I already had two cats. But my 16 year old was in kidney failure, and while I wanted to stay in denial, I thought maybe I should start looking for a friend for my four-year old female. With half a heart I got onto a website, entered my VERY specific criteria (baby, small, male, black, special needs) and thought that if my criteria was met, it was meant to be. Around eight months later an email popped up with a picture of a four month old, small male black cat that had to have his right rear leg amputated from being hit by a car. I knew right then that the universe wanted me to adopt this little guy. I went that day to the shelter and told them I wanted to see "Stretch." They were so excited that he had a potential adopter. I picked him up; he put his little head right in my palm, closed his eyes, and started purring. I brought him home that day. I thought he needed a "tougher" name for all that he had been through, so I re-named him Thor. I lost my 16 year old two months later, so now I am back to two. He's a mommy's boy, loves to be held and is my shadow around the house. I've learned his cues when he has an itch on his right side and he needs me to scratch it for him. Only having three legs doesn't slow this little guy down at all! He runs up the stairs and climbs the cat trees like a wild banshee. Thor is a rambunctious one year old, and his older sister sometimes gets irritated with him, but it's all good.
Mary Ann WalterBEREA, OH
