Pink Paws & Purrs
CAT CARE
Pawsprints On Our Hearts
Every Cat Has a Story.
Some Become Part of Ours.
Every cat who enters our care leaves something behind.
​
A lesson in patience. A moment of trust. A laugh we didn't expect. Sometimes, a story we will carry forever.
​
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
When a Change in His Walk Became a Warning
At Riley’s first 9 a.m. visit, nothing immediately screamed emergency.
​
I noticed that he seemed to be slipping a little as he walked across the floor. Riley was an older cat, so I called my business partner, who had cared for him before, and asked whether he had any known hip issues. Arthritis seemed like a reasonable possibility, and I continued with his normal visit.
​
Later that afternoon, something else caught my attention.
​
The large water bowl I had filled that morning was completely empty.
​
I mentioned it to Riley’s family. There were reasonable explanations: his feline housemate had hyperthyroidism and was known to drink more, and Riley ate a urinary diet that could also make him thirsty. His family asked me to put out an additional bowl of water.
​
The explanation made sense.
​
But something still didn’t feel quite right.
The next morning, I watched Riley attempt to make his way to the litter box. He was so unsteady that he fell into it. He righted himself and urinated, but when he climbed back out, I noticed that his urine appeared foamy.
An unusual change we documented during Riley’s visit.
My veterinary-clinic experience told me that this was another detail worth paying attention to.
​
Then I watched Riley try to walk from one room to another.
​
This was no longer a cat who simply looked as though he might have stiff hips.
​
Riley was profoundly unsteady. He stumbled and fell several times.
​
I knew this was not normal for him.
The Change We Couldn't Ignore
By the next morning, Riley’s difficulty walking had progressed dramatically. This was no longer a subtle change.
I immediately called Riley’s family and we talked through the next steps. Because we already had an emergency plan in place, I knew where his carrier was located. The emergency veterinary clinic was contacted and knew we were coming.
​
Riley’s family began the three-hour drive home while we transported him for care.
​
At the clinic, Riley was taken in immediately and bloodwork was performed.
​
His blood glucose was over 600 mg/dL.
​
Riley was diagnosed with diabetes.
​
We stayed with him until his family arrived.
​
Today, Riley’s glucose is monitored with a FreeStyle Libre, he receives insulin, and most importantly, he’s still a happy boy.
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 Landau
Google Review
Sometimes life saving care begins with simply knowing when something isn't normal.
Remembering Skittles
Remembering Skittles
I never planned on adopting a small dog. I already had a big black Lab who was my whole world. But then I met Skittles. His owner was going to surrender him because he kept escaping. They’d scold him, even spank him, when he was found. I couldn’t let that be his future.
At first, he really was an escape artist. My daughter made him a tag that said: ‘Hi, my name is Skittles. I got lost chasing lizards and chicks.’ But instead of punishing him, we always scooped him up, called him a good boy, and gave him treats. Little by little, he stopped running away.
​
​​Skittles was diagnosed with an enlarged heart, and later had surgery to remove a.1 pound tumor under his armpit. He recovered, but as time passed, his breathing got worse. One morning, he collapsed, and I knew—after everything—we had reached the moment when the kindest gift was to let him go.
After my Lab, Bear, passed, Skittles had become my buddy, my side sleeper, my comforter. I never thought I’d love a little dog so much. But Skittles imprinted on my heart in ways I didn’t expect. I’ll always remember his wagging tail, his joy for pup cups, and his sparkle chasing lizards. He wasn’t just my dog. He was family.
Saving Smokey
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.’”
​