Hi! My name is Sweet Steve Furrington, and I would like to tell you the story of how I found my very own home.
I never knew that there was a purrfect home waiting for a sweet little kitty like me. I was born outside and spent my days hiding and playing. Just before dark each day, a woman would come and put food into the kitty houses she built. I would watch her from afar, and then wait until she went inside before getting something to eat. I did a good job of hiding from her, but every so often she would catch a glimpse of me and talk to me sweetly, encouraging me to come to her. I was too afraid go near The Food Lady.
One day, while playing, I hurt my back right foot. I was in so much pain and didn't know what to do, but then I remembered that The Food Lady had always spoken kindly to me. I limped over to the kitty house closest to her porch and waited. Another lady I didn't recognize saw me right away and called for The Food Lady. I thought I was big and brave until she came outside to see me. I ran away into the bushes, but it was too late. She already knew that I was hurt.
The next day, The Food Lady set a trap and learned that she was good at setting traps, but bad at catching cats. She caught a blue jay first and was forced to move the trap to the other side of the yard, because it wouldn't stop flying inside and triggering the trap. She was scared that she wouldn't catch me, but I saw everything she was doing. I watched her put my very favorite thing ever, hot dogs, leading up to and inside of the trap. I didn't know what was going on just yet, but I knew I needed those delicious hot dogs.
Feeling hungry, I followed the hot dogs until the door to the trap closed behind me! At first, I was terrified. Then, I saw The Food Lady come over to me and try to pick up the trap. There would be none of that on my watch, and I used my little paws to bat her so she couldn't pick it up by the handles. Unwilling to let me stay outside hurt, she dragged the trap inside from behind the door, where I couldn't reach her. The whole time, she was telling me what a good boy I was. That may be true, but I was feeling awfully grumpy.
Once inside, she opened the trap and released me into a bigger cage with blankets, food, water, and something called a litter box. I stared her down with my angriest look, but she kept telling me how handsome I was. She even called me "The Perfect Orange." That's how I knew she was a weird human, but she was my weird human now.
She spent time with me, looking over my foot as best as she could without being allowed to touch it. It was my foot and I wasn't sharing. She used to be something called a vet tech, which meant she could take the best care of me. The good news was that I didn't need an emergency vet, and she had what was necessary to treat me overnight. The bad news was that I had to see her vet right away the next day.
I tried to get some sleep that night, but I didn't know what was happening or if I should be scared of the vet. It turns out that I was worried about nothing, because the vet made me feel all better. He fixed my foot, gave me some shots and medicine, and made sure I was nice and healthy. His vet tech, Katie, immediately fell in love with me and assured my human that I was a love bug.
After a long day of being fixed up, I had to spend the night in the same cage while all the medicine wore off. The Food Lady sat with me through the night, talking to me every time I would yell and telling me that she was my new mom. I never had a human mom before, so I wasn't so sure that I was ready to commit to that agreement just yet.
The next morning, she put me in a large playpen, and that's when I really came out of my shell. For the first time, I was safe, I was warm, I had a soft place to sleep, my very own bed, and food came to me! There were even things called toys! I sprawled out and made myself at home in my castle fit for a king.
That Mom lady ended up being pretty okay, too, even though I prefer to refer to her as Mother. She says that, if I were a human, I would be a proper British gentleman. I don't know what that means, but she feeds me, so I just go along with it.
Mother first tried to pet me on my third day here, but I told her no. Then, I watched through the playpen as a gray and white tabby named Millie got petted right in front of me, and I became very jealous. If that other cat could be petted, why couldn't I? For the next two weeks, while I healed, I would allow for exactly three pets using two fingers - no more, no less - once a day, when being fed.
I spent my time watching other kitties walk past me. They would sometimes come over to me, and we would touch noses through the playpen. They weren't the only friends I made. There was a dog named Quinn, who liked to sit and watch me whenever she could. She did it so often that Mother moved her bed next to my playpen, and we became fast friends. She was determined to protect me. My dog brother, Nick, wasn't quite sure what to make of me, but the feeling was mutual. I longed to be with them.
My day eventually came after a final trip to the vet's office. I was able to get the bandages off of my foot, and was given the okay to roam the house at my leisure. I spent some time hiding under the cedar chest and napping in the various beds Mother had hidden in quiet places around the house. Soon, I found my groove and took my rightful place as the best little orange of the house.
I have lived here for six months now, and I am happy and healthy. The inside life is definitely for me.
*****
Mother would like to give a shout out to Dr. Sliwa at All Pets Hospital for making it possible for me to keep part of my foot, and Katie from As They Come Animal Rescue. She was my vet tech, and Mother credits her for me being so friendly, since Katie was the first human to handle me. Please support your local rescue if you can! Thank you.
She would also like to note that this series will contain both true stories, like this one, and silly stories she has made up about how I spend my spare time. She hopes you enjoy them all.
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The Sweet Steve Series
RandomStories about an overly curious, three-and-a-half footed cat that may or may not be true. Written with kids in mind and for the whole family to enjoy.