Challenge Eight

#MeowMonday - Photo(s) of my fur babies.

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Oh boy...you guys asked for it!

Right off the bat, I love animals.  I have little to no fear of animals, the only exceptions are BIG spiders and bugs.  I grew up on a farm so the ugly sights and smells don't bother me.  Over the years I've had my fair share of fur babies, which included; a cow I hand reared, a lame pony, a Banty hen, a couple of frogs, and a puppy with a crooked paw.

Basically, if an animal is a bit of an unlovable I'll be volunteering to love it.   Which is how I ended up with my baby...Jett.

Recovering from a lot drama, serious illness, and upheaval in my relatively young life, my mum and dad suggested I get a pet for company.  I knew it wouldn't be fair to get a dog, because my health was so unpredictable that it wouldn't be fair on the poor mutt.  My parents also had their own dogs too - Belle & Sandy - and I didn't want to upset them as I was going to be living at home.

With a little discussion I agreed on getting a cat, but I told my parents that if I was meant to have a cat then it would happen.  I have acquired all my past pets by chance, so why should this be any different. 

A few weeks past and I was back at work.  I'd received a referral to call out to an elderly gentleman needing some help, so I packed up my car and drove out to see him.  When I arrived at his small farm I was greeted by him and his sister.  We sat around a table and discussed his needs and what I could do to help, but as with most therapeutic  conversations, we moved onto personal, light-hearted talk.  It turned out the siblings loved animals, particularly cats, and they'd just adopted a cat that turned out to be pregnant.  Now they had six little kittens, and didn't know what they were going to do.

I was introduced to their Momma cat and her skittish kittens, but it became evident that one little kitten didn't fit in. 

Stuck under an old dog box was a scared little ball of black and white fluff.  The sister explained that this little munchkin was a bit too small and gentle, and her boisterous siblings were kicking her out.  They were doing what they could for her, but they were worried she wouldn't thrive. 

She needed a home...asap.

So....

She came home with me.

We bonded instantly, and because she was so young I became her surrogate mummy.

She even helped with writing...well she thought she was helping.

She started to get bigger, bolder, and her cheeky personality eventually came through.

But...she never stopped being my spoiled little fur baby.

I've had Jett three years now, and I don't regret a moment of it.  She's a diva, an eejit, and a sweetheart, but I wouldn't change her for the world.

When she was six months old she was poisoned by some very bad men, and we thought we were going to lose her.  But she fought hard and I didn't give up either.  Mercifully she survived, with no lasting damage except for an occasional dodgy tummy. 

I'm very lucky to have this little fur Angel.  She has helped me in ways only our furry friends can.  Her friendship is invaluable.  She's my amigo, my shadow, and even when things get me down, she's there to give me a head butt, and it's all good.