When my cat Socks – my best friend, my baby – passed away, I was devastated. I had Socks since I was 10 years old, and it had been me and him against the world for the past 19 years. I didn’t know if I would ever be ready to adopt another cat.
Almost two years after he passed, my sister wanted a kitten, and she asked me to help her pick one out. Once at the shelter, my sister set out to determine the most snuggly, cuddly kitten of the litter, picking each one up. It was a litter of grey tabbies, just like Socks. I felt a lump in my throat, but they were so cute that it distracted me from my emotions.
All of the kittens exceeded my sister’s requirements, and she was quickly torn on which one to adopt… all but one kitten anyway. One kitten refused to be held. He hissed and clawed and squirmed away from anyone who tried to touch him. He stomped around the room hissing and taking swipes at each of his brothers, and even some adult cats. His attitude problem was adorable. I scooped him up and rolled him onto his back, cradling him like a baby. He instantly fell asleep in my arms.
So much for being ready to adopt. So much for my resolve to not adopt a gray tabby. He laid curled up in my arms for the rest of the visit. When my sister had finally chosen her kitten and was ready to leave, the shelter worker went to take him from me. “No!”, I responded instinctively. I guess I was taking him home.
Pepper chose me. I don’t know why he did, but I’m so grateful. To this day, he still won’t let anyone else touch him and he’s still as feisty as ever. We actually joke that he’s feral… But every night, he demands to be in my arms. He jumps in regardless of what I’m trying to do, or the fact that he’s getting way too big. And he is helping me heal.
Story submitted by an anonymous user from Durham, New Hampshire.
This story was originally shared on The Animal Rescue Site. Share your very own rescue story here!