A childhood experience left me with a soft spot for stray animals. About nine years ago, I had a family cat with black fur and sparkling green eyes. She had been a stray until a woman picked her up and gave her a home. The woman was a close friend of my mother’s, and when she was dying of cancer, she entrusted Jenny, her cat, over to my parents. As a newborn, Jenny was the first friend I was introduced to. She would curl up next to me in bed while I slept. My mom always said that it looked like she was guarding over me. I grew up with Jenny and watched her die when I was seven years old. Since then, I had always wanted to help out with animals. Until high school, I had no idea how to make a difference.

My family later had a dog, two gerbils, and a fish tank. We would often pass through Petsmart looking for toys and treats for our pets. I hated walking out of Petsmart because we had to pass through cages upon cages of animals locked up. Because we had a dog, we would never be able to adopt a cat, and it tore my heart to have to pass by all those longing animals that we could never take home. Whenever we stopped to look at them, I could always see the question in their eyes, wondering where we were going and if we would take them out. It always made me feel guilty to have to leave them. Then, when I was fifteen years old, I first heard about an organization called Hope for the Animals. What drew me in was that they were a no-kill shelter that was always looking for volunteers. I didn’t know exactly what they expected me to do, so I looked for more information. One thing they needed was someone to let the cats out of their cages and take care of them for an hour whenever possible. They needed exercise, people contact, human voices, and care.

Some of these cats were abandoned because the family couldn’t care for them any longer and walked out. Sometimes, it was more than someone simply dropping the cat off or moving house without leaving their pet with someone. One cat’s owners threw her out of a car window before she wound up at Hope for the Animals. Some of the animals would initially retreat inside their cage and never want to come out. One cat remained almost motionless and shook whenever people looked at her. As a volunteer, I feel that it’s my job to try to show them that not all people in the world are like that. They need to learn how to trust people again if they ever want to find a home. Of course, after such traumatic experiences, one could not blame them for acting in such a way. However, if the cats don’t learn to come out of their shells and greet people when visitors stop by, they will never find a home. No one would want to take home an animals who doesn’t come to see them or avoids their touch altogether.

People pass through Petsmart all the time. I’m sure these cats have seen numerous people stopping by the glass to look in on them, and countless children have probably asked their parents, “Mommy, can we have one?” before being rushed along. People are always interested in browsing by on their way through the store. However, cats are living creatures that need more than faces stopping to look at them through the glass. They need more than being glanced at, pointed at, and given a glance over to decide on whether or not they should be taken home. The unique gift a volunteer can give is the gift of her time towards the animals. At Hope for the Animals, I have the chance to go into the room behind the glass with them and spent time getting to know all of the cats individually. Every week, my mother and sister take me to spend an hour there. I have the chance to let the cats out of their cages and let them run and play under my supervision. They would not be allowed out without someone to watch them for the chance of getting into a fight with another cat, getting loose, etc. The last time I visited, I saw one of the kittens clawing at her cage, desperate to get out.

I love setting them free to play after so many hours of being locked up. Sometimes, I’ll roll small balls across the room for the cats to chase, or, other times, we might play with dangly cat toys. Without volunteers coming in to be with them, the cats would spend their entire lives in their cages. It’s important to have someone in the room with them to watch over the group in order to break up any fighting that may erupt. The most rewarding part of my job is when the shyer cats finally do come out of their shells and interact with people. There have been some who have avoided my touch at first or kept away when I walked in. Even if they aren’t ready to greet me right away, there are other ways to reach out to them. I understand that sometimes they need me to take it slow. Just by being next to them and talking to them, the cats get used to my scent and voice. After a while of moving a toy near them, they eventually move out to grab it. Over time, the cats become more and more engaged in the game, or they’ll grow so used to seeing me that they’ll allow me to stroke them.

I also love watching them grow closer together. After living together for so long, the cats come to think of each other as their brothers and sisters. If one of the cats is quieter than the others, there are always cats there to come over and check on how they’re doing. I’m glad to know that they improve over time and aren’t trapped in the isolation and distress that their pasts left them with. The more outgoing they become, and the more they learn to trust people, the more the cats are likely to get adopted. It brings me a sense of peace knowing that in spending time with each cat, I’m helping to find him or her a home, and in essence, building a better life.