Did you know that June is "Adopt a Shelter Cat Month?"
Neither did I, but this came from Helen Morrison (W. Shore Rd.) who volunteers at the Kingdom Animal Shelter in St. Johnsbury:
 Kingdom Animal Shelter newsletter

Having a pet is a big responsibility, but well worth the effort. While cats can be very independent, that's a good thing. They can also be very affectionate and loyal. Of course, I have our Woody in mind - he's all of that and he's also a great source of entertainment. Plus, he's a great "lap warmer." He can also be a pest and sometimes destructive, but we forgive him. It would be pretty darned lonely without him around. 

I've had cats at one time or another for most of my life. When I was growing up, we always had a cat - first the big yellow tiger, Foxy, that came with my Grandfather McAllan to live with us. When my grandfather passed away, the cat left. We never knew what happened to him. I suspect he went into the woods and died of a broken heart. We had other cats - one I remember got one foot clipped off by the mower when she was hunting in the hayfield one summer. She did fine with three legs. When I got married, we got two part Siamese cats - coal black and crazy-weird. We later tried a thoroughbred Siamese when Bill was just a toddler. The cat (I don't remember his name) was inclined to be feisty and jumped on Bill, giving him a bad scratch very near his eye. The cat was relocated to our neighbor whose children were grown. We traded him for a wallpapering board. He was always dangerous - even scratched and bit our neighbor sometimes - but she loved him anyway. Later, Jamie brought home a kitten, the last of a litter, and kept it secretly in his room for several days before I discovered it. I wondered how come he was suddenly being very cooperative about cleaning his room. We already had a big dog, Clint, and I had repeatedly said "NO" to having a cat. However, the kitten was about the homeliest little beast ever seen, and the boys aptly named her Hideous. Later, we inherited Tiny after my parents died. Then we didn't have cats for a long time - until Woody wandered our way.

Of course, I like dogs, too, and we've had our share of them over the years - there was Elmer, who helped herd cows when we were kids, and our Scottie dogs, Cinder and later Heather. When I was first married and living in Danville, we had a sweet little Beagle, Chips. He didn't stay home much, but liked to hunt and would get so tired he'd crash at our neighbors' house a little way up the road from us. When we moved to St. Johnsbury, we left him with the neighbors and they loved him.  After my first husband died and the three boys were young, we got a blue-eyed Huskey/Beagle mix, Harvey. He liked to hunt, too, and that was his Waterloo. He was struck by a car out on Route 2 by Molly's Pond. The rabbit made it across the highway, but Harvey didn't. That was tough, losing him. Then we got Clint, a big black lab that was very protective of all of us - and very rambunctious, growing up with teenage boys. Clint died of old age. 

Almost all of our animal pets have come from shelters. It was always rewarding to give them a good, loving home after what was for most a difficult life. Woody isn't a shelter cat - he just wandered away from his former home and liked us because we didn't have other animals, I think. He needed to be top cat. And he is. He's on the desk beside me now, reaching out with his paw from time to time to touch my shoulder or my cheek, just to remind me to pay some attention to him. He'll go to sleep soon and hang out here with me until I leave. It's a routine we follow just about every night after he comes in for the last time. He'd like to go back out tonight, but it's too late. We both need our rest.