The Primary Care Hospital is our second home. Not because she is sick or has complications, because the Veterinarians want to make sure she is perfectly fine.
I found my baby in a Yogurtland parking lot roaming for food.
〈 For those of you who do not know me, I am a animal lover. My first cat was given to me at the age of one and he is now 22. My next cats, six to be exact, were because I let them in to my house; each have a unique story. Along with this my first dog I begged my mom to take from an abandoned house, and my puppy dog eyes worked. We had her for years and she was one happy and loyal dog. After she passes, we took a year from dogs because it was difficult to have one take her spot. Eventually, we decided it was a necessity for protection. We ended up going to the small pound and rescuing 2 Lab mixes who were dumped on the side of the road. A few years later I ran into my first baby. He had an embedded collar, mopped hair, and only skin and bones. We took him in to get cleaned up and then took him home. This is just simply put, maybe another time some more details will be spilled.〉
She was at the age where she could walk semi-normal, but should still be cared my her mom. She had to be at least 2 weeks old. I squatted down and this little bambi tried her hardest to run to me. She sounded like a helicopter, and had a look of hope. That is when I knew she was my baby. I looked around to see if anyone else was looking for her, or if any other kittens were around. No luck. I rapped her in a Spiderman blanket and took her back home.
〈At this time I was living in a two bedroom apartment with my best friend and my boyfriend. We signed a contract that specifically said no cats or dogs. But, I decided to look past that. 〉
I placed her in the bathtub with some blankets while I began to cat-proof the apartment. My boyfriend came home and went to wash his face in the bathroom. Not long after he stepped in he yelled my full name, middle name included. The middle name is something your parents yell when you’re in trouble, not your boyfriend! So he came out, and questioned me numerous times. And continuously said no this cannot happen. But, I picked her up and she curled under my neck and began purring. His face lit up and he had an uncontrollable smile on. This is the day everyone fell in love.
We were unsure what to name her. A small, grey stripped tabby who constantly cried and purrs louder than ever. We decided to live with her for a little before we gave her a tag. Pebble. Pebble is simple, smooth and well small and sometimes grey. This fit perfectly. After a few days she began responding to her name and it stuck.
She is now 6 months, and one crazy cat!
Kuriosity Killed the Kat 