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Katrina's Story

I knew it had to be a mistake, and I told that to anyone who would listen to me. I sat in my cell at the Denver Humane Society Extended Care shelter and sniffled. The cat in the cell next to me told me I was lucky -- many cities don't have extended care shelters, and kittens with colds are simply put to sleep. I didn't belong in here! What had I done to deserve being put behind these cold steel bars?

I meowed my indignation to the two people who walked into my cell block during visiting hours that fateful Saturday morning. Much to my surprise, they listened quite intently to my hard-luck story. A mere hour later, I was rudely placed into a cardboard carrier. After much shaking about (during which I howled shamelessly), the world stopped moving and I hopped out into a bright new world. Ah, free at last!
In my new home, I was given a room of my own. They called me "Spot" back in the pen, but here, I was "Katrina Kientz." While my room was considerably larger than that cell in the shelter, it wasn't quite big enough. Sure, I loved my new litter box, food and water dishes, purr pad, box, and I'd even get my own collar and tag later, but I knew the world was bigger than this! One day, when my humans opened the door to come play with me, I made a run for it! There was only one problem... 

 

There was a big black beast waiting right outside the door!!! They call him "Sebastian" and he says he rules this roost. We'll just have to see about that...


Oh, I tried to get along with him, but I just couldn't figure him out. He'd hiss at me one minute and then try to play with me the next.

Rather than deal with him, I decided to hide under the bed for awhile.

Besides, shoes are much more interesting than stuffy ol' cats...

 

 

Eventually, playing with shoes lost its appeal, so I switched to necklaces...

 

...and bracelets...

 

Then it was time for a big bowl of kitten chow...

...and bedtime for me and my humans.