Salty

Hi, I’m Salty.<br/>I’m not sure how to begin — humans still scare me a little. Maybe it’s because I was alone for so long, trying to protect my two tiny babies in a cold, dark garage. I was just a baby myself — barely a year old — and already a mama, doing my best to keep us safe.<br/>When people finally found me, I hissed. I still do, sometimes. Not because I’m mean, but because I’ve only ever known fear. The world has been a loud, unfamiliar place full of hands I didn’t understand and sounds I didn’t trust. But even then... I didn’t run. I stayed, because somewhere deep down, I want to believe in kindness. I want to believe in you.<br/><br/>I’m a petite little tuxedo girl — small, pretty, with wide eyes that are always watching. You might see me tucked in the corner, heart racing, but look a little closer and you’ll see it: that flicker of hope. The way I lean just a tiny bit closer when you speak gently. The way I pause before hissing now, as if I’m trying to remember what it feels like to not be scared.<br/><br/>What I need is someone patient. Someone who sees past the fear and knows that love can be slow, but when it’s real, it’s worth it. I want to learn what it feels like to be safe. To be touched with kindness, not caution. To fall asleep without keeping one eye open. To purr — maybe not today, or tomorrow, but someday soon.<br/><br/>I may not be the cat who runs into your arms on day one. But I will be the cat who teaches you the quiet power