Rescued pets, their adopted humans and the unspoken words that connect them
Monet was lying in bed, all sprawled out and extremely comfortable, so different from the last time I saw her. Back then, she was homeless and living in a shelter. Our eyes met. I could tell she didn’t recognize me.
So I refreshed her memory.
“I knew you back when your name was Patches,” I told her. “You were living in the Cat House then.”
The Cat House – also known as Kitty Corner – is home to the adoptable cats at the Belleville Area Humane Society. I serve on the shelter’s board of directors. One lucky Saturday, my niece Angela and her daughters, Alayna and Gabrielle, stopped by looking for a new family member.
“Of all the cats in the Cat House, they chose you,” I told Monet. The diluted Calico yawned and I scratched behind her ears. “They changed your name and I think it suits you.”
I also think my great niece, Alayna, thought it was odd when she walked into the bedroom and found me talking to Monet. It was Saturday night. Her mother was throwing a party for humans. And I was curled up with the cat.
One of my greatest joys in life is catching up with BAHS alum. Monet is one example – and I can think of dozens more. I’ve been involved with the shelter for almost 20 years and I have seen lives transformed again and again.
Like the once-homeless pit bull who wound up being a greeter at a tavern. All the bar’s patrons rubbed him on the head before pulling up a bar stool. So many people brought him treats that his owner, the bar’s proprietor, had to put him on a diet.
Or the tiny terrier mix with the deformed front legs who was adopted by a disabled veteran. His owner suffered from depression and he gave her a reason to live. Nearly a decade later, they are still each other’s best friends.
It’s interesting to see who goes home with whom. Sometimes a person will go straight to a dog that reminds them of one they owned as a child. An extroverted person will lock eyes with an introverted animal. Or an orange tabby will extend its paw at just the right time to melt a passerby’s heart.
I, myself, have always wound up with animals because they needed me. My beloved Shih Tzu, the late Captain Jack, drew me in because he was missing an eye. The little black kittens my son found along the roadside had frostbitten tails. The shelter vetted them and we brought them back home as “fosters.” Six months later, they still sleep in my bed.
Speaking of beds …
“It’s been so great catching up with you,” I told Monet. “But I have to get back to the party.”
She batted my arm with her paw and I kissed her head.
Cats don’t need words to communicate. And sometimes, people don’t either.
