Meet Jeter
This is Jeter. Also known as Pecker, Little, Jeet Jeet, Baby Jeet, Bone Bag, and whatever else I choose to call him because he came with a name that my 4-yr old, unfortunately, did not want to change. I love naming animals (actually, I love naming anything) and mine frequently have MANY nicknames because as their personalities emerge, I decide that they need new monikers (my son has a few doozies!). I'm responsible for my sister having a cat named Baba Ghanoush and a dog named Winston (he looked at me and I saw Winston Churchill, what can I say?)
I am also a fierce, passionate, crazy advocate for shelter pets. What better thing in this world to repurpose than a life? It beats a wing chair, that's for sure! And since I used to volunteer at a shelter I can tell you for a fact that there are SO MANY great animals who will likely spend their lives in a cage because they are just unlucky. It's why I support shelters in whatever way I can (like bringing them all of the cans of food my cats just suddenly decided they didn't like anymore, WHA?) And while the first cat I owned on my own was left in the elevator of my job, all the rest have been from shelters. For me, there's no other way. They know that you've saved their life and they are often the most affectionate, loving, selfless, inspired animals. That said, there is a difference between a foster cat and a shelter cat. Allow me to explain.
Jeter is a foster cat. I have had cats my entire life and I will tell you that, hands down, he is the most beautiful cat I have ever had. He's also the most spoiled. I suspect that this is because as a foster cat he spent his early years in a real house, with real people, and lots of other animals. The organization that had his mother used a network of "foster homes" to house their kittens until they were adopted. He's never been in a cage, he's never been out in the cold, he's never wanted for food or physical affection or attention. He was the last one into my house and he definitely knows his place in the hierarchy, but he somehow usurped the lead role by doing whatever the hell he pleases, and completely enchanting my husband. While he was supposed to be my son's cat, he accurately sniffed out the power grid and went right for the deal breaker to secure his reign. He wakes my husband every morning by standing on his bladder and screaming in his face (I assure you that I would never get away with this and if I so much as nudged my husband I would be growled at). My husband TAKES HIM FOR WALKS AROUND THE BLOCK and he actually follows him. And there are more pictures of this cat than the Pope. I promise you that Jeter is more worshipped.
So now you've met Jeter and heard my absolute, no-joke, impassioned plea for support of shelters everywhere. Before you look at a breed (let's leave that to the dog show world ok?) or go to a pet store, why not visit a shelter and look at all of the wonderful animals just waiting to be rescued. I promise you it's your life that will be saved.