Pink Paws & Purrs
Pawprints On Our Hearts
Every Cat Has a Story.
Some Become Part of Ours.
Every cat who enters our care leaves something behind.
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A lesson in patience. A moment of trust. A laugh we didn't expect. Sometimes, a story we will carry forever.
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These are the cats who have shaped Pink Paws & Purrs and the families who trusted us enough to become part of their lives.
Saving Smokey
When noticing the little things became lifesaving care.
Merriweather
I never planned on being a three-cat person. Smokey just showed up one day in L.A. during the pandemic, friendly as anything. Then Froggy followed her in—feral, suspicious, but determined. And Merryweather was one of my bottle-fed kittens, found in a box at the dump in the dead of winter in Minnesota. Somehow, they all ended up together with me.
Smokey didn’t want to give up the street life at first. But the day she came home with a broken back leg, her outside-only adventure days were over. By the time we moved from California to Florida, she had learned to love indoor comforts. Froggy, who once bolted at the sound of footsteps, rode across the country with us—crate trained, medicated, and eventually discovering he liked air conditioning more than he liked hiding. Merryweather just adapted like she always does.
The move was chaos. Three cats, each with their own food, meds, and routines. We couldn’t have done it without Pawsitively Pink. They cared for Smokey and Merryweather while we flew back to pick up Froggy. They sent photos, updates, handled the quirks and complexities like it was nothing. That was the moment I knew: these were our people.
Months later, Smokey almost didn’t make it. I noticed on our camera that she hadn’t eaten breakfast. But before I could spiral, the Pawsitively Pink team was already at the house. They knew her well enough to see immediately: something was wrong. Lethargic, hunched in pain. They rushed her to the ER, stayed by her side for hours, called me with updates until she was admitted. Later, at the University of Florida, we heard the words I can’t forget: ‘Your pet sitters saved her life.’
Smokey had severe necrotizing pancreatitis. Not every cat survives. She pulled through because someone noticed. Someone acted. That someone wasn’t me—it was them.
Now, when I travel, I don’t just feel relief. I feel gratitude. Smokey, Froggy, Merryweather—they’re not easy cats. But they’re alive, and thriving, and cared for.
If they could talk? Smokey would say, ‘Thanks for saving my life.’ Froggy would say, ‘Thanks for feeding me.’ And Merryweather? Probably, ‘Thanks for not petting me.’”
“Your pet sitters saved her life.”
— University of Florida Veterinary Hospital
If They Could Tell the Story Themselves…
Smokey: "Thanks for saving my life"
Froggy: "Thanks for feeding me"
Merryweather: "Thanks for not petting me"
Sometimes the smallest change tells us the biggest story.
Saving Riley
Riley's Clues Were Small. Then He Fell.
Riley was a ten year old tabby I was caring for while his family was away. His sister Lily had hyperthyroidism and took methimazole.
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At my nine a.m. visit, Riley came over to greet me with unusual enthusiasm.
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​A friendly cat might sound like good news. But Riley wasn't usually that friendly. I also noticed his feet seemed to slip on the floor. My business partner had cared for him before, so I asked her whether Riley had arthritis, or whether she had ever seen him move that way. She hadn't. I let his owners know what I was seeing.
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​They had noticed the slipping too, and thought it might be because the floor had recently been washed. That was a reasonable possibility. I kept watching.
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​When I returned at four p.m., the cats' large water bowl was empty. I alerted the owners. They explained that Lily drank more because of her condition, and that Riley was on a urinary diet that made him thirsty. They asked me to set out another bowl, which I did.
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Each detail had a possible explanation. Together, they stayed on my mind.
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​The next morning I opened the door and saw Riley swaying toward the litter box. He fell into it and urinated. His urine looked foamy, and my years in a veterinary clinic told me that was one more thing worth paying attention to. When he climbed back out, he staggered and fell several more times.
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​This was not a cat with stiff hips.
I contacted my business partner immediately. She called the owners while I got the carriers. Because we already had an emergency plan in place, I knew where Riley's carrier was, and the emergency clinic knew we were coming.​
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Within forty five minutes of the start of my visit, including a twenty five minute drive, Riley was at the clinic.​
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​His blood glucose was over 600 mg/dL. He was diagnosed with diabetes.
His family began the three hour drive home from their vacation. We stayed with Riley until they arrived.
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​Today Riley's glucose is monitored with a FreeStyle Libre, he takes insulin, and he is still a happy boy.
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I think about Riley whenever someone asks what a pet sitter really does during a visit. We provide food, water, clean litter boxes, and companionship. We also learn what is normal for each cat, notice when something changes, tell the family what we see, and act when a cat needs help.​
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What Riley's Family Said
“Pawsitively Pink took care of my cats over the weekend. One of my cats, Riley, got very sick. They called us and took him to the emergency vet. They know exactly what they’re doing. If you’re looking for a pet sitter, these are the people. They’re professionals. You cannot go wrong with them.”
— Eric Lando
Google Review
For Riley, it began with a greeting that felt a little out of character.
Remembering Baby
The Cat We Had Only Seen Under the Bed
Before a trip, one of our clients updated Baby's care instructions. She had started adding a supplement to Baby's water, one capful a day, to help with her health.​
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I asked about it on the phone. She told me Baby had a sore.
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​During previous visits, we had only caught brief glimpses of Baby under the bed. I made a note of what her owner had told me, but the mention of a sore stayed with me. We had never been close enough to see it ourselves.
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​At the first visit, we prepared her food and refreshed her water according to the updated instructions. The next day, her food was untouched. I told her owner.
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​When I returned again, I walked in and caught Baby trying to take a bite of food.
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​I froze. I had never really seen her out from under the bed, and I didn't want to frighten her away while she was trying to eat.
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Then I saw her face. It looked distorted. Both sides of her mouth appeared swollen, and saliva was coming from it. She slipped back under the bed before I could get a good look. I used my phone's light to check what I had seen. It looked the same in the light.​​​
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I called her owner, who was in England, and explained that this looked much more serious than a sore. I asked whether Baby had seen a veterinarian. She told me she had tried to take her before, but Baby had bitten her. She didn't know how to get her there safely. Her emergency contact was her mother, who was over eighty and could not transport a cat.
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I asked if she wanted us to try. She was understandably unsure. I explained how worried I was about Baby, and asked what she would want us to do if Baby's condition worsened, or if Baby died while she was still away. She understood the urgency and asked us to get her to a veterinarian.
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Patricia and I were able to get Baby into a carrier and take her in. Her owner's mother met us at the clinic.​
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The diagnosis was mouth cancer. Baby was euthanized that day.
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Before saying goodbye, her mother was able to hold her for the first time. We took photos so her owner could have those moments too.
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This was a deeply sad outcome. I share it because her owner loved Baby and was facing a problem she didn't know how to solve. Once we could see what was happening, our job was to tell her plainly, listen, and help her cat get care.
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​Sometimes paying attention means noticing what is in front of you. Sometimes it means remembering the small concern that stayed with you until you finally have a chance to look closer.
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