Your Furry Valentine Contest Winner - 2008

I am not a cat person. Maybe you can see where this is going
just from that sentence, but in my case, it's true. My
childhood pet was a sturdy little Norwich Terrier (who looked a
little like the love child of Toto from the Wizard of Oz and
Duncan McTavish, the Westhighland terrier who fought crime). I
thought I would always have a dog in my life, preferably just
like the one I'd had when I was little. My love of dogs led me
to the local animal shelter where I volunteered to walk and
socialize the dogs. I enjoyed working with them, both the
behaviorally challenged ones and the sweet tempered ones.

After volunteering there for several months, the shelter
director offered me a job. I was happy to work there, though it
was the hardest job I've ever had, both emotionally and
physically. Like anyone who has worked at a shelter, the
stories I have are both devastating and inspiring. I held a
tiny kitten over a vaporizer as it gasped its last breaths; I
pulled a three-week-old kitten out of a sealed tupperware
container that had been left on the shelter steps; I watched as
a badly beaten dog was euthanized while its owner was simply
reprimanded. I also saw a cat who was hit by a car learn to
walk with only two legs, becoming the friskiest cat in the
cattery; I saw a dog who growled and bit out of fear from abuse
learn to trust and love being petted and held; I watched a cat
with only one eye get adopted by a four year old girl who
thought he was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen.

There are so many love stories from my time at the shelter, but
only one has become lifelong; that's the love story of me and a
cat named Minky. I saw a homeless, sick, and sad little cat,
weighing only four pounds and missing part of her ear, come
into the shelter after complications with a forced spaying.
She'd been caught from a feral cat colony outside of a trailer
park. When she was spayed, the vet discovered that, even though
she was only about four months old, she was already pregnant.
Her complications led her to a slow recovery at the shelter
where I worked. Minky always rolled over in her cage to say
hello when I came in, and she always tried to grab a sip from
my Starbucks travel cup (to this day she tries to drink my coffee).

I'm not sure what exactly it was that made her stand out from
the other 106 cats who all had strong and moving stories. Maybe
it was that, even when sick, she had the softest fur in the
world. Or that she would follow me with her eyes as I moved
around the shelter, making chirping sounds if I came near her
cage (she had the cage in the uppermost right corner, on a wall
of 54 occupied cat cages). It could also be that, no matter how
many times I had to give her pills, injections, or clean her
ears, she never bit me, scratched me, or even narrowed her
bright green eyes at me. She always purred. She still does. She
came to the shelter nameless and I came to call her Mink,
because of her soft fur and because, as she got healthier, she
would try to ride around on my shoulders like an expensive
stole. She melted me. She sleeps on her back, curled in a ball,
and purrs every second of her life.

When I left the shelter to take a full time teaching job, I had
to take her with me. I couldn't bear the thought of her waking
up, excited to sneak a sip of coffee and chirp at me as I
worked, only to find me not there. When I brought her home, I
thought she would hide for a little while, but she walked the
perimeter of the house, then came to curl up in my lap. Now,
she lives not only with me, but with my husband and two small
children. She wraps her little paws around their heads while
they watch television and she grooms them, licking big clumps
of their hair and purring loudly. They love it and are
disgusted by it. She's still never bitten or scratched anyone,
and her motor is always running.

Sometimes we think about her life before she came to our
family, about what the E! True Hollywood Story of Minky would
be like. Truth is, she's the most gentle, kind little animal
I've ever known. Now, when people ask me if I'm a cat person, I
tell them I'm a Minky person. I couldn't leave her there in the
shelter, but she's given me more than I've given her. She makes
every day of our lives better by gracing us with her purr. We
all love our pets this much; I'm so grateful she's mine.