Munchkin

When I first started working in this field, I worked at the Humane Society. Although I saw a lot of pain, I also saw some happy endings as well. Here is one such story:


Munchkin

It was another ordinary day at the shelter, too many animals being admitted, not enough being adopted. In spite of the overcrowding, my heart goes out to these poor lost souls, and as I go about my work, I try and come up with solutions to a seemingly impossible problem…..

My thoughts are interrupted by a tiny gray tabby that catches my eye. He is huddled in his little cage, head buried, body tense; afraid to make eye contact, wanting to disappear. My heart goes out to him; he is new here, and even though this is a better place for him, it is not any less frightening for such a little angel. I find out this kitten’s story from the humane officer: some neighborhood kids were abusing him; a Good Samaritan reported it and this little guy was rescued. At this point, he has been checked in and given a name: Munchkin. He appears to be about 5 weeks old.

I think it goes without saying that animal abuse angers me beyond what I can express. And it’s even worse when children are responsible because 1. They have obviously learned it from an adult, and 2. If they are starting to abuse an animal now, it will worsen as they grow older.

I decide to pay close attention to Munchkin to see if he will come around. Normally when animals are brought into the shelter, they are scared, but as time goes on they adjust with the help of very caring staff members. I was hoping that would hold true for Munchkin, and yet I am worried.

Over the next couple days I noticed little change; poor Munchkin would bury his face between his paws, wanting to hide, and hoping to disappear. I would try to hold him and love him in between my many chores, but couldn’t elicit a response except for a faint glimmer in his eyes….there was hope, but he needed more. I knew what I had to do.

I spoke with the kennel manager about fostering Munchkin, knowing it would be fine. One of the sad facts about shelters is that there are more animals waiting than there is cage space; so they were happy to allow me to take Munchkin home and give the extra cage to another lost soul. And at 5 weeks, Munchkin was too young to be adopted.

I took Munchkin home, determined to make him feel what it is to be truly loved; what it is to be a kitten again. I held him every chance I could; spoke softly to him, gave him kisses and head butts, and told him that he was loved and wanted…over time I think he understood. I also played with him and showed him how kittens are supposed to play. In no time, Munchkin was acting like a normal kitten; happy playful, and healed from the scars of abuse. He also had doting “grandparents” (thanks to my mom and dad).

Finally the time came to take Munchkin back to the shelter so that he could be put up for adoption. I held him and gave him a kiss, as I put him in a large cage with several other kittens. He looked at me intently for a moment, as if to say thank you, the scampered off to meet his new friends. Clearly this was not the same kitten I’d taken home several weeks earlier. And I knew at that moment that this why I am called to work with animals; while I may not always be able to heal their bodies, I can on some level, heal their souls.

Munchkin was adopted a few weeks later, along with one of his cage mates, to a very loving family with 2 nice boys. I didn’t facilitate the adoption, but I was working that day, so I was able to say goodbye, as well as meet Munchkin’s new family. And I knew that Munchkin would not only have a good life, but would enrich the lives of his new family, especially those 2 boys, who already had compassion for animals.

And as I watched them leave, I remembered how far Munchkin had come. And I thought to myself: out of darkness comes light; out of despair, comes hope. And it is possible be healed and live life fully again.


Ellen M. White
Copyright January 20, 2007