THE PURRRFECT PRIDE

Another Thread in My Storytelling

Some of the best stories I know have paws, whiskers, and a way of walking into your life like they own the place.

The Purrrfect Pride is where my love of writing, animals, and making the world a little kinder come together. Through stories inspired by cats, rescue, second chances, and the small creatures who teach us big lessons, this space celebrates the love, humor, resilience, and quiet wisdom animals bring into our lives.

Because sometimes the clearest reminders of what matters most do not come from grand moments or perfect answers.

Sometimes they come from a cat curled at your feet, a rescue learning to trust, a tiny life given another chance, or the unexpected bond that reminds us to be more patient, more compassionate, and more human.

This is storytelling with heart, whiskers, and purpose — created to entertain, inspire, and support a world where animals are seen, valued, protected, and loved.

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The Faces Behind the Name

First, there were 2 and then . .

How the Purrrfect Pride came to be and how it became the name for what should have been a long time ago.

FIRST, THERE WERE 2 -
GINGER & GIGI

During one of our errand runs, Tony and I unexpectedly came across an adoption event. Intrigued, we decided to explore and see what they had to offer. Little did we anticipate the profound impact this visit would have on us. Upon entering the room, we were greeted by a swarm of adorable kittens. Unable to resist, we sat on the floor and engaged in playful interactions with them.

Two kittens captured our hearts: a lively, orange one and her more reserved, darker sister, who sought comfort behind me. Deciding which one to bring home was a challenge. After over an hour of contemplation and with the shyer kitten now cuddling with Tony, we requested that neither be adopted until our return.

We had a pre-scheduled appointment that day, so we had to leave. Two hours later, we returned and adopted both of the kittens. Each left a mark on our hearts in their own way, preventing us from choosing between them. Our only concern had been an older cat, Ty, who was part of our family. But somehow we knew he would love them both just as much as we did. And he did.

The two furry little ladies soon became known as "The G girls"!

Ty, sadly, passed soon after.

THEN WE BECAME 5
WITH RAZA, ASHA & KIBOU

During COVID-19, life provided us both with the opportunity to volunteer. With Tony's support, and given my love of animals, it was only natural that I decided to spend my time at a local animal shelter. However, Tony asked for one thing: no free samples. Happily, I agreed. At the shelter, I naturally gravitated to caring for the cats and small animals; however, I would help in the dog area as time permitted. I would spend a few mornings each week at the shelter, help with the spay/neuter clinic they had for both dogs and cats, and then Tony and I would tag-team the night service one or two nights each week. A few months in, I was asked to foster a litter of five 4-week-old kittens. Of course, I said, “Yes!” Tony's so-called straightforward rule was broken.

The litter was so precious, each member with its personality, all loving uniquely.

One was a cuddler who loved to “break free” and explore new rooms.

One was super sweet and looked after the others.

One made you laugh and seemed to oversee ensuring the others kept the litter box up to his standards.

One was a little princess.

One loved to tousle with her brothers.

All of them had Herpes.

Eventually, the kittens were properly and safely introduced to the fully vaccinated two girls we had at home. We thought GiGi, who was always mothering Ginger, would immediately bond with the kittens. However, much to our surprise, that was not the case. Ginger, the daring, outgoing, “hold my beer” cat, became their Auntie Momma, cleaning them, showing them the ropes, and correcting them when they misbehaved. The kittens adored Ginger and took to her immediately. They followed Ginger around like a celebrity, earning her the nickname “Queen G.” GiGi was not as open but eventually came around to them.

When the litter reached 8 weeks of age, they were old enough to be adopted, and therefore scheduled to be returned to the shelter for such. Saddened, I lobbied Tony to let them stay with us, which, frankly, was not a hard sell. Once again, we could not decide which to keep, and Tony felt that adding all five would be too many, especially if we planned to continue fostering. With tears in our eyes, the litter was brought to the shelter, and eventually adopted to loving homes; I made sure of it.

The day after the litter of five was brought to the shelter to be placed up for adoption, I received a frantic call. The shelter had received a call about a litter of three one-week-old bottle babies that needed help. The bottle babies needed a foster home right away. I knew it would not be an easy task to take them on - their kitty mom had been ill, they were so very little, and the shelter wasn't sure if the smallest of the litter would survive, as he was unable to maintain his body temperature. But, despite that, I knew I had to take them. Immediately, and without any questions, I took the litter home, determined to give them a fighting chance.

The kittens were so tiny, each barely the size of a field mouse.

They needed names, something to show them love and that they were wanted, something to give them hope. And so they became The Litter of Hope, each of them given a name meaning “hope” in a language other than English. Raza, the smallest of the litter, was hope in Swahili. He looked like a little black-and-white stick figure with a pot belly, and he could not maintain his body temperature. Tony would hold him close to his chest for hours, trying to use his body heat to keep the little guy warm, his temperature up.

Kibou, his similarly colored brother, was hope in Japanese. Kibou would yelp and cry whenever he was not eating or being stimulated to pee or poop. I would spend hour after hour, day after day, walking the halls with him, trying to soothe him as you would a colicky infant.

