THOUGHTS FROM THE ALCOHOL CATS:
Check out this blog post about a great success story written by a wonderful Animal Rescue League of Boston volunteer and supporter! Read and follow her blog 🙂
Alcohol Cats and the Candy Bar Dog
I’ve mentioned before that my sister has two dachshunds. Instead of being named after alcohol, her dogs are named after candy bars: Snickers and Mars. (“Mars” deriving from the British “Mars Bar,” which was the name of our Great-Aunt’s favorite dachshund. I’ll talk more about her another day.)
Well it just so happens that Mars loves cats. Really, he loves anything that moves. So a few times I’ve brought Mars over to meet the alcohol cats, because one day I want a dog. But more importantly, I want to know that Smirnoff and Bacardi would be okay living with a dog.
Cats will react very differently toward other cats versus dogs. As I found out when I tried to foster a kitten, Smirnoff hates other cats with a passion. Except for Bacardi, of course, who is his best friend/minion. But when another cat enters his view, Smirnoff will hiss and growl and he will take out his unhappiness on me, on Bacardi, and anyone who crosses his path. Even when the cat is in another room. Bacardi, however, was curious about the kitten and would sit side-by-side with it.
Tookie, The Cat Who Loved a Pitbull
Love knows no bounds. What animals and human beings are capable of because of love, always amazes me.
When a two-year-old cat named Tookie was surrendered to our shelter in October, his whole life changed. Although that’s really true of any animal that is brought to a shelter, but in Tookie’s case it was a bit different. He was surrendered by his owner (due to moving) and because of this was separated from his best friend in the whole world—a pitbull. According to his former owner, the two animals slept together every night. Tookie loved his pitbull friend, but the girl’s mother would only take her dog; she was allergic to cats.
When Tookie arrived, he had that look on his face that shelter animals sometimes have. It’s the “don’t even look at me because I’m not even here” look. He huddled himself in the corner of the cage and melted our hearts. Slowly, day by day, he started to open up: by leaning slightly into head pets, by giving his little “Tookie cry”—a soulful, squeaky chirp. Then he started to have a major problem.
Ten Thousand Kittens 