Where did you get your current cat(s)?

I'm wondering how others came across the cat (or dog), or cats (or dogs) they currently have. I grew up in the Sandhills of Nebraska with dogs, although once in a great while there was a cat around.

Then I went away from home after graduating from high school, and no more pets until many many many years later, when I moved back to the Sandhills (but not the same part where I had grown up), and involuntarily began acquiring cats.

I wish I had pictures of all the current cats to post here, but I'm still learning this "scanning" thing, and while I have photographs in real life, I don't yet have them all scanned, imaged, and photobucketed.

The first cat who came here was Abbie, in January 2002. Abbie, the senior cat, is mostly grey, with a little bit of white and a little bit of black, and probably about 8 years old.

One dark night, while looking out the window, I saw a van drive down the gravel road nearby, and a cat tossed out of it.

Now, I'm not a cat person, but this irked me, especially since a domesticated cat would have problems surviving in the wilderness. It's an all-too-common practice for people, when tired of a cat or a dog, to take them out into the country and simply dump them.

The next day, I borrowed an animal trap and baited it, setting it out for this cat. Two days later, during a heavy winter rainstorm, the cat took the bait. And so Abbie, who was immediately shot and neutralized, and has always been comfortable here.

About a week later, when glancing out the window, I saw another cat--the exact same cat I had seen dumped.

So I borrowed the animal trap again, and some days later, during one really bitter-cold night, the cat took the bait. Snow is grey-and-white, about half and half. She was too young yet to be neutralized, but got her shots.

Then a few days before she was scheduled to be neutralized and shot, she got out of the house and came back enciente, and so one had to put a "hold" on that.

In September 2002, she bore Junior, Apricot, and Floyd, all of them spitting images of herself, although Apricot was more black-and-white, than grey-and-white. They were great kittens, great cats.

Alas in May 2003, Apricot was crushed by a motor vehicle when crossing the road, and has since been missed very much, as she was quite a saucy personality.

Noticing my discouragement at the loss of Apricot, a neighboring farmer presented me (without my asking) Gordon and Harold, two long-haired kittens.

Harold as a kitten; no picture available yet of his brother Gordon, who was pure black

Harold is still here, and now the senior male cat. Gordon like Junior before him, mysteriously evaporated in May 2008.

George came here in summer 2003; actually I stole him, from a primitive, a DUmmie, who had neglected him. Horror of horrors, she had named him "Sunshine."

George in the summer of 2008

Unwilling to tolerate animal abuse, I simply took him, and the primitive, the DUmmie, never even knew it, and probably does not know to this day. George has always had ample opportunity to return to his old home, but even after more than 5 years here, he shows no inclination to do so.

Ellie came here on Christmas Day 2003; a city councilman driving down the highway had seen her, and as I lived in the house closest from the highway, dropped her off. She was a very tiny all-orange kitten, so small one could hold her inside the palm of a hand without any overlap. She also had a broken tail, weighed less than a pound and a half, and was infested with all sorts of parasites. Ellie has since remained pretty small for a cat, but remains healthy and chipper.

Ellie in summer 2008

Sometime after she had been shot and neutralized, during a late-March snowstorm, Ellie disappeared for some days, coming back with a busted-off back leg. The leg was successfully set, although it was a long spring, as she so wanted to romp and play in the great outdoors, but the cast and splint were about the same size as she was then, and such was not possible. But by early summer, she had healed, and has since remained healthy and vigorous.

Leo came shortly after Ellie, within weeks of January 2004; Leo was obviously a feral kitten (about the same age as Ellie), and refused to come inside. One night, however, when it was -20 degrees F with a 50 mph wind blowing, Leo came inside.

Leo the summer of 2008

I had hoped I was done acquiring cats; even though by this time, the time Leo came here, I had already lost Apricot and Junior, the number of cats here, and those two losses, sapped more out of me than I had thought possible.

But then.....in May 2008, about five years later, Gustav showed up. Gustav is about 10-12 years old, an ancient among cats.

Gustav in July 2008

Gustav came here dangling a busted-off front leg, which was repaired by the veterinary the following morning, in addition to the shots and neutralization. Gustav really really really wanted to be wandering the great outdoors, but was incarcerated here until the splint and cast were removed some weeks later.

Unlike Ellie, who had recovered use of all four legs instantly the splint and cast had been removed, perhaps because of his Great Age, it took Gustav some weeks to re-discover his fourth leg. Once he started romping and racing in the meadow here, I figured Gustav was leaving. Since late August, Gustav has shown up for supper perhaps six times, and I'm hoping as the weather gets colder, Gustav will make it a point to stick around here, inside, more.

While Gustav was still on the mend, when I was in the "big city," someone dumped a cat inside my motor vehicle (fortunately all four windows were down a couple of inches, and fortunately I got back to the car less than an hour after I had parked it).

William, the latest and youngest cat, the summer of 2008

Well, I hope that's all the cats for now, as it gets crowded in the wintertime, when all are indoors. The house is large, with plenty of acreage for each cat, but for some reason they always want the same space all the other cats want.

