I don’t know about you, but when I die, I’m absolutely sure that I want to come back as a cat. Not just any cat, mind you, but one of my cats. My days would be filled with lounging leisurely on the back of the couch, watching butterflies and hummingbirds flit about in the yard. I’d stretch out and nap on the kitchen table, knowing full well that I wasn’t supposed to. I’d hide in the laundry basket under nice warm clothes, fresh out of the dryer. I’d pop out as they were being

I was raised by my grandparents on a small farm in rural Michigan. I was taught from an early age that your pet was a very important family member, and also a huge responsibility. To properly care for that pet, it took a strong commitment, a dash of common sense, and most importantly, a massive dose of selflessness. Their needs came first. High on that list of needs was medical care. Vets were few and far between. Thus, when an animal became ill or injured, we made do with me