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My buddy was found by my daughter in the summer of 2001, meowing his little head off about ten feet up a small tree. After many failed attempts to coax him down, I climbed up and brought him to safety. He was so tiny he fit in one hand.
We put up flyers, placed an ad in the local paper, and spoke with neighbors, but no one knew where he had come from or how he ended up there. The vet estimated he was about 2 to 4 months old, in good health but slightly undernourished. We had him neutered, vaccinated, and brought him home, hoping my older cat, Whiskers, would accept him. She swatted him once or twice to put him in his place but ultimately welcomed him.
Except for my two combat tours in Iraq, he has lived with me ever since. During my deployments, he stayed with my daughter. When I returned home from both tours, he jumped into my lap as if I had never been gone.
He sleeps beside me every night, follows me around the house like a dog, and meows loudly when my undiagnosed PTSD starts to overwhelm me. His jabbering brings me back to myself. He is my best friend — my buddy.
Now about 13 years old, he is healthy and active, still chasing my other cat, Golly, around the house. I hope he blesses me with his presence and friendship for many more years.
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Story submitted by William Sanders from Highlands Ranch, CO.
This story was originally shared on The Animal Rescue Site. Share your very own rescue story here!
