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Wing-Worthy Stories
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Tell us why your pet deserves its angel wings. The stories can be amazing, heroic, or just sweet! Include as many details as possible so others may appreciate your experience as much as you do. The most inspiring stories will be published on our website or even published in our upcoming Animangels book. We know you have stories and would love to share them with others so here's your chance!
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Princess
My restless dog princess, a 3-year-old rottweiler, is very playful with humans, but she doesn't get along with other dogs very well. One day I rescued a lost puppy who was cold and lonely and I could tell he hadn't eaten in days. I put the puppy in with Princess to see how she would react. The first thing the puppy did was try to climb in the dog house and he was too small to get up so Princess used her snout to boost the puppy up. Then she went in and cuddled next to him to keep him warm. They slept together that night and the next morning the puppy went out to eat from princess' bowl. Normally Princess gets very defensive of her food and won't let other dogs eat it, but instead of protecting her food she let him have some first. Princess is now pregnant and will have her puppies in a couple of months. I know she is going to take good care of all of them.
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Chuckles and Chester
Chuckles and Chester are my two Siamese cats. They have lived with my family for ten years, eight years in one home and then two years ago, they successfully moved with us to our new home. They are full brothers, but Chuckles is one litter older than Chester. Chuckles has beautiful, soft, light colored, mid-length, fur with dark markings, it is always beautifully groomed. Chester has coarse, dark, short fur that is typically oily and speckled with dandruff.
They get along like two young brothers, often engaging in horseplay and wrestling, then quietly settling down together soaking in the sun's warm rays.
Like the differences in their fur, their personalities are also very different. Chuckles is the king of the domestic castle. He immediately lets any new pets within the kingdom know who's at the top of the pecking order, including the family dogs. Once he has solidified his reign, he roams the kingdom, reviewing his subjects on his own schedule. Chester holds his own within the kingdom, but follows a more passive lifestyle and stays away from any subjects that may represent a threat.
During the day when we pass them, in our usual rush, Chuckles stand up on his hind legs so I will reach doen to massage and scratch his head and neck before we leave. Chuckles walks around my feet, rubbing my ankles, making quiet meows of appreciation for the things we do to keep his kingdom in order. The smiles on their faces show a level of appreciation shown by few.
One of the main reasons our two cats deserve their wings is for the ways they have improved and increased my time of relaxation. When I sit down in an easy chair for a quick rest, they jump onto my lap and collect deserved honors. They take position on one leg and assume a royal pose saved for lions at the gate. At this point a softly placed claw reminds you to stay still until the poised king has finished his stay.
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Lacy
Lacy was without a doubt, the cat of my heart and soul. Lacy was a black cat., but not just any ol' black cat. She had long feathery fur, silky soft and black, so black that it glowed red in certain lights. She had beautiful, warn green-yellow eyes, that smiled lovingly at me whenever I got home. With just a hint of invite, she would run up my slightly extended leg, over my chest and up to my shoulder where she would drape herself for the next few hours. Here she would hang while I watched TV, or did homework, or just did nothing. Dinner time did bring some changes in position. She would sit beside me, only claiming a small area (since I was so much larger than her) of my plate. As long as I ate nothing she thought she would like to taste, I could eat in piece. If by chance some tidbit entering my mouth caught her eye, she quickly let me know with a paw to the cheek. Then I knew I was to open and allow her to remove what she liked from my tongue. Never once did she touch my tongue, with anything but a petite paw, removing only the sought after morsel.
Mornings were also for her delight. Early each day I was awaken by her gentle grooming. The inside of my ears have never been as clean since. I found that she wouldn't let me leave the bed before she deemed me clean and ready. If I tried to rise before she was finished, a gentle but firm claw would deter me. Once finished with her chore, I was released and ready to start a new day, groomed to perfection. One of her favorite games, was chasing a paper ball around the bathtub. You could throw a wadded piece of paper in the tub and in she would go. She would bat it to one the sloped end and run up the slope after it, batting the ball to the other end. Then slide down the slope and start again. Needless to say, with the thirteen moves she made with me, and the 18 years we were together we have had many, many happy hours, numerous and untold memories and we have shared lots of love between us.
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Mouse
I got Mouse in January of 1980. I was told he was a "she". I named "her" Satin. I found out early on that this cat loved cheese. So much so that I had taken to calling it "little gray mouse". Soon after I realized "she" was a he, but the nickname stuck. So Mouse it was. He was the most distinctively square faced cat I had ever seen. This intrigued me. He had silver gray Persian fur, very fluffy and long, and beautiful copper eyes. This cat was very playful. He loved the plastic balls with bells in them. I found that he was also very intelligent, and learned fast. In a very short period, he had learned to come to the sound of the bells. He knew that it meant either cheese or time to play. His favorite game was fetch. I would throw the plastic ball, he would give chase, bat it a few times,(to show it who was boss) pick it up, return and drop the ball at me feet. He then expected me to do it all over again. He would play this game until I became tired and we would stop.
This cat has moved with me nine different times. Managed to get out of our apt. in Salt Lake on 2nd South (one of the busiest streets) without getting injured. Lived through two new cats and a dog. He has lived twenty three human years. He is truly an old man. Yet Mouse keeps going.
One of the funniest moments with Mouse was a year or so ago. Never has he been allowed to drink from the toilet, but this day I was cleaning and had it open. Mouse decided he needed to taste the water there in. Don't forget he is at this time, 22. The first problem was getting to the rim. Paws up. So far so good. The second problem, getting his hind quarters up. Now things get a bit tougher. He tries to raise one leg. He gets it two or three inches off the floor. After about five tries, he gets a leg up. By now I am laying on the floor in stitches. He inches his forepaws slowly down the inside of the bowl. Indignantly he takes a drink. Then it dawns, "How do I get out of here and down?" Tears are now rolling down my face. He tries putting a hind foot down, air. He tries the other foot, air. After about ten different tries, he turns around, drops his forepaws over the edge and slides over down to the floor. In writing it doesn't sound as funny as seems it. But if you can picture an old unsteady man, you may get the picture. I'm going to miss Mouse when he is gone, but till then, he is a great cat!
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Submit Your Angel's Story
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