It was a hot day in SW Florida; the day after Mother’s Day 2007. I am pretty sure I was minding my own business as a semi-feral kitten when a dog snatched me up and started to shake me really badly. A nice man in a big scary truck stopped to rescue me from the mouth of my attacker. I was stunned when he carried me carefully into the humane society and gently handed me over to two nice ladies. I didn’t know, at the time, that one of those ladies would end up being my mom forever.
They said I was in “shock” and they didn’t know what to do with me. My mom took me to a veterinarian who stretched me out on a special table and took pictures of my body. I was little. Only about five weeks old and less than two-pounds. The doctor said I was suffering from rear leg paralysis…and that she didn’t know if it would be permanent. So, I went back to the shelter where I ate some food, drank some water, and curled up on some blankets. I didn’t know what was happening and I surely didn’t know what to do. Neither did my soon-to-be mom. But she got busy making phone calls to specialists in all over the state of Florida.
Within a couple of days, after getting rid of my fleas, I went on a big car ride to Sarasota and met some of the nicest people. One doctor did adjustments to my spine and told me that I was his smallest patient. The other stuck lots of little needles in my back and legs. I purred and fell asleep while everyone stopped by to pet me and say how cute I was. For some reason, it all felt so good and I was happy. My soon-to-be-mom hoped for a miracle and I just hoped that everything would be okay. That night, on our hour and a half drive back to the shelter, my mom cried and talked on her phone…she said she already had two cats and a dog, how would she care for a paraplegic kitten? She asked someone “do people even do that?” I remember her saying “I can’t leave her in the shelter again…she’s coming home…and she’s going to be my baby.” So, that night, two days after that man saved me on the street, I went home.