Asha, the Hindu word for hope, was reserved for the only girl in the litter. Asha is black as night, and as lovable as she is strong-willed. Her claws would be like daggers digging into my fingers to hold on as she suckled the bottle.

We refused to give up on these little kittens, despite the odds stacked against them. It did not take us long to know that if Raza survived, we were keeping him. Shortly thereafter, Kibou was going to be a keeper as well. And as for Asha, she already seemed to be my spirit animal.

And with that, "The G girls" became "The Furry Five"!

For whatever reason, these kittens were given a second chance and ended up where they needed to be. With love and care, all of them not only survived but thrived, and before all of that, they became a part of us. Today, not only are they a wonderful part of our family, but they are a constant reminder that sometimes, even in the darkest times, there is hope.

AND WITH WOLF & DANA, 7 BECAME THE COUNT

One evening, Tony and I were on our screened-in deck, laughing over the beautiful experience we had that day while visiting the zoo with our son. It began to rain. I saw something under our birdfeeder that looked out of place. At first, I thought it was one of the raccoons or perhaps a squirrel. Tony agreed, but he wasn't sure either. Through the pitter-patter of raindrops, I could hear a faint mew. And then another. It was a cat.

Without a thought, clad in nothing but shorty pajamas, I went to it. It was a skinny, tiny little thing, but not a kitten. It had no collar. The animal responded to my voice and inched closer to me. When Tony arrived with a can of cat food, the cat darted into the small crawl space underneath our shed, poking its head out, then pulling it back in, like it was a turtle and the shed its shell. As Tony turned away, the cat came out to take a few bites. . . about 3 feet from him. . . and purring. The pitter-patter of the rain quickly changed to rushing water. The cat darted back under the shed, safe from the rain. Quickly, we slid the food under the shed and retreated to our own safe place. Sleep did not find us that evening, as our concern for this little cat, now called "Houdini", grew.

As soon as the sun came up, I returned to our backyard. Without saying a word, Houdini made another appearance. I thought Houdini might be a female. She purred, would rub on me and love on me, and eat whatever food I gave her almost as fast as I put it out.

Within two days of arriving in our yard, the cat began to spend all of her time under our deck, cuddled on a makeshift bed we made for her, only leaving to go to the tree line to go potty. We visited her whenever we could. Not knowing her history, we washed, sanitized, and changed clothes each time we visited with her so as not to introduce any potential illness to the cats who resided inside our home.

She had to belong to someone. I asked around my neighborhood. Tony drove the area in search of a sign with her picture on it. We posted about her on the Nextdoor app. No family found. I made an appointment with our vet to check whether she was microchipped; unfortunately, it was a few days away.

One evening, a raccoon decided to pay Houdini a visit under our deck. That night, we moved the cars out of our garage and moved Houdini into a large crate there. The next morning I called the vet as the appointment became more urgent as I now believed Houdini to be pregnant and we had to leave town for a family emergency.

What I hoped would be a microchip scan and a family reunion turned into a completely different kind of vet visit. Not only was Houdini not microchipped, but she was also pregnant, so she could only receive certain vaccinations. To top it off, the vet did not have the space to board her for our trip, nor did anywhere else I called.

And so she came home with me. "Houdini" officially became Dina. Our son would have to watch over her while we were gone.

Dina had to live in our office, separated from the other 5 cats, until she could have her litter. Without thinking about what channel was on, I put on the TV so she would have noise. The following day, before we left town, I realized we had left the poor cat watching scary news on CNN. When I entered the room, I found Dina sitting on the arm of the couch with her paws crossed, watching the television. When I went to change the channel, she yelled at me.

And that is what happened each time we tried to change the channel to anything other than CNN. One month later, little Dina gave birth to four kittens. Given Dina's love for CNN, we named the kittens Jake (Tapper), Anderson (Cooper), and Wolf (Blitzer), and the only girl was Dana (Bash).

During the time until the birth, we bonded with this amazing, loveable, and friendly cat. We knew from the moment we found out Dina was pregnant that we had no intention of keeping any of the kittens for ourselves. We had, however, hoped to keep Dina. Unfortunately, that would not be possible.

Once allowed to see them, our five cats were accepting of the new kittens; however, three of the five wanted nothing to do with Dina. Therefore, we would try to find good homes for all of them, knowing full well that if we could not, we would keep whoever was left. In late September, the kittens were weaned, all had the appropriate vaccinations, and were adopted out - complete with certificates for the rest of their immunizations and for a spay/neuter. Dina, however, was spayed before she went with her new and wonderful adoptive Mom.

One week after Dina and the CNN litter went to their new homes, I received an urgent text. The person who adopted both Dana and Wolf could no longer care for them. Tony left work, bought a new carrier, and went to pick up the kittens. It was meant to be. Wolf and Dana would be staying with us.

Wolf is a carbon copy of his fantastic birth mother.

Dana is a sweet, beautiful fluffball. She is darker than both Dina and her brother, with eyes that melt our hearts.

And with that, "The Furry Five" became "The Purrrfect Pride".

As for the rest of the story...

Dina and Jake are living extraordinary lives with even more remarkable people, whom we now have the pleasure of calling friends.

Anderson was adopted by a wonderful gentleman and is now hanging out with those in the racing circuit.