This place is, really, a paradise for cats.

The river that runs near; I am the only house on this side of the river

The cat terrain to the north

The cat terrain to the west

The cat terrain to the south, getting to the river; there is a grove of walnut trees on the right, outside of this picture

On the east of the house is the famous William Rivers Pitt, circa 740 cubic tons of antique swine excrement dating from 1875 until 1950, looking very much like a miniature Jungfrau; no photograph available yet.

I got my cat from the local Humane Society. I went there attracted to a picture on the web of a cat they had, and when I got there I went into their group cat room and found that cat, but he wanted nothing to do with me. "Well," I said, "Let's have a look around," and I saw the most beautiful older kitten, all white except for a gray "mohawk" marking between her ears on the top of her head.

I have always wanted a white cat so I adopted her, and she has turned out to be the best cat. She keeps our two bichons in line, as well. She likes to ride around on my shoulders, and she purrs a lot. She is also quite playful, and the whole house is a jungle gym and playhouse for her. Right now she is on her back on the floor, playing with the tail of one of the bichons.

I am so glad I got her. If you can, go to your local Humane Society and pick out a cat. They are great pets for very little trouble.

But now, we’ll be on the high alert for the cats, and of course that height-challenged trooper who ticketed me for going 65 near Broken Bow on Highway 2 at 5 a.m. on a Sunday morning. And to think he had the nerve to ask if I was a Husker fan-—only when they lose I told him.

Ah yes, Broken Bow, the Gateway to the Sandhills of Nebraska.

A great town, Broken Bow; one of those rare places where the people aren't afraid to enforce the law.

I know driving on highways in the Sandhills makes it seem as if one can zip along at 100 mph, but there's a reason the speed limit is 60 mph.

Most outsiders just want to get out of what to them seems an empty land, which is not the right attitude to have. There's plenty to see in the Sandhills, if one isn't going too fast. And it beats driving in mountains.

On behalf of all the cats you rescued - thank you!

My two were both rescues - the boy, McTavish, was left in a cardboard box outside Petco with seven other kittens. They were so dirty and flea infested it took four baths to clean them. He is now 6 years old and weighed in at the vet.'s yesterday at 23 lbs!

My girl, Abbie, was found under the hood of a car. She is also 6.

They are both black and white and devoted to each other. When they snuggle it looks like one big black and white ball.

We have a Flamepoint Siamese that came to our house as a stray. Never figured that out. We didn’t want a cat, but she was so sweet. We call her “Gump.”

We have a Boston Terrier named Betty Boop. Best companion dog I have ever been around and I’ve had a dozen or so. She is the only thing in the house that farts, smells worse and snores louder than me. I think of my affection for her as professional respect!..

Well...let’s see... Cats: Butch is the male sibling of Sundance (deceased), and has been with us for about 7 years. He’s the senior, and was (with his sister) a pair of kittens from a litter out of a stray that showed up at our horse barn, eight years ago. He got in a fight with a racoon in the hay mow when he was two, and now has the distinction of being the world’s most expensive barn cat.
DirtFace, Fuzzy, Pirate (one eye), Lilly and Stumblebum (nerve damaged) are out of a litter from another stray that showed up a couple years ago. Since then, Pirate and Fuzzy have had two litter each, and we are now up to about 20 cats/kitten running around... They are:
Squeaker (can’t meow), YK2 (YellowKat 2), Elly (colored like an elephant), all of the ones already listed and about a dozen other, unnamed, all ready for good homes.
Dogs: Winston (dobie/rot cross) came with the place when we bought it (along with two of our eight horses). Best damn barn dog I’ve ever had, but lousy at Buick Roulette ($3k in fixing a leg and his jaw). Max, a Beagle/Newfie cross (you figger it out), and his brother Bear. Both out of a litter born to a Beagle that showed up on Christmas Eve six years ago, cut/bleeding and darn near dead. Nursed her back to good health and she paid us back with a litter of 12 puppies. Max and Bear are with us. Another sibling, Buddy is with our son, and the rest went to a senior citizen ‘pet therapy’ program and are helping needy seniors in Ohio and Indiana.
“Pup” was thrown out of a pickup truck down the road and was rescued by our daughter. He’s our burglar alarm; some sort of Chow mix, from looking at him.
Cody is a Jack Russell bought at a breeder’s farm because my daughter dropped him and the breeder pitched a fit. I think we got the better end of the deal...
Emma is a Lab mix. Probably the dumbest Lab I’ve ever known, but kinda cute. She was rescued about six miles from here, as a puppy.
And, finally, there is Bryant (Australian Shepherd) and $hithead (a real amalgam, not completely sure what all he’s got in his bloodline, but it can’t be pretty). Good chaps, though.
All of them friendly and well adjusted. Our vet for the horses is amazed that they all get along so well. And, we get a group rate on services, along with house calls.

So, I guess that other than Cody, they are all strays or rescues of one stripe or another. Wouldn’t have it any other way.

