Casey
Casey’s Rescue: From Grit to Grace
In April 2025, a Facebook post led me to a gas station called Casey’s, where a pregnant cat had been spotted. She’d been caught, but her babies were nowhere to be found. What began as a simple response quickly became a mission of the heart.
Together with a fellow rescuer, Michelle, we tracked her to a gated alley cluttered with old car parts — the kind of place that tells you right away: this won’t be easy. Every day for weeks, I returned. I fed her. I searched for her kittens. I scanned every inch of the alley. But there was no sign of them, and safely trapping her in those conditions was nearly impossible. So I did the only thing I could — I earned her trust.
Day after day, I showed up. She showed up too — cautious, clever, and clearly torn between fear and a growing curiosity about the people who kept trying to help her. She didn’t want to be caught, but over time, she made one thing clear: she did want to be loved.
For nearly two months, we danced around each other in that alley. She let me pet her. She’d purr and lean in, but still refused to be picked up or confined. Then one afternoon, on my way to a comedy show with my husband, I made my usual stop to feed her. What I found instead was urgent — and heartbreaking.
Casey was in labor. She had already given birth to two tiny kittens in a puddle beneath the hood of a car. Rain clouds loomed overhead, the wind already picking up. With the help of a fellow cat lover named Beth, we carefully scooped Casey and her newborns from the alley and gently passed them through the gate into a transport kennel.
It wasn’t a moment too soon. Thunder rolled as we pulled away.
At home, I settled her in a warm, quiet bathroom. Safe, dry, and finally off the streets, Casey gave birth to two more healthy kittens. And for the first time in her life, she didn’t have to do it alone.
Since that day, Casey has blossomed. She’s not just safe — she’s a queen. A total diva. She soaks up love like sunshine and lets us know exactly when her royal subjects may and may not pet her. Her kittens are thriving, growing fast, and will be ready for adoption soon.
Casey’s story is a reminder that every stray cat has a history, a heart, and a hope for something better. And thanks to a little patience, a lot of love, and the magic of showing up — Casey found her second chance.
Honey
Some stories take months to tell. This one started in April 2025.
I responded to a post about a stray cat who had reportedly just given birth. But when we discovered where she was “living,” we quickly realized that finding her kittens would be nearly impossible. She was tucked away in a gated alley filled with car parts — and despite our searching, there were no kittens in sight.
Still, I committed to going back daily to feed her and to eventually catch the whole family once the babies got mobile and ventured out from wherever she’d hidden them.
But days turned into weeks, and there was never any sign of kittens. What I did discover was that, while she may not have had babies, she wasn’t alone — she had a young female best friend. The two were inseparable. And for nearly three months, I went every day, trying to earn their trust. Setting a trap wasn’t an option, so trust was my only way in.
Then, two weeks ago, everything changed. I arrived to find the momma cat — the one who had been reported as having kittens back in April — in labor. She’d already delivered two kittens in a puddle under a car hood and was having another.
With the help of a fellow cat lover, Beth, we managed to safely contain her and her three newborns just before the rain came. I got her home, and she gave birth to two more.
The next day, I went back to feed and check on her bestie. She was crying. Pacing. Desperately confused. The night before, she had scratched up the hood where her friend had been laboring — clearly searching, clearly grieving.
For the past two weeks, I’ve returned every day. She cried. My heart broke over and over, watching her look for someone she didn’t understand was safe — just gone. I knew I couldn’t leave her. They were bonded. She was cautious though and always kept her distance, safely behind the gate.
Today, everything was different.
On the eve of the 4th of July — with fireworks looming and fear in the air — she let me touch her. She leaned into it. And with the help of Beth (again), we finally got her.
On the silent drive home, all I could think about was how I hoped she’d sleep the way only rescued strays do — that deep, unbothered, snorey sleep that means they finally feel safe.
Tonight, she’s tucked into a quiet space. She’s still a little unsure (understandably — she’s been through a lot), but she’s safe. And tomorrow, I hope she realizes…
she’s home.
With her best friend.
Photo courtesy of Beth Bartels
Beth — thank you for all your help and the hours and hours you spent helping to make this happen. I truly couldn’t have done it without you!