In February last year, I had to say the tough goodbye to an 18-year-old cat. Losing Karma took a chunk of my heart, like they all do it seems. On May 13th, I stopped by the Pleasantdale Road shelter to see a particular cat that had been posted for adoption. I wasn't convinced I was ready, but had been browsing the listings. By the time I arrived, however, that cat had been claimed by a new owner. Happy for the cat, I decided to just hang out with the feline residents of the shelter. Four hours later, I took home "Puffy Mama." She had spent the last 5 of her 6 years at the shelter. Overlooked and overwhelmed, this little fluffy black waif of a cat simultaneously broke my heart and stole my heart. The volunteers cried along with me that day. I took her home, determined to let her have all the time she needed. I sat on the floor of the guest room and read my way through four novels over three weeks before she ventured out from under the bed. It's been a slow journey, but she has become a bouncy, happy, playful, loving companion - now named Mazikeen. My other adopted cat, Cajun (15 years old), has surrendered to having a shadow. Mazikeen brings me joy every single day. I've told my adoption counselor more than once "thank you" for keeping this little one safe until we could rescue each other.
(The first photo is the first day home with me, the second Mazi - like "Jazzy" - showing off on Valentine's Day.)