Temple of Doom

I was named Indiana Jones because, just like in the movie, I, too, once escaped the Temple of Doom ... and lived to tell about it! So I guess you might say that this is a sort of adventure story!

I am about two years old and I am an all black kitty with great big green eyes. My mother spent most of her life on the streets and in very hard circumstances. Having one litter after another took a terrible toll on her health, so that by the time I was born, my poor mom was in a very weakened state. Even so, she was such a wonderful mother, and she did everything she could to take good care of my little sister and I.

My mother told us that she once had a lovely home to call her own, but her family moved away and had no place for her, so she was left behind. She was a fine-looking cat in those days, she said, but her hard life had dimmed the sparkle in her eyes and her lovely coat was now coarse and brittle.

One day my mother went out searching for food for us and never returned. I know that Mother would never have abandoned us, so I am sure that she must have fallen prey to some terrible misfortune. My sister and I were now all alone in the world.

After awhile, we grew very hungry and began to set up a howl from our hidden place behind some bushes. We cried and cried, but Mother never came. By the second day, we were growing very weak.

At last, we saw the bushes part and a lovely face peered in at us. With a soft voice, she reassured us that we were okay and that she would not hurt us. We scurried back into a deep corner of our bush, but we didn't really fight very hard. Actually, we were quite glad to see this person with the kind face, even though our mother had sternly warned us never to trust a human being.

Scooping us up in both hands, the kind lady put us in a metal box and took us away.

Our new adventure had just begun.

When we first arrived at The Temple of Doom, we thought it was a very nice place indeed! We were given a slightly bigger metal box to live in, and we were given food and water, which we hungrily lapped up.

After our hunger was satisfied, we were very curious about our new surroundings. We noticed that the room was full of many metal boxes and that in each one was a kitty, or sometimes two or three.

We were delighted! We must have landed in Kitty Heaven!

Eagerly, we began to paw at the bars of our cage. "Let us out!" we cried to an old Tom, who was in a box directly across from ours. "We want to explore this place and meet all the other cats!"

The old Tom raised his tired head and looked at us in a way that quieted us right away. "Be still, " he growled. "Don't you know anything? Stop drawing attention to yourself."

"But we want to come out and play!" we protested. "This is such a nice place and we are so happy to be warm and well-fed."

The old Tom just shook his head. "Look around you! Do the other cats look happy to be here?"

We craned our necks, and indeed, the other kitties were lying in their cages in utter despair.

"What's wrong with them?" we cried in dismay.

"They know what you have yet to realize," said the old Tom. "You have been brought to The Temple of Doom, Son. You must pray for all that enter here. This is a very bad place."

Fear began to creep slowly up my spine. "What is the Temple of Doom? Why, it can't be so bad! Look, we have been fed and given fresh, clean water! How can this be a bad place?"

"Son," the old Tom replied. "The Temple of Doom is a human institution. It was created by humans for all of us who are not wanted, who are sick, or just too old to ever find a home."

"But is that so bad?" I inquired. "At least, if all of us are unwanted, we can live together in this nice place for the rest of our lives!"

A look of deep sadness crossed the old Tom's face. "Son, have you noticed the little signs on each of our cages? Some are yellow, like yours, and some are black, like mine. The yellow signs mean that there is still hope for you. You and your sister have three days before you, too, will receive a black sign like mine."

"And what does the black sign mean?" I cried in alarm.

"The black sign means that my time is up. They will come and get me today and I will be put down, Son."

"No! That can't be true! You are a fine old Tom! Just look at you! Surely, someone must want you!"

"People don't want old Toms like me, Son. They like young and frisky kittens, like your little sister there." He shook his head sadly. "But for you, my little one, it doesn't look too good. Although you are young and frisky and quite good-looking, unfortunately, you are all black. And black kitties have almost as hard a time finding a good home as us old Toms do."

Suddenly, the door swung open and a tall, older man entered the room. In his arms he carried a small box similar to the one which held us when we were first brought in to The Temple of Doom. He headed straight to the old Tom's cage.

"Sorry, Tom, " he said with a voice of deep regret. "Time for us to go now."

The old Tom struggled to his feet with a tear in his eye. "For me, it is too late. But I shall say a prayer for you and your sweet little sister upon my final breath, little one." And with that, the old Tom was gone.

The days slowly passed. On the second day, a nice lady and her cute little girl came in and quickly fell in love with my sister, a cute calico kitten. She didn't want to leave me, and cried pitifully when they pried her from our cage. But at last, she too, was gone, and I was alone.

On the third day, the tall, older man once again returned to our room. He sadly removed the yellow sign from my cage and replaced it with a black one, just like the one that had been on the old Tom's cage.

Everything the old Tom had told me was true! No one wanted a little black kitty like me.

I crawled to the back of my cage, huddled there in a tight little ball and cried.

The next morning, as I was listening with dread for the footfalls of the taller, older man, I suddenly saw a lady walk in and approach my cage. "You poor little thing," she said, and a tear slipped down her face. She reached inside my cage and gently stroked my head. And with that, she reached up and removed the black sign on my cage. "I'll be back," she promised. "Don't worry, little one, I'll be back."

After about thirty minutes, the tall, older man entered the room. I scrambled to the back of my cage and howled in fear. "It's okay, it's okay," he said. "A rescue lady is here and has found a place for you and you will be leaving here today."

It has been a long time since that day, when I first saw Annie and was rescued from The Temple of Doom. I now live at Purr-Angels where there are no black signs and every day is full of hope that today will be the day that I find my special person at last.

But at night, I still think about The Temple of Doom. I remember the old Tom, and all the others who are there today, praying for a good home while there is still time.

Please, won't you adopt a shelter animal?

Our only hope is YOU!

And most of all, if you do visit the Temple of Doom, please reach deep inside your heart and consider adopting an older pet ... perhaps one just like my mother, whose eyes have dimmed and lost their sparkle ... or maybe even a little black kitty, like me.