I'm an out of state student, and during my freshman year, I took care of the feral cats on campus, partially because I missed my own girl back home. The next year, I found that they had died from eating toxic materials. I was mortified, and I didn't want to go back to an empty, lonely year, and so I started at a Petsmart location before the month was out. It was fulfilling, and the people were so incredibly kind.

One day, we got a beautiful big girl named Cornflower, and she was as shy as can be. It was as if she had never interacted with other cats before, aside from being attacked. She didn't hiss or meow once, just hid and waited. Ever volunteer makes a special connection with particular cats, and she was mine. I would sit with her for hours, come by and let her out for one-on-one time, and give her all the attention she didn't know how to ask for. She began to interact with the kittens-- grooming them, and trying to play in her own awkward way. When it was time for her to go back, I was an anxious mess because I had never been to the main shelter.

I visited her every week at the least, and while she may have appreciated the ability to sleep for hours outside of a cage, she was still so timid around other cats. Her ability to ingratiate herself with other cats by keeping to herself was her saving grace. After coming back to Petsmart, we were all relieved to see that she hadn't regressed. I talk about her so much as opposed to myself because she means so much to me. I'd say she has worked with me as much as I have worked with her.