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Two Hearts, Bound by Love
Meet Trigger & Bash
Trigger (the Snowshoe on the left) was found as an infant, half-drowned on a boat dock. Some wonderful souls found him and rushed him to the nearest shelter they could find. I happened to be a volunteer for that shelter (shout out to Hobo Hotel in Lake Charles, LA!) They were at capacity and honestly didn't think the little guy would survive. He was only about one week old, he was cold, barely breathing, and was so weak. They reached out to me, knowing I had fostered neonates for years with a 100% survival rate. They told me he probably wouldn't make it through the night, but asked if I wanted to try. I was determined to help him. I stayed up with him all night the very first night, making sure he was warm; petting, feeding, talking, and singing to him - encouraging him to fight! Well, my little baby quickly grew and flourished.
He was a solo bottle baby, and at the beginning, I took him everywhere with me because he needed me 24/7. When he was about 6 weeks old, I moved to another state and was unable to take him to work or the store with me anymore. Trigger instantly developed severe separation anxiety. Every time I closed the door, I could hear this tiny little kitten crying so loudly I could hear him outside my house. I knew he needed a friend, and fast!
I contacted a few local shelters that had kittens around his age. My initial intention was to spend a little time at each one to see if there were any that I was interested in, then schedule a meet and greet. The second shelter I visited had the kittens in a small community room. I went in, sat on the floor, and as I reached for a wand toy, a tiny little black and white kitten immediately crawled into my lap. That little guy curled up in my lap and stayed there while I attempted (and failed) to entice the other kittens to play with me. When I went to stand up to go to the next shelter, that little kitten latched his claws into my shirt, crawled up to my chin, and held on as tightly as he could, begging me not to leave him behind. He chose me, and I could not bear to break his heart. I took a moment to explain that Trigger would make the final decision. He needed a companion, someone to teach him how to be a kitten, and someone to love him unconditionally, so if this wasn't a good match, he might have to go back to the shelter. He did not release his grip on me and even meowed in my ear as if he agreed. I adopted him on the spot.
When we arrived home, he was SO excited to explore his new home full of toys, scratchers and a big cat tree. He took off running excitedly, sliding across the tile floor, banging into the wall, then eventually the cat tree. At this time Trigger, who had been sleeping in the cat tree when we arrived, was all puffed up, watching this strange new critter from above. His eyes were darting from the new creature to me, back and forth so confused. I pet him and did my best to let him know it was ok. Within moments, the new kitty found Triggers' favorite stuffed toy and Trigger bolted off the tree to stop this creature from touching his stuffie. The new kitten was not intimidated by Triggers' arched back, mohawk, or tiny hisses. He darted from toy to toy, knocking them all around Trigger. It was if he was saying "Hey buddy, I'm your new best friend, let's play!" Trigger looked at me one more time as his mowhawk began to calm down, and then instantly got knocked over by the crazy new fluffball who was still zooming all over the room, bumping into everything in his path (hence the name Bash, lol).
This tiny little guy took his new job as BFF very seriously and forced Trigger to give him a chance. Within five minutes of entering the house, he and Trigger were playing together. About twenty minutes later, they climbed the tree, curled up together, and fell asleep.
I’m not sure if it was a lack of oxygen from nearly drowning, or simply genetics, but Trigger is definitely “special”. Bash took over trying to teach Trigger how to groom himself, and when it didn’t work, he just started doing it for him. He took care of Trigger when he nearly died after complications from his neuter – never leaving his side. He came into the shower to alert me when Trigger was choking, lets me know when he throws up, if he misses the litterbox, or if the food bowl or water fountain are running low. Trigger, my sweet baby that wasn’t supposed to live through the night, is now a giant, needy, 17lb goofball. Bash is truly a one of a kind kitty with a nurturing heart and the kindest soul. They have been the very best of friends for over nine years now, and their love and need for one another is the same today as it was the day they met. If it weren’t for two small, private rescue groups, willing to take in orphaned kittens, my heart would have an empty space in it. We are so blessed and thankful to have these boys in our life!!