Damian, the Rocky Balboa of the Cat World

Damian, who made his dreams come true — artwork courtesy of the artist author

Like a true gritty “underdog,” Damian first entered my life as a fighter just looking for his shot at making his dreams come true. I took a while to realize why he was fighting with all of his might and every ounce of his heart.

He began attacking my cats when I took them out for walks right after new neighbors moved in. I followed him and saw him go toward that house.

Most days, I’d scare Damian off and get my cats inside, but occasionally Damian would attack. I thought “any normal cat would not want to be anywhere near me by now.” Then one day I could see in Damian’s eyes that the harder I tried to scare him away, the harder he tried to stay.

Like a child acting out because he has no words to ask for help, Damian was making his desperation known.

When Damian popped up between two of my cats, I knew I couldn’t get to both of them before Damian attacked so I grabbed Damian. My cats made it inside and I let go of Damian.

With blood running down my arm from his bite, I knocked on the door of the people I thought brought him here. The woman answering admitted they brought him and told me to go wash off the blood — that’s nothing — stop bothering her.

That was my first clue as to why Damian was so angry. Imagine the only human you know is a sociopath.

Damian and I managed to work out a middle ground. He’d follow me back to “that” house and they’d take him inside for 30 minutes so I could close my garage door without him staying inside the garage.

He tore open my cat food bags and ate in the garage, so I took the completely irresponsible people he was supposed to live with that food to feed him at their house. I took them catnip they could give Damian to make him happier at their house.

Several nights after midnight, I heard cats fighting and went out to find him. He’d spend the rest of the night in my garage. Soon I could just open the garage door and call him and he’d come in just like he was my cat. He didn’t want to fight. He was just forced into a violent life by the cruelty of people.

Damian sneaked into my house through the door once and ripped his way in through the window screen on an Easter morning. He had seen “the promised land” and he would not be denied. Maybe he just understood my cats were happy and he wanted to feel like they did.

He started living in the nursery room behind a closed door while my cats had the rest of the house. I could take my cats out for a walk without Damian attacking them, get them inside, and next take him out for a walk. It was years before I dared try to pick him up again after that first bite.

Eventually, I could. He mellowed. We had more cat fights, but no serious injuries and finally we made it through a year without a fight. Damian proved that he “could go the distance.”

He did become a champion. He would lie on my chest, his little paws folded under, happy to stare into my eyes secure in the knowledge that he had a home. He had a human who actually cared. He didn’t need to fight anymore.

By fighting with all of his might and every ounce of his heart, he had made his dreams come true. He could live freely in the house with the other cats. He could sleep in bed with the other cats. He could go out for walks with the other cats.

He had fought his way to “the promised land.”

Where we live, cats don’t have a chance. The so-called “humane” society kills cats.

A co-worker’s mom took a cat with kittens there so people would adopt her kittens. She put a $70 deposit on the mother cat to get her back after her kittens were adopted. The “humane” society killed the mother cat when she protected her kittens from these strangers she had never seen before just like any good mom would have.

A rescue group placing cats in barns had such a long list that Damian couldn’t get wait listed. The group said he was better off in town because coyotes killed the cats they put in barns. Coyotes killed two cats at the lake a couple of blocks from my house, too.

A volunteer at a different rescue group was working two jobs and trying to trap cats before the “humane” society killed them. The “humane” society didn’t even try to get adopters. They just caught and executed cats.

A death sentence, one way or another, awaits neglected cats here in wealthy America.

Of course, we could fund shelters that provide lifelong care. We could pay for food and vet care so more people could afford to house abandoned pets. We could stop selling pets until every precious life is wanted.

Pet stores in Colorado will not be able to sell cats and dogs starting in 2027 under a new law.

Supporters want to reduce demand for high-volume commercial breeders, like puppy mills, and encourage people to adopt from rescues and shelters.

“Communities can still connect with animals, but the pipeline that brought suffering into our state ends here and ends today,” said Colorado Democrat House Majority Leader Monica Duran, who sponsored the bill.

“We have seen the reports. We have seen sick puppies. We have seen families walk into stores believing they are supporting responsible practices, only to learn later that they financed cruelty and puppies were shipped from out of state,” Duran said. “If stronger standards alone worked, wouldn’t it already have worked?”

Coloradans will still be allowed to buy pets directly from breeders, who know the parentage and genetics. Pet stores will be allowed to work with rescue organizations and host adoption events, but they will not be allowed to get pets from brokers and sell them for profit.

The Colorado Federation of Dog Clubs and Owners, the Flatirons Kennel Club, and the Rocky Mountain Pet Dealers Association opposed the bill.

Not one of these groups stepped up to help us pay for the food and shelter we have been providing neglected cats and dogs in Colorado. Not one of these groups helped pay vet bills we have paid for neglected cats and dogs in Colorado.

Finally, desperate animals like Damian and the people who care about them are being heard. May more animals reach “the promised land” without having to fight as hard and as long as dear Damian.

With his long fight over, Damian made friends with a little boy who moved in across the street. A woman also told me that her dog loved walking by our house because Damian came out to greet her dog. With a happy home, Damian began to share his happiness with others.