Providing Solace

Pets are often shuffled from one home to the next, exchanged from owner to owner, or in and out of shelters. It's a rare and lucky pet that lives in one home for its entire life. And if a pet happens to have a medical problem, the odds are stacked against it finding a home at all.

By Kelli Ohrtman, Star Tribune Sales and Marketing

Last update: December 6, 2007 - 12:41 PM

Saved from life in a cage

Consider B.D., a pretty calico cat who spent three years living in a cage at a failing animal shelter in Crookston, Minn.. B.D.'s ears were full of tumors, probably the reason why no one adopted her. Life looked pretty grim until a year ago, when Prior Lake resident Peggy Augustine met B.D.

"She'd been living in a one-foot by two-foot cage for three years, and her ears were so full of tumors that both ear canals had to be removed," says Peggy. After surgery, B.D. was still homeless and now she was deaf. Who knows what kind of life B.D. led before she was put in a cage at the shelter, but since Peggy adopted B.D., perhaps she can finally relax in her silent world and new, permanent home.

"She's been fine in my house; if I want to get her attention, I tap on something and she can feel it through the floor." In fact, compared to the rest of Peggy's felines, B.D. is pretty normal. Peggy's household consists of an eighteen-year-old blind cat, a physically handicapped cat and a cat with a contagious, life-threatening virus. Maybe that's why bringing a cat like B.D. home was nothing out of the ordinary for Peggy. For the cats in her household, Peggy was their last hope.

Left behind during Hurricane Katrina

Says Peggy, "Quite honestly, I didn't go looking for them. But I think they have a way of finding people." Like Skeeters, an eighteen-year-old, blind and emaciated cat whose elderly owner left him behind during Hurricane Katrina. The woman left a note explaining that she wasn't able to bring Skeeters with her, and that he ate wet cat food - seafood flavor only. The two years that Skeeters has lived with Peggy, he's gone from a slight four pounds to a beefy ten, and still only eats seafood-flavored wet food.

"He's eighteen, so sleeping is the major part of his day," Peggy says. "He clunks into things, but he's okay." Skeeters, in addition to being blind and a bit scraggly, has another affliction that often jeopardizes a cat's security in a home. He does his business not in the litter box, but next to it. "It's an inconvenience, but I just put pads under the litter box and pick them up each day. It's not a big deal and he needs a break." Peggy adds, "That's just something you live with because it's his last chance."

Twitching his way through life

Before Peggy brought home her blind cat and her deaf cat, there was Scoodles, a kitten born with a condition called cerebellum hyperplasia. "Scoodles can walk about two steps before he falls down," explains Peggy. He wobbles around the house, jerking here and there, falling and getting up, and using the ramp Peggy built so he can pile on the bed with the rest of the cats. "It's so much fun when he comes "charging" up the ramp onto the bed. It's his favorite thing - he loves it."

Animals outnumber available homes

In a world where pets end up in shelters for all kinds of reasons, cats like Peggy's don't have much of a chance. It's a sad reality, but there are far more animals than people who can provide loving, permanent homes.

Each of Peggy's cats has a story of being lost in the shuffle among the younger, healthier animals that inevitably find homes first. Yes, her felines might be more work than "normal" cats (she has two of those also), but sharing her life with these extra-special cats far outweighs any inconvenience.

Kelli Ohrtman is a freelance writer from Minneapolis who works at Best Friends Animal Society in Kanab, Utah. She can be reached at www.kelliohrtman.com.