I'd been dating my boyfriend for about 7 years when he got offered his dream job across the country in Vancouver. Moving in together for the first time and being over 2,500 miles from friends and family was terrifying, but I took the risk. After we moved, he started his job and traveled 3-5 days a week. The loneliness from not knowing anyone or having anyone around made me pretty depressed. It rained every day and no matter how much I slept, I was always tired. As if that wasn't bad enough, my job search was going abysmally with few prospects in sight. Nothing was really going "right" for me.
It was then that I started bugging my boyfriend for not one, but two cats. I’d already been looking at cat rescue sites many times a day, and eventually I found what I thought would be the perfect pair of kittens. They were a brother and sister roughly 3 months old from a humane society close by. The humane society told me they were found beside a garbage dumpster and my heart broke - this was fate.
At one point there was a major panic when we couldn’t agree to adopt them for a few days as we needed to get some things in order, so I had a freak-out at the thought of someone else taking OUR fur babies. Fortunately no one else did and the adoption went smoothly!
The kittens adjusted to life with us well and they’re perfect! Due to the markings/”smudges” on Denali’s face, she also goes by “Smudge” and “Smudgey-Face” and actually associates to all of her nicknames, it’s so cute! My boy’s name is Turbo or “Turbo-Coon” because my boyfriend jokingly insists that he's just like a raccoon - what do you think?
I firmly believe that my kittens rescued me and I wouldn’t have it any other way. They’re my family and so dearly loved that everyone who knows me calls me the crazy cat lady. Here are two pictures of before-and-after rescuing them (then at 3 months old, now 3 years old).