The latest “Orphan of the Storm”, one of the unloved, unwanted and scared animal stray was found starving in a parking lot, and brought to our Pet Shelter in September l998.

It was a calico cat, about two years old. She truly was a pitiful living outcast to look at, screaming, screeching, fighting, frightened, spitting and hissing at anyone who even looked at her and tried to ease her pain. Finally I fastened a sheet on the door of her cage to block the outside view and calm her distress down.

The story of her short life span prior of being found living on the streets, was rather a sad and touching. Her owner passed away and she was thrown out to live alone as well as she could, and wherever she could. Undoutebly she was not used to the hard life and fight for a little bit of food, the hunger, loneliness and strange surroundings.

She kept on crying, ate hardly anything, but I did notice after few days, that she cried less often, and some of the food was eaten. And of course, she started to look better.

In about two weeks the sheet was taken down. She was taken to the Vet and given the tests, exams, shots, and she was found in good health; all tests were negative. Mrs. Beasley was put in upper cage, so she could have a better view of her surroundings to see what was going on around her. Although she was still very unhappy and growling, sometimes hissing, she did stop the pitiful, sad, moaning sounds.

It was not easy to disinfect and scrub her cage each day, so I worked around her, and sometimes, she obligingly moved to the other side. We did our utmost to keep her clean, comfortable and content.

I did name her after Mrs. Beasley, the “Family Affair” TV show doll. I do admit, that many times when she was hard to handle I did add “T” to her name, and she became Mrs. Beastley, however, just for the few minutes, while trying to disinfect and wipe the walls of the cage..

Slowly but surely she was becoming an Institution. Many people came to talk to her, felt sorry for her, tried to play with her, brought toys and treats. She accepted their homage with tolerance and deference of a queen. Was very sweet one minute, then she turned and spat at them.

Each morning, while cleaning the cages, the cats and kittens can run around, play, chase, gambol and just socialize with each other. That lasts for quite a while, sometimes all day. I lock the door from the inside, and they run after each other, and get their exercise.

But not our Mrs.. Beasley. She just sat, in her cage, would not come out, looked, examined all other kitties, but would have none of their company for anything. She just kept sitting looking beautiful as ever, royal, aristocratic, and feeling superior, I guess.

I was with her a great deal, and she started sort of to tolerate me. Later she even would allow me to touch her, play with her, and brush her beautiful furry coat.. One day to my amazement, she even allowed me to clean her ears.

January 23, l999 was a pertinent day to her future. Mrs. Karen Spivey, a lady who often came to see her and the other homeless ones, filled out adoption papers and our dear, formerly spiteful and hissing Mrs. Beasley became a birthday gift to her husband, Mr. Randy Spivey. Who would ever think that the little furry spitfire would become a gift of affection.
We are grateful that finally she found a good home, but I personally still miss her.

Mrs. Karen Spivey told us that our little Mrs. Beasley adapted very fast to her new surroundings, loves to be held, is purring for hours, lays on laps, sits up like a squirrel, plays and follows Tashy, who is their 12 years old kitty. She is very loving and feels at home. They are delightful to watch, and little Beasley runs and slides around like a rocket.

Each and everyone of the new arrivals, the “Orphan of the Storm”, has a story. We, the volunteers are fortunate to be able to give a helping hand to those unloved, unwanted, homeless, sick, frightened and hungry strays,.

It makes our lives worth living. At least is does it for me.

Julia M. Thompson, Volunteer.

Thanks for your participation.