Scotty, DSH, Orange & White Tiger, Male

Hi, my name is Scotty. I'm a sweetheart. I don't know why life has been so rough, but I'm trying to be a man and not mind. It's hard though, because I just want so much to belong to somebody who will never, ever abandon me. Do you think that's too big of a prayer? I'll try to be strong even if it's hard.

When I was just a baby, my mother tried to feed me as long as she could, but pretty soon I was on my own on a very mean street. There was a dumpster there, though, thank goodness. In spite of being only a few weeks old, I somehow got into it and found something like food to eat.

Then all of a sudden a kind lady came by. She lifted me out of the dumpster and cared for me for SIX whole years! She loved cats and took in 27 more of us, but her home didn't seem crowded at all. It was a little bit of heaven with lots of cat toys, our own little beds, sunny spots to sleep, good food, and above all, lots of love. I was awfully happy...

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Sherral, DSH, White, Female, 1.5 years, FeLK +
Blue, DSH, Orange Tiger, Male, 3 years, FeLK +

Sherral and Blue are not siblings, but they share the same life story and a very deep bond. Hurricane Katrina touched them both very darkly and in much the same way. They are true survivors. Although they will never be well physically, their spirits are unbroken and they thrive on the love and tender care given them.

Blue is a king-sized fellow, three years old now and as orange as the rising sun. Whether he always lived on the street, or was made homeless by the hurricane, no one knows. In the wake of Katrina a kind woman found him in such sorry shape that she immediately took him to a vet who took one look at him and urged her to euthanize the cat. Starvation had taken too terrible toll, he thought. As if that weren't enough, Blue had contracted leukemia/Aids.

The lady had loved Blue the moment she found him. At the vet's grim words, she broke into tears. The doctor felt so sorry for the two of them that he told her that there might be a way to save the poor cat. There was one unique place that might take Blue, in spite of his severe problems. It was a wonderful shelter called SpayMart. And take Blue they did. Because of his illness, he wasn't able to be with uninfected cats, so the people at SpayMart gave him the run of a small apartment at their Mississippi shelter, where volunteers sometimes stayed. He was glad to have a roof over him again and lots of square meals, too, but he couldn't help but be a little lonesome. The apartment was empty so much of the time...

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Smitzie, DSH, Silver Tabby, Male, 8 years

Hi, my name is Smitzie. I used to live in a real mansion on Airline Highway. There were a LOT of bedrooms, each with its own door and nice "do not disturb" signs for the doorknobs, and private baths, too (even though people had long ago stolen all the little soaps and towels). I lived there with a colony of other cats, including my mother and father and my five sisters and brothers. We loved the place. It had definitely seen better days when the people with suitcases lounged on the beds, watched TV, and ordered pizza or Chinese, but we truly enjoyed it just the way it was, sort of settling into seedy obscurity. Let me tell you, rundown hotel life (when there are no employees or visitors) is the best a homeless kitty could ask for: we always had a pretty good roof over our heads, fairly good walls to keep the cold winds and rain out, windows everywhere looking out on delicious-I mean, entertaining-birds, beds all over the place for napping and a non-stop supply of mice-I mean, protein. We all thought our accommodations were superb.

I guess nothing that good can last. One day we woke to extreme danger!! A horrible sound of machines outside, louder and louder as an army of trucks advanced on us. A demolition team!!!! Coming right for our hotel!!!!

"Women and children first!" our general cried as I and the other boys in our militia tried to lead everyone to safety...

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Spot, DSH Black & White, Female, 8 years

Hello, my name is Spot. I'm a Domestic Short Hair, female cat, but sometimes I feel as heroic as a fireman's dog, you know the white ones with black spots? It's not just because I look like one on the outside; I think I'm like one on the inside, too, where it counts. At 8 years old, I've been through a huge test of my courage and will to live: a real five-alarm horror.

I had a home. I lived with an elderly lady who cared for me and 11 other cats. But one day she died and we were left with no one to help us. She must have been such a lonely person with no one to love her except us. Nobody knew. Nobody came....

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Suzy Q, DSH Grey & White, Female, DECLAWED, 4 years

People say I have an old attitude that I'm bad, but those who really know me realize I'm just a little mischievous - in a good way. Now I must say, felines do get on her nerves and remember - should they need to be put in their place,

I'm at a real disadvantage having no claws. Consequently my back has to be much worse than my bite. That can be our little secret....

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