My elderly father had a female cat who was in love with the big gray Persian male next door and she stayed pregnant all the time. I brought the kittens up to my place since he wasn’t able to take care of them. There were three left, and two of them were not tough enough to survive out here in the wilderness. The long-hair, Stuffy, took after her daddy and was tough as nails and is still with us after eight or nine years. I pity any critter who gets a dose of Stuffy’s nose slashing.

The two dogs we have are fake gold bricks. Heavy and not worth hardly a flip. People were giving them away and we took them. (They think they’re protecting us and are very important.) They’re good dogs.

I got my current kitty, Moochie, after one of my tenants moved and turned his cat loose outside. She was so afraid of people that she lived in a hollow tree and dumpster. I would leave food outside for her and she would come out and eat after I left. That went on for about a year. She wouldn't let me near her. I finally coaxed her in but only for a minute or two at a time and I had to leave the door propped open so she could flee as soon as she felt unsafe. She gradually started staying in for longer periods of time. If the weather was cold or wet she would stay in longer, but she still wouldn't let me touch her.

One day I was sitting on the couch and she jumped up and sat next to me and let me pet her. She started doing that occasionally. Now after 10 or 11 years she won't leave me alone. She is on my lap almost anytime I am sitting still. She no longer likes to go outside.

Moochie still won't let anyone else touch her but me. She especially dislikes men.

Great pictures! I love happy cat stories!

When our black Persian passed at 18 1/2 years, 5 years into our marriage, and just two weeks after my cancer surgery, my DH suggested we get two kittens - a mamma's boy and a daddy's girl (my DH got really attached to my old girl-kitty). Partial to black Persians, I emailed every breeder I could find within 100 miles of our house but there were none to be found.

Just when I was ready to give up, one of the breeders emailed me with a picture she received of various Persians, including two little black babies. She said she didn't know who's they were or if they were available, but she'd be willing to investigate.

A day later, she emailed back with a phone number. I called and the family had just advertised them that day - a boy and a girl. DH and I went into a frenzy - he kitten-proofed the house while I shopped for supplies. The next day we drove 150 miles with cash in hand, hoping to get there before anyone took them.

Turns out they were the only kittens in their litter and they were the best of friends. We drove them home and they made themselves right at home - no separation anxiety. After a difficult year, they brought us incredible joy.

One day some months later, I was looking at their paperwork and noticed their birthday - it was the day of my cancer surgery.

We felt like God was taking care of us - while we were going through a difficult time, little did we know that a little blessing was being prepared for us...(pictures on my personal page!)

My Golden Retriever, Sam, enjoys a happy hour Corona from his beer bowl. <<<<<<<<<<<<

My late Jack Russell, Jack, loved to go to the vet (he went a lot as he was diabetic). One day, I took him outside to the car after a visit and went back inside to pay the bill. Came out and found he had tipped back an open Red Bull from my cupholder, and was getting ready to guzzle it down. The thought of a JR on Red Bull was not amusing, and I grabbed it just in time.

After having cats all my life, I have been without any for over 10 years — till 3 months ago.

DD moved from Denver to Baltimore and is now in a small apt. (long story and a long traumatic car trip cross country for Daisy, her outdoor cat.) I kept Daisy for awhile until DD was settled, helped her become an indoor cat and we decided that Daisy would be happier here than in another move. She is about 3 years old, a calico and a sweetheart.

BUT — you should never have just one cat. So a shelter visit produced Pansy, a kitten who was born in a basement. Evidently a policeman would pick up pregnant cats and get the mother fixed after the kitties were born. A shelter finally took all the kittens for adoption. Pansy was ratherferal when we got her. She is a tortie/calico and is beginning to come around and reacting to a little loving. She and Daisy are like mother and daughter.

However, with all the cats I’ve had all my life -— not one has knocked over as many plants, lamps, vases — etc. as this little 3 month old Pansy! She is a devil!!

How I wish I could put a picture of them here!

Okay, here’s one a little different. I was working in Saudi Arabia, noticed a strange, exotic cat hanging around in my apartment complex, walked over to check out the weird feline, realized she’d just had kittens, put out some food and water for her and, long story short, she took root in my apartment, was a fantastic, full-of-personality cat so I loaded her up and brought her back to California. When people ask where I got her, they’re sure I’m joking when I say, “Saudi Arabia.” Say whatcha will about the Saudis, but this is a premium-grade cat.

In 1999, our tomcat named Tom came home with a girlfriend. He was neutered so I don't know what his intentions were... She was a lovely solid gray cat like Tom and though she liked to eat our cat food and drink out of our toilet, she wouldn't let us get close to her. We called her Pilgrim because she just came and went. Then she got pregnant. Not Tom's, so he was just Uncle Tom. Pilgrim still wouldn't let us touch her, but she had the kittens in my closet! As we played with the kittens, Pilgrim finally got friendly enough -— for us to snatch her away to the vet to get her fixed! We kept the kittens, getting them fixed, too. When the house burned down, and we had to move, Pilgrim and two of the girls left home. But we still have Talyn and Lexi. so lovable

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