This was meant to be a quick warm up, but it turned into a comic that
I’ve wanted to draw for a while. This is something that is extremely
important to me, and I appreciate it if you read it.
A while ago, I heard a story that broke my heart. A family went a cat
shelter to adopt. The daughter fell in love with a 3-legged cat. The father straight up said “absolutely not”. Because he was missing a leg. That cat was that close to having a family that loved him, but the missing leg held him back. Why?!
Many people have the initial instinct of “nope” when they see an
imperfect animal. I get it, but less-adoptable does NOT mean less
loveable. 9 out of 10 people will choose a kitten over an adult cat. And
those 10% that would get an adult cat often overlook “different”
All I want people to do is be open to the idea of having a “different” pet in their lives. Choose the pet that you fall in love with, but at least give all of them a fair shot at winning your heart.
Don’t dismiss them, they deserve a loving home just as much as any
other cat. They still purr, they still love a warm lap, they still play,
they still love you. Trust me, next time you are in the market for a
new kitty, just go over to that one cat that’s missing an eye and see
what he’s all about!
Let me tell to you a thing.
This is Lenore. I first saw her in a little cage at the Petco I
frequent (I used to take my parents’ dog in for puppy play time), and
she looked like the grouchiest, old, crotchety cat in the
world, and I fell instantly in love. She was cranky, she was
anti-social, hanging out at the back of her cage. Her fur was matted
because she wouldn’t let the groomers near her.
She was perfect.
But I didn’t have a place for her. I wasn’t living in my own space
yet, and where I was, I wasn’t allowed cats. So I pressed my face to the
bars of her cage and I promised that if no one had adopted her by the
time I’d bought a house, I would come back for her.
I visited her every week for over six months while I looked
for a house. At one point, they had to just shave her entire rear-end
because the mats or fur were so bad. They told me she clawed the heck
outta the groomer that did it, screamed the entire time, and spent the
next two days growling at anyone that came near the cage.
A couple of weeks later, I closed on my house. I went back and I got an employee, and I said: “That one. I need that cat.”
They got the paperwork and the lady who ran the rescue that was
bringing the cats in told me that Lenore (at the time, Lila) was 8 years
old, had been owned by an elderly lady who had died, and brought in to a
different rescue, who’d had her for six months on top of the time I’d
been seeing her at Petco.
This kitty had been living in a 3x3’ cube for over a YEAR because she was older and “less adoptable.”
I signed the paperwork, put her in a cat carrier, and drove her to my
new home. I had pretty much nothing; a bed, an old couch, a couple of
bookcases, and a tank of mice I called “Cat TV”. I let her out of the
carrier and onto my bed, and I told her “I told you I would come back
for you when I had a place. It’s not much, but it’s yours too now.”
Lenore spent the next three days straight purring non-stop. She
followed me around the house purring. Sat next to me purring. Slept next
to me purring. Leaning into every touch, purring, purring, always
purring. She still purrs if you so much as think about petting her.
She’s amazing, and I love her.
So, you know, if you’re thinking about adopting, and you see a beast that others consider “less adoptable,” think about Lenore.