By Angelica Maulucci, California
Everyone who knows me knows I loved my pet fish Rey. I bought him filtered water and made sure he had exposure to sunlight. I even brought him with me in the car when I went to Cape Cod and drove to western Massachusetts for long weekends. Friends joked that of course this would happen when you give a social worker a fish.
By Margaret Penney, Ohio
Love and gratitude became the “cat”-alysts for a miracle in my pet family. It all started with the arrival of a young, feral, female cat who, after weeks of circumspection, came in off the street to live with my daughter, son-in-law, and me.
By Sri Harold Klemp
A woman kept a kennel for cats. People who were going on vacation brought their cats, and she took care of them. She loved cats and built very big cages for them. Her business cards had mottoes like “We love cats” or “Love is everything.”
By Sri Harold Klemp
An ECKist was walking down the street when she heard the shrill sound of screeching brakes. Turning to see what had happened, she noticed a little white dove lying in the road. It had been struck by a car.
By Peter Skrivanic, Kyoto, Japan
At ten years old, I went with my family to our local humane society in Oakville, a suburb of Toronto, Canada, to find our first family pet. Looking from cage to cage, I stopped before one that held Sam, a six-year-old, gray, male tabby cat with yellow-green eyes. He was large, slightly rotund, and older than most of the other cats in the shelter.