If you could make your pet understand one thing, what would it be?
Fourteen years ago, we looked for a kitten after our cat Callie died. There weren’t any kittens at the Dumb Friends League, a really well-run shelter in Denver. My husband found another shelter that did have a few kittens. He liked Stormy, a ten-month old black cat, and a dilute “tortie” kitten. He let me choose which one to adopt.
Of all colors, black cats reportedly have the lowest adoption rates and highest euthanasia rates. For that reason, I chose Stormy.
I don’t know Stormy’s history, but I don’t think she was socialized much in the shelter. She is much more skittish than any cat we’ve ever had. My husband was able to get her to sit on his lap right away, but it took a while for her to warm up to me.
Stormy is so sweet, I call her my little angel. She doesn’t meow much, and she doesn’t beg to be fed constantly, unlike our younger cat, Misty.
I have bonded with Stormy. She is sitting on my legs as I write. She has trained me to follow her to the guest bedroom in the basement when she wants to be petted.
Stormy is still afraid to be picked up. If I could make her understand one thing, it is that I will never hurt her.
Innermost Being 