Tiny Cat Stories
Cat love in short form: miniature, reader-submitted cat stories of no more than 100 words.
I’ve heard some say that our pets who have passed on choose our next pet for us. It makes perfect sense that they would want another pet to enjoy the same wonderful life that they had. After my 17-year-old Himalayan passed away, I was ready to look for my next Persian kitty. When I went to my local shelter, much to my amazement I found a beautiful tabby Persian sitting in the very same cage as my former cat had occupied 10 years earlier. What are the chances of THAT happening? I named her Esmeralda. —Pat DeWald
Who Rescued Who?
I’d ended my time as a foster mom and was desperately lonely. I entered the shelter, and a small black kitten sidled up to me and began purring. She climbed into my lap, softly brushing her cheek against mine. Time stopped for me. The darkness that had become etched in my mood lifted. All I could see was this precious ball of fur. She chose me and has become our therapy cat. After adopting Canary, we saw
she’s the definition of “scaredy cat”. I’m forever grateful for the bravery she exhibited that day to save me from my sadness.—Lindsey Goshgarian
Sassy, distinguished by her little black nose against her alabaster fur, was my best buddy and support for 15 of her 19.5 years of life. Loyal and loving, she comforted me with her affection after my husband passed away. She was the sentinel at the foot of my bed, never budging during my initial post-operative recovery from total knee replacement. Her tiny black nose would appear at the door whenever I entered my apartment because she could discern the sound of my garage door from others. She crossed the Rainbow Bridge with me by her side in November 2021. —Linda S. Moellering
Shared Interests Unite
I rescued my adult strays, Molly and Rosie, six months apart, from our county shelter. Both of their files carried the notation, “Doesn’t get along with other cats.” So true—they barely tolerate each other. While they’ve stopped hissing and fighting, they still don’t play or cuddle as I’d hoped they might with time. But I’ve found two things they do enjoy together without sass or bullying: They both come running at the word “treats” and at hearing the dulcet voice of David Attenborough. Only at those times can I capture them in the same picture frame.—Robin Praytor
He Found Me
Gojo found me. I was working at the library that day, out sitting under the big clock. Gojo came over, but not too close. He meowed and rolled around in the grass. I went and got him water. I told myself if he is outside when I get off, I will take him home. Sure enough, he was waiting on me at the door. He let me pick him up, and we have been together ever since. I needed him more, I think. Gojo came into my life at my darkest moment and brightened it up. —Carla Waller
Our beloved cat Purrcy passed after a long illness, and I was inconsolable. A friend at a local shelter called about a kitten that was rescued from Hurricane Maria and flown up to New Jersey. She told me, “You must come see this baby!” Still grieving, we went to visit, and it was as if the universe knew I could not live without Purrcy—heaven sent us a miniature of him! Purrcy was 13 pounds, and Stellaluna remains five pounds! She trembled for weeks then one day, she simply stopped—and now rules her domain and heals our hearts! —Laura Baker
Spats followed me home ‘cause I promised him food. He slept in my car at night, and walked into the house with the dogs in the morning. He’s taken my chair and most of my pillow at night. Records show that I adopted him, or has he adopted my house and all that is in it? I now work for him to maintain his house, his food, and the big screen TV he prefers to watch Animal Planet on. I also need to provide the catnip-filled mice with bells on them, which I confess sometimes even I find intriguing. —Joseph A. Dewan
I love it when I’m outside—usually, one or two of my cats like to follow me around. One day I was walking down for the mail and looked back. There they were. Not just one cat or two, but all of them! I felt like Scott Calvin from the Santa Clause when the reindeer were following him, except I had a clowder of kitties—or should I say a clowder of reindeer kitties following me in a line.—Michelle Molna
My cat Hobbs can be skittish around noises and new things. When it’s time to go to the vet or if she’s missing and won’t come no matter what, I know there is one thing that will make her appear. I play “Hello” by Adele. She can be in a dead sleep or just hiding, and as soon as she hears it, she comes running. She will headbutt you and meow as it plays. This never fails to work. But as soon as it’s over, she’s done. So, I thank Adele for my cat’s favourite song. —Darla Markel
Happy Feet is the most graceful of all our cats, rarely losing his footing at any time. But what happens when he leaps onto a stair post piled with laundry? Off he slips, his legs splayed, and lands squarely on the floor, as bewildered as any fallen ballerina could be. —Tatiana S.