This is Wick; he is a “foster fail”. I fostered him and his brother, plus 2 other kittens, from the time they were about 4 1/2 weeks old until about 12 weeks. I took them back to the shelter to be adopted, but when I returned about 5 days later, he was still there, all alone. (I suspect because he didn’t get adopted quickly because he wasn’t as affectionate as the others. ) I couldn’t leave him there again for a second time, so now he’s MINE. He’s a beautiful soft, dark brown cat, rescued from a house with dozens of cats and kittens AND NO LITTER BOXES. As a tiny kitten, he was always the most anxious about defending his food; plus he also would get a poopy butt, because his tail was crooked and he had difficulty holding it out of the way. (Plus, of course, he didn’t know how to use a litter box.) He was my “problem child”, hence why I felt I had to keep him. I have no idea why, but I love him.
Have 5 cats here, all rescues and their own hard luck tales. Closest thing to a “Nala” is my recent rescue, Gus, who I rescued from my own block. I live in an Arizona desert area where homeless cats have only days or weeks to live because of our population of Red Tailed Hawks, Owls, and Coyotes. LOTS of coyotes.
I noticed a friendly gray tabby wandering around the area and I knocked on a lot of doors. No one claimed him. So I made it my mission to bring him in. He was a regular on our block, but once I made this decision, I didn’t see him for nearly a month. Then he came down the sidewalk one day. He looked pretty skinny and hungry. I followed him around for over an hour before I found a chance to pick him up and carry him home. He squirmed a bit at first, then settled down for the ride. I think he knew I wanted to help.
I was going to give Gus up to a favored local shelter, but I couldn’t part with him. He’s been at my side now for 5 years. He’s my best buddy. We both are very lucky.