Claire's Adoption Story

Here's just a couple of pictures of me from the day my Mommy person adopted me. My brother Chance was only ten months old, and Mom thought it might be time to start looking for some company for him, but she expected it to take some time to find the right match. Little did she know she would see my picture on Petfinder the day she began searching! It was my mom's birthday, and she was a little bummed to be spending it at work. So on her lunch break she scrolled the site, and there I was, head cocked to one side as if speaking to her. Mom placed a call to the shelter, but they said there were already two holds placed, so to call back in two and a half weeks.

That seemed to be an arbitrary number! But that meant the date to call back was Sept 12th--easy for my Mom to remember because it was her parents' anniversary. On that date, mom happened to get home early from work, which never happens. So she was able to call and check again at the shelter around four in the afternoon, figuring I was already gone. But surprisingly, both people who had placed holds on me failed to show up. The shelter said hurry or she'll be gone! So mom and her friend raced across town all the way from Burbank to Carson in rush hour traffic to get me. At the shelter, I was in the very first kennel when Mom went looking for me. My adoption fee was only $38! Mom called her vet, because she wasn't sure she'd make it there before they left for the night. They told her they'd stay open to check me over, and we made it there with only fifteen minutes to spare before they closed! Good thing, because I had fleas, and there was a note in my adoption paperwork that I'd been given meds at the shelter for signs of kennel cough.

The people at the shelter called me an "Owner Arrest." I guess that's why I like anyone in a uniform, because of the nice cop who brought me in. I had my nails painted bright pink when I came home with Mom, so someone obviously cared for me. But I have always rubbed up to people for attention like a cat, so Mom thinks maybe I belonged to a druggie who would alternately shower me with attention then ignore me for a while. Mom calls me her kitten because I like to curl into a ball on your lap, all the time.

The kennel cough meant I had to be segregated from my brother and on antibiotics for about four weeks. The only place mom had to do this was in the bathroom, so I made myself at home in a cozy bed there. That's where my first photos were taken. I'd also been fixed at the shelter, which Mom knew. What they didn't tell her was that I'd been fixed less than 24 hours before Mom had picked me up. In being segregated in the bathroom, I wasn't in mom's eyesight much of the time, and I managed to lick open my stitches twice in that first month. I was pretty uncomfortable! But with Mom's love and attention I got better and was soon wrestling with my brother. That lasted about six months till he gave up and realized I'm in charge. Now he licks my ears clean from time to time, and I am ethereally above it all. I let him walk in front of me when we're on leash so he can deal with all those bothersome skateboards, and I can coast along, but at home I get what I want, which is usually Mom's lap.