07/11/2023
Over the next few months, I'm going to be sharing stories of the stray animals I have adopted, or taken in and fostered until I could find them homes.
This is the first of those stories. It seemed appropriate to start with the first stray I ever took in.
Rescue Story #1 - Nosy
I was in grade school the first time I took in a stray. If this were a work of fiction and I were the main character, I'd probably write something about how I knew, even then, that it was my mission in life, my sacred, God-given calling, to help the stray animals of the world.
But it wasn't like that. I was in either the 4th or 5th grade. I had no particular feeling of calling or mission, I was just a kid and I came across a kitten who needed a home. I had a home that had room for a kitten and I kind of wanted a pet of my own. My family had a cat, but it was the family cat. She was a sweet kitty and we got along well, but she wasn't my cat. (The family cat was part Manx. She had a stub of a tail about 3 inches long. It was actually kind of endearing. Real Manxes have no tail at all. This one would move her tail the way other cats do but without the graceful sweep of a full length tail, it always looked like an irritated swipe.) I had friends who had their own cats and dogs and I thought it might be nice if I had a cat that was mine.
I don't remember all the details of finding her. I remember that she was a kitten, though she wasn't a very young kitten. She was on the cusp of kitty adolescence and she was alone in my neighborhood. At the time, I had never seen a cat with markings like hers. She was a tabby, but a mix of orange and gray tabby. The way the colors alternated reminded me of a calico. Random patches, but instead of solid colors, there were varied areas of orange tabby stripes and gray tabby stripes.
Up until then, I'd had hamsters as pets and had aquariums, but neither hamsters nor fish are known for being terribly affectionate. I have heard stories of fish who seemed particularly attached to their owners, but I've never experienced it.
From the first, this kitten made it clear that I was her person.
I named her Nosy. It's a name that fit her quite well, as I'll explain, but I didn't know how she'd act when I named her. I got the name from a Henry Huggins book I'd read not long before finding this cat. He had a kitten he named Nosy and I liked the name. It was a simple as that.
If I left the house on my skateboard, she stayed behind. If I left the house on my bike, she stayed behind. If I left on foot, as often as not, she'd follow me. She followed me all over the neighborhood.
Sometimes, she'd follow me to a friend's house and find a nice shady place to hang out. When I came out, she'd be waiting there and would hop up and follow me. She didn't want to be carried. She didn't want to walk beside me. She wanted to follow. It was kind of cute.
My 6th grade year, I had a girlfriend who lived on the next street over.
Over the summer time, when we were going to hang out, we'd coordinate leaving our houses at the same time, and walk to the alley between our streets. When we'd walk towards each other and meet in the middle. One pleasant afternoon, as we met up and hugged, I felt something against my leg. I looked down and there was Nosy, between us, standing on my foot and rubbing against my leg.
If there had been any doubt up to the that point that her name should be Nosy, that laid the doubts to rest.
She was a good kitty. She was the one who showed me how pets can show a preference for people. She showed me obvious affection, something that I didn't know for sure, up to that point, that animals could do. I'd kind of grown to that point with the impression that animals were not as emotionally complex as I now know them to be.
When I moved out of my parents' house, many years later, I didn't take Nosy with me. She was over 10 years old and she was used to having a house with a yard in a housing complex. I was moving to a 2-bedroom apartment, with a couple occupying the other room. They already had 5 cats and a dog in that apartment. I didn't think Nosy would do well there. The apartment complex was right on the edge of a busy city street and a freeway. I was afraid she'd feel cramped in the apartment, but I didn't think it would good to let her out to wander.
When I came home to visit, Nosy would invariably show up, usually within just a few minutes, and sit in my lap. I don't know how to explain it, but her body language as she sat there was clear. She was telling the world, "This is my person. He's home, and I'm not letting him go anywhere."
It's been my experience that animals who have been stray and then taken in are appreciative. I don't know quite how to explain it. I know that having to scrounge for food and shelter stresses an animal out. Maybe when they're taken in, they feel relief at having shelter and food readily available and maybe that feeling gets associated in their minds with the people who took them in.
I don't know, but I've seen their appreciation numerous times and I've talked to others who have seen it too.
Nosy was the first cat to show me this and as I explained above, she was the first cat to show me that animals love. So even though I wasn't on a mission to save strays when I took her in, I think she showed me the first inklings of the feelings that would lead me to want to save strays.
Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed this story or it moved you in anyway, please consider sharing it. If I am going to build an organization to save cats like Nosy, I need to expand my audience and let people know what I'm about.
