I have always been an animal lover, since a young age. My first cat that I can remember didn't come to us - we found her. She was an orangecat, resembling the famous Morris from commercials. When we found her, she was caught in a trap near her ankle. My mother promptly rescuedher, and we rushed Morris to the vet. While there, she was stitched up and sent back home. We brought her back, and nursed her back to health, and I was in love with this sweet kitty. No one seemed to know where she belonged, so we adopted her. As she started to heal, we would occasionally let her outside. She would just wander around and come back inside.
Then one day, she just didn't come back. We couldn't find her anywhere. Through tears, we searched the neighborhood and asked everyone if they had seen her. We didn't find Morris until the next day. She had wandered into our horse pasture, where one of the horses had stepped on her. Her hip area and leg were crushed. We took her back to the vet, and he recommended euthanizing her.
Of course, my mother and I would not hear of it. The vet told us he couldn't put the damage back together, but offered hope if he amputated the leg. We agreed and her back leg was taken off. Morris had a long recovery while her amputated area healed. She had to learn to compensate without a limb and to walk on three legs. She wasn't slowed down for long. Whether it was because she was young, or just had a big heart, soon she was not only navigating with her missing leg, but in fact leaping onto the couches and beds. She would still go outside and chase butterflies on occasion, but was for the most part an indoor cat.
Morris lived for 16 years with us. She was an inspiration for me in overcoming adversity, and the way that my mom valued the life of even one of the smallest creatures. It instilled in me the importance of pets, and while Morris is now long gone, she lives in my memory. When she became too old to navigate on her three legs and could no longer make it to the litter box, we decided it was best to let her rest.
We took her to the vet, and she fell asleep in my mum's arms. Morris was only the beginning of my love affair with cats. I have always had at least one cat in my home, and just recently I found another rescue - a little kitten dropped off at Waffle House on Christmas Day. The story continues with my new kitten, a little black ball of fur that I have named Christmas.
Then one day, she just didn't come back. We couldn't find her anywhere. Through tears, we searched the neighborhood and asked everyone if they had seen her. We didn't find Morris until the next day. She had wandered into our horse pasture, where one of the horses had stepped on her. Her hip area and leg were crushed. We took her back to the vet, and he recommended euthanizing her.
Of course, my mother and I would not hear of it. The vet told us he couldn't put the damage back together, but offered hope if he amputated the leg. We agreed and her back leg was taken off. Morris had a long recovery while her amputated area healed. She had to learn to compensate without a limb and to walk on three legs. She wasn't slowed down for long. Whether it was because she was young, or just had a big heart, soon she was not only navigating with her missing leg, but in fact leaping onto the couches and beds. She would still go outside and chase butterflies on occasion, but was for the most part an indoor cat.
Morris lived for 16 years with us. She was an inspiration for me in overcoming adversity, and the way that my mom valued the life of even one of the smallest creatures. It instilled in me the importance of pets, and while Morris is now long gone, she lives in my memory. When she became too old to navigate on her three legs and could no longer make it to the litter box, we decided it was best to let her rest.
We took her to the vet, and she fell asleep in my mum's arms. Morris was only the beginning of my love affair with cats. I have always had at least one cat in my home, and just recently I found another rescue - a little kitten dropped off at Waffle House on Christmas Day. The story continues with my new kitten, a little black ball of fur that I have named Christmas.
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