Initially, Dad pushed Oscar away, but persistence paid off. Soon, Oscar and a muttering Dad shared the chair. At mealtimes, Oscar would come to sit with us.

Positioned on the floor by my father’s chair, every so often Oscar would reach up with one paw and tap Dad on the knee. At first, this provoked great irritation and colorful expletives expressed in harsh tones. Oscar, however, refused to be put off. Repetitive knee-taps soon led to semi-covert handouts of choice morsels.

Oscar greeted my father at the top of the stairs every morning and waited for him at the door every evening. My father sometimes ignored Oscar, and, at other times, stepped over him, complaining the whole time. Oscar mastered opening doors by sticking his paw underneath the door and rocking it back and forth until it opened. Soon, he was sleeping in the master bedroom at the foot of the bed. My father was completely disgusted, but couldn’t stop the cat from sneaking onto the bed while they were sleeping. Eventually, Dad gave up.

Before long, Oscar, aspiring to his own place at the table during meals, began jumping up into my lap. He was allowed to stay as long as his head remained below table level. Of course, an occasional paw would appear as a reminder of his presence.

Three months passed, and the vet pronounced Oscar healthy and healed. I was heartbroken. How could I take this loving soul away from what had become his home, from the people he trusted? Sick at heart, I brought Oscar home and told my parents what should have been good news: Oscar was a healthy cat with a healed hip. “I’ll take him to the Humane Society like I promised,” I said dully. As I turned to put Oscar in the carrier for the trip, my father spoke, uttering three magic words: “Not my cat!” Oscar is home to stay. He now has his own chair at the table and sleeps—where else?—in the master bedroom between my mother and father. He is their official “grandkitten” and living proof that deep within the most unlikely heart, there is a cat lover in all of us.

What has been going on with this site’s feed recently?

I think Sora is a doll! I like the fuzz sticking out everywhere. Look at how small she is too.

Sora is wonderful. Thank you for saving her.

Thank you all for sharing your stories! They have brought tears to my eyes and laughter as well.

Thank you again.