Have you ever heard of the old saying, "Everything happens for a reason"?

Well, the following story is a true testimony of the old adage and my love for animals.

There comes a point in one's life that they learn they're one of two persons. They're either:
1. An Animal Person
2. Not An Animal Person
I'm most certainly not knocking the individual that doesn't like animals. Some individuals have a genuine fear or dislike for a variety of reasons; but, me, I am the epitome of an animal person.

I. LOVE. ANIMALS.

Growing up, I was often babysat at my grandparent's house where my grandmother exposed me to my true love for animals. It was there my obsession began. Her house, at that time, was home to at least four inside cats of varying breed: the Siamese kitten, the Calico, the Tabby, and the Tom Cat. On the outside, she fed the neighborhood's cats, made makeshift beds during the winter to put on her porch, and even occasionally brought the small kittens inside.

Cats weren't their only love. My grandfather took a particular interest in birds in the neighborhood and began to put several bird feeders in the areas where the cats didn't reign. He could spend hours bird watching and using his camera to snap photos of the varying birds as they passed by.

I took this particular interest home with me every day and when I finally turned four my parents got me my first kitten, Oliver. Yes, he was so named after the orphaned kitten in the Disney movie, Oliver & Company (1988). My dad had driven all the way to Indiana (that unforeseen land to a young Kentuckian) to retrieve this precious cargo for me!

As I grew older and my little brothers were born, I continued to hear stories from other kids in my class who had two animals or even three animals. Although I was eternally grateful for my cat, Oliver; I always had wondered what it would be like to have another animal to be Oliver's buddy. After all, my nine-year-old self thought the animal life sure could get lonely. Oliver needed a buddy and I was going to be adamant about it.

It wasn't until I was seventeen years old that something amazing happened...

During my high school years, rescuing animals and helping unfortunate animals became a big thing as probably exposed by the disheartening Sarah McLachlan "Angel" commercials that my mother and I cried to but could never work up the courage to change the channel. In my heart, I knew when I got my own house, I would want to adopt or rescue my own animals. I just didn't realize how soon that time may come.

One winter night, three days or so before Christmas, my mother pulled into the driveway. As she opened her door, a friendly Beagle/Jack Russel mix dog tried to jump in her car. My mom patted the small dog's head and continued her walk inside. The dog, however, had other plans. The pooch followed alongside her and walked up to the porch. He sat next to the door anxiously waiting to go inside. My mom scurried into the door.

"There's a stray dog outside." Mom opened the window blinds in the living room and there he was. "Maybe try to see if anyone has posted about him being lost online. If not, we'll take him to the shelter to check for a chip."

I looked outside and watched the friendly dog's tail wag uncontrollably when he caught a glimpse of me. I searched the internet, feeling sorry for the dog, trying to find an answer. What I found broke my heart. The last week, or so, someone had been dumping animals in our neighborhood and a neighbor had posted to the association page that a dog, that looked exactly like this one, had been tossed out of the car and abandoned as the vehicle sped away.

I ran to my mom and begged her for the dog, texted my dad while he was at work that night and begged him for the dog, and asked friends if they wanted him (worse case scenario). It was so cold that night so we opened up our garage halfway and piled blankets and pillows for the dog. Three days had passed and the dog regularly stayed at our house and wouldn't leave. The third night, around 4 o'clock in the morning, my dad let the dog in the house.

"He's ours." My dad said as the pup rushed into my bedroom bouncing on the warm bed.

"What's his name?"

"We'll call em, Lucky."

"Why Lucky?"

"Because we're lucky he found us."

Oliver finally had a playmate. Even though they didn't really get along at first, Oliver had a companion for the last two years of his kitty life. When Oliver did pass away, I was pretty devastated and so was Lucky. Animals just kind of know when something's up.

But, as everything happens for a reason, one Memorial Weekend passed and an abandoned kitten arrived at my boyfriend's lake house. She was loving, sweet, and the tiniest thing I've ever seen. She was perfect and I had to bring her home. Captain Jackie, appropriately named, was our second animal who was a stray that we rescued into our home.

I see it every day as I'm sure many of you all do. There're stray animals literally on almost every street. Now, I'm not advocating take in every single animal you see. I'm simply saying sometime's animals deserve a second chance and everything happens for a reason. Now, both of my animals have a home where they are loved and there's other animals out there who deserve the same chance!