Pet Pal of the Week
This week's featured pet is Stormy, a sweet 6-year-old female.
I was born on a dark and - you guessed it - stormy night. The wind was howling - the thunder was - well - thundering - and the rain was pounding against the walls of the flimsy shed where my poor wretched Mother gave birth to me and my siblings. My Mother was Royalty - a Russian Blue Princess. My Father was equally high born - a Duke of Tabby or something like that and they were impossibly in love and were torn apart by an evil Stepmother. Or something like that.
What? Hey - can you prove it’s not true? What? Oh - alright... So - my Mother wasn’t Royalty - but she WAS a Russian Blue named Princess. And - ok - my Father was just some fat lazy tom cat down the street named Buster who - um - got my mother IN TROUBLE when she slipped out of the house one night unattended. What? Sigh - And we were born in a nice cardboard box lined by a soft towel in the - ok - dry basement of my mother’s house. But - hey - a girl can dream can’t she?
Which is what I do a lot of actually. See – I’ve been at the shelter for over five months and I can’t spend all my time dreaming of a home to call my own though I do that a lot. I can almost see your face and I’ve imagined all of the things we’ll do together. A comfy place to curl up, a scratching post, a sunny window so that I can watch the world go by…
And - Hey – who’s to say it wasn’t a dark and stormy night... I AM named Stormy aren’t I?