rescue stories

I used to know when to run.

The voices would change first. Then the shouting would begin. The couple who lived with us fought often. Sometimes things flew across the room. Sometimes they hurt each other. Furniture and appliances were broken. I never knew what would happen next.

So I watched. I listened. And when I was frightened, I went up—as high as I could get, somewhere nobody could easily reach me. And somewhere along the way, the people we had lived with were no longer there.

Other people came every few days to clean up and give us food. But between those visits, we were hungry. There was not enough food. The air was stale, and we had nowhere properly clean to live or go to the toilet.

There were fourteen of us cats at first. Then one ran away. Then another. One died. And someone came and took away her body.

And the rest of us, we were still there. Waiting.

Later, I heard that one of the cats that ran away had died. Someone had brutally murdered him.

The Woman Who Kept Coming Back

One day, a woman arrived with a group of people.

I know her as Angel Mum now. I did not know that then.

Several cats went away with them. But when someone came towards me, I ran up the kitchen window. I could balance on narrow ledges. I could get out onto the bamboo poles beyond.

Being high up was frightening too. Being caught was worse. Angel Mum could not simply walk over and pick me up. I made quite sure of that. But she came back.

Twice a day, every day, for two months. She brought food. She changed our water. She opened the place to let the air move. At night, she left the lights on and the fan running.

I watched her do these things. She would come. Then she would leave. And then she would come back again.

At first, I kept my distance. But gradually, I began to recognise her footsteps, her voice, the way she moved around us.

One day, I let her touch my head. Only a little pat. That might not sound like much to you. For me, it was a very big thing. It did not mean I was ready for everything that happened next.

Scottie Was There

The day I went into the carrier, I was terrified. I struggled. My eyes were wide. I wanted to get away, to get up somewhere high, to find any route that did not end inside that small space. But I was put into it. The door closed.

I did not understand that I was being taken somewhere safe. I only knew that I could not escape. When the journey ended, I found myself in another place, in a very large cage.

And Scottie was there.

Scottie. I knew him. He came from the same place I did. Everything smelled different. Everything sounded different. I did not know this room or what was going to happen to me.

But I knew Scottie.

I could settle beside him. I could look at him and find something familiar in a world that had changed all at once. Then came the doctor.

I would like to say I handled that with dignity. I did not. I was so frightened that I ran around the room and peed everywhere. I could not make sense of the strange place, the unfamiliar people or what they wanted to do to me. I wanted to get away.

Eventually, I was back with Scottie.

There were more visits to the doctor. I had a lot of things wrong with me, although I did not know their names. I only knew there were treatments, unfamiliar hands and journeys I did not want to make.

Once, I had surgery. Afterwards, I felt groggy and sore. Gradually, the grogginess passed. The pain passed too.

But Scottie was gone.

What Had She Done with My Friend?

I was furious with Angel Mum. She had taken me away. Things had happened that I did not understand. And now I could not find Scottie. I turned my back on her. I grumbled. I nagged. As far as I was concerned, she had taken away the one friend who made any of this bearable. I did not want her attention.

I wanted Scottie.

While we were apart, I kept scratching beneath my chin, down the underside of my throat. The fur came away. The skin became raw and bloody.

Angel Mum had to take me to the vet again, this time to treat the damage I had done by scratching. I could not tell her what I needed. She could see my injured skin, hear my grumbling and watch me turn away from her. What I wanted was my familiar friend beside me.

Then I discovered something. Scottie had not gone away at all. We had been moved into new cages—one above the other. And Scottie was downstairs. All that time, my friend was still there.

We reached our paws through the bars whenever we could. Again and again, there he was: familiar, close enough to touch. All day and all night long we could reach out to each other.

We did not stay apart for long. I was very relieved. Angel Mum’s standing improved considerably.

A Bigger World

Eventually, we were both well enough to come out of our cages. Scottie and I had been getting better. Then our world became much bigger. There were so many cats at CatsHope™.

Some were already quite at home. Others were newcomers, still finding their feet. Over time, cats came and went, while Scottie and I learned our way around the sanctuary.

We were also learning the routines—what was allowed, what was not, and how to live alongside everyone else. There were places to explore and other cats to get to know. There were rules too. Apparently, living together meant considering opinions besides my own. I am still working on that.

At first, having Scottie beside me made everything easier. We could investigate together. If I was unsure, I could stay close to him. But gradually, I began to find my own place among the others. I learned who would let me settle beside them. I learned the familiar rhythms of the house and what Angel Mum expected of us. I did not get everything right immediately. Sometimes I still do not. But I was becoming part of the household.

For a cat who had once spent his days trying to stay out of reach, there was something rather wonderful about discovering how many companions were now within reach.

Finding My Place

Scottie and I are still a pair.

We arrive together. We leave together. Sometimes we walk so close that our bodies touch and our tails become entwined.

Angel Mum says we look like a tiny marching band. She also says we are like a naggy old married couple. I think that is unfair.

There would be much less nagging if Scottie understood that when I want his company, walking into another room does not settle the matter. I follow him. If he moves again, I follow him again. Sometimes I have to explain my position all the way down the house.

But I have made other friends too. If Scottie is not interested, I can sidle up beside another cat and lie down. I do not always need to make an announcement. Sometimes I just settle myself into an available space.

One of the guys. That was something I had to learn: there could be more than one cat I felt safe beside. There could be trusted humans too.

My world slowly became bigger. I learned to play. Soccer is a particular favourite. I learned that I could ask for affection. And I learned that if I had something important to say, my raspy “meeeeyyy” could make sure Angel Mum heard it. I learned I could sleep on a soft bed with humans too.

I am the youngest permanent resident here. The baby of the family. I see no reason to give up that position.

I found a new mum too. Tami. And a new brother, Rockie. I like to lie side by side with Scottie, Rockie or Tami. Having someone close makes it easier to settle. I do not always need to say anything. Sometimes being beside them is enough. Somewhere along the way, I had found myself a family.

Then Buddy arrived. At first, I was not sure whether he was staying. Cats came and went, and I did not see why a newcomer should immediately have access to all my favourite places. So I tried to make the boundaries clear.

Buddy had ideas of his own. When he showed me how firmly he intended to stand his ground, I screamed and ran to Angel Mum. There is no shame in taking a serious matter directly to management.

Then I discovered that Buddy was staying. Permanently. Apparently, we were both permanent residents, and I was going to have to get used to that.

How I Found Myself Again

I still get frightened.

Sometimes something happens that I did not expect, and my confidence disappears. My eyes widen. I run. If I am very frightened, I can still climb the window grille right up towards the ceiling. Sometimes I pee when I panic.

My body remembers how to be afraid, even when I am somewhere safe. But there is a difference now. There are familiar voices. There is food, clean water and a place to rest. There are people who know me, and cats I can lie beside. There is Scottie.

And there is Angel Mum, who kept coming back long before I understood why. This is why I stay at CatsHope™.

Another house would mean leaving much more than a room. It would mean leaving Scottie, my other companions, my routines and the humans I have learned to trust. These are the things that helped me feel safe enough to become myself.

The serious face. The raspy voice. The soccer player. The affectionate, particular little cat who occasionally has a very long complaint to deliver.

I used to spend so much of my life looking for a way to get away. Now, most days, I am looking for someone to lie beside. That is how I found myself again.

Some do not learn stillness. They learn where they can remain.