In April 1998, we had moved to Phoenix almost a year earlier, renting an apartment that didn’t allow pets. We already had two furry family members, Nikki and Tigger, who’d made the move with us. Our company was building a new facility, and as offices were being packed, scratching sounds and tiny cries were coming from inside the walls.
A couple of guys carefully cut away the drywall and found two tiny kittens. Once freed, their eyes were barely open. I fell in love with both at first sight, but I knew that I couldn’t take both and really shouldn’t even take one, so I walked away while others discussed what to do with our rescued babies.
I couldn’t stand it, and I walked back to where the little ones were. Another employee said that she would take one, and this little black furball used all of her little strength to raise her little head. She was mine. I got a small box, put her inside, and took her home.
“Honey, guess what’s in the box!”
We bottle fed her and laughed as she grabbed hold of the bottle and wouldn’t let go. After a couple of days, she was accepted by Nikki and Tigger. We moved into our home, and our animal family grew. Although she was smaller than the others, Winnie became the ruler of the kingdom.
One day, I’d received some bad news about my mom, and I was sitting on the edge of the bed, crying. Winnie came over, stood on her hind legs and gently patted my cheek with her paw. It was a moment that I will never forget.
She growled whenever there was a knock at the door, or if she thought there was a problem between the others, she’d jump in the middle and growl at them like a parent scolding a child, and they would immediately behave. She was also a great snuggler, often on my pillow on top of my head. Winnie passed away at 16, and we feel such a void, but have wonderful memories to last a lifetime.
Story submitted by Anne from Minneapolis, Minnesota.
This story was originally shared on The Animal Rescue Site. Share your very own rescue story here!