Nimbus

While we didn't have him long, less than 2 years, Nimbus was a special animal who will always have a place in our hearts. He was abandoned by neighbors and a stray during one of the hottest summers on record.  With the prodding of Carl, neighbors finally convinced me to adopt him.  He was never really ours, however.  He had become accustomed to roaming and visited other homes routinely. Everybody knew him.  Treats and a drink of water from the faucet were his only requirements. A little time for affection and he was on his way.  One of our fondest memories is of him being carried home by 5-year old Nicholas.  Nimbus was part Maine Coon, so he was almost as big as Nicholas.  Another great memory was the night we saw him sitting at the edge of the backyard with another cat or so we thought.  Once our eyes adjusted to the dark, we realized it was a possum. They looked like two old friends just chatting.  He loved being carried out to get the newspaper every morning on Carl's shoulder. He was a real character who loved everybody and everybody loved him.  He will be missed.

- Susan & Carl Fincke

Sadie Mae

Thirteen years ago, our seven-week old Springer Spaniel puppy shivered with fear on my shoulder as we drove her away from her littermates. I kissed her fur, soft as silk, and snuggled her under my chin to soothe her.  Soon she was fast asleep.  All would be well.  We brought her into our life knowing she would bridge a gap that was coming. The oldest of our four children was heading out into the world.  The rest would be following.  She would help us through the transition.  And she did, filling our home with puppy antics… chasing rocks, fireflies and butterflies.  Always gracious, obedient and loyal, she kept me company in the kitchen, sitting on the bench as the children did when they were young.  She seemed to know her role, her purpose.  Years flew by.  Before we could prepare ourselves for Sadie to grow old, she did.  She gradually lost her sight, then her hearing.  But in her darkness, she found her way, always lifting her nose to catch my scent nearby.   And then in the month of May, we got the news… a grandchild was on the way, our first.  Another era in our lives was about to begin.  Seemingly knowing we had the joy of new life on its way, Sadie let go of hers.  I held her over my heart as she took her last breath.  One life ends, a new life begins. Sadie Mae, we thank you, we love you.  We fix our sights now to the Christmas baby coming into our lives, while our Sadie remains fixed in our hearts.

- Christine W. Vrooman

Lucy

In 1998 I was transferred to NC and living alone, away from friends and family. Soon after my arrival, I was told of an older woman in NJ who had to move into a retirement home and leave her pets behind.  For some reason, I couldn’t resist and offered to adopt Lucy, her eight year old Bassett Hound.  Lucy traveled by air, on a flight from NJ to NC, all by herself.  I picked her up in baggage claim.  Our eyes met, and I was hooked.  Both dislocated, both in need of companionship.  It was a perfect match. Taking walks with Lucy was a social outing.  She seemed to attract attention wherever we went.  She brought such joy to my life so far from home.
Shortly thereafter, I received the heartbreaking news my mother had died suddenly.  I held my Lucy. She loved me back. She was my inspiration, my strength… her goofy expression, her enthusiasm for life, her ability to enjoy the simple things lightened the ache in my heart.  I don’t know how I could have made it through that time had Lucy not been with me.  She came into my life for a reason and has held my heart ever since.
She is older now, her blonde ears now white, a mole on her head, her gait a little slower, but our love for one another as strong as ever.   

- Mary Neal King

Sammy

About 10 years ago, we found a kitten (just a few weeks old) along side the road one night while returning home from dinner. Someone had dropped off not only him, but 2 other kittens in the neighborhood which we found out about 6 months later.

We thought the kitten was a female, so my wife named it Samantha. Much to our surprise, we learned he was a male during his first visit to the vet. So his name was shortened to Sammy.

He is called Sammy "T" (for terrible), because he was such a bully when we had other cats. Now he's the only one left.

He's strictly an indoor cat, having only been outside only twice; except, of course, for trips to the vet.

He has only one fault: he doesn't like to be picked up and held; but will jump into your lap at his convince and stay for long periods of time.

He loves to be brushed.

I wouldn't have believed he would be such a loving animal. He loves to sleep with us, curling up at the foot of the bed.

Sometimes, I think he's part dog, for he follows me all over the house. It's as if he thinks I'm leaving him.

It's such a joy to be met at the front door by him.

He still explores every inch of the house each day.

Someone made a "HUGE MISTAKE" when they left him on the curb.

Herbie

My sister picked Herbie up from the Virginia Beach SPCA when I was 3 years old. From the moment we got him it seemed he was always getting into trouble. Herbie was an indoor cat, but you couldn’t tell him that. He jumped at every opportunity to get outside anytime you opened the door to go outside. We would spend hours walking the neighborhood looking for him. Sometimes we’d just have to wait until he got tired and decided on sauntering home.

Anytime Herbie would get out he would find himself in some sort of predicament. Two prominent incidents come to mind. I remember him on time getting into a fight with the neighbor’s cat, coming home with a scratch in his neck, while leaving a tooth in the other cat’s leg. One other time, Herbie was “smart” enough to jump down a gutter drain in the road. We called the fire department and everything. How Herbie managed to find his way back to the drain he jumped into, and then back out again we’ll never know. That cat definitely used up all nine of his lives.

There’s no secret from those that met Herbie that he was a little on the robust side. He was orange and white, and always reminded me of Garfield. Herbie had many nicknames like “Garbage Gut,” and my Grandfather’s favorite “Buckethead” because his body was always bigger than his head. Herbie wasn’t picky about what he ate either. He’d chop down on anything from cheese to potato chips.

After my sister moved out, Herbie became the only cat in the house. He ended up taking a shine to me over my parents and we became buddies. I went off to college, and for the first two years, every time I’d come home all I would have to do is call him and he would get all excited. I don’t know who taught him how to meow, but Herbie always let out this squawk. There was no meow whatsoever.

I hated to leave Herbie when I went back to school. I was always afraid something was going to happen to him. After all he was 16 years old at this time. My junior year, I decided to get an apartment at school, and so at the tender age of 16 Herbie got to enjoy college life. We made the trek back and forth from Radford to Virginia Beach numerous times. Herbie finally got to enjoy getting out of the house and experiencing the world like he always tried to do growing up.

Herbie passed away two weeks after I graduated. He made it to the ripe age of 18. Herbie made it home one last time to say goodbye to everyone; especially my niece, Tabitha, and Herbie’s brother, Zack who missed him terribly when he was at school. I’ll always cherish the good times I had with Herbie, and won’t forget him as long as I live.

- Jason Johns