I wait and wait for someone to want me. I have claimed the top shelf in the shelter as mine. I curl up and watch all the activity below, day after day after day. Cats and kittens are all over the place. Every day people come and pick out a favorite. The next day they return and take their favorite home with them. The shelter does not feel like home. Why am I never chosen? There must be something dreadfully wrong with me. Is that why my family left me on the doorstep downtown?

One day I hear someone say, “I’m M, and I am looking for a special cat.” I know that leaves me out. I do feel sorry for her, however. The cats, and especially the kittens, pounce all over her and yowl. She keeps peeling them off. Then she looks up, straight into my eyes. She comes closer, gently reaches up her hand, and in a soft voice she says, “You are so beautiful. You are the one I choose.” I sniff her fingers and, in that moment, I choose her.

I want to go right now with this soft-spoken woman. But she leaves me behind. Will she return?

She is there, bright and early, the next morning. The helper puts me in a box. “I had no idea Sterling was so heavy!” M says as she tries to carry me to the car. If I’m too heavy, will she keep me? I don’t like the box, even though it has openings. It feels like a cage, and I want out. It isn’t even big enough for me to turn around.

What is going to happen to me? I don’t really know this person, M. Where are we going? Will I like my new home? Will I get fed? What if I don’t like the food? What if there are no cats and kittens for me to watch? Will there be a place I can call my own? And I have to go to the litter box, soon!

I feel the car moving and I begin to yell, and I do mean yell! M talks non-stop in a soothing voice. I scream so loudly I only hear her when I stop to catch my breath. M turns on music. I yell even louder, so she turns off the music. It is then I see a finger poking through a hole in the box. The finger is wiggling. I sniff it and stop howling. Just like that.



We can feel lonely with lots of others around. We may feel “not okay.” It is easy to give up hope.
We need to hear a voice that says, “I choose you.”
And the touch of a finger - or a paw - means so much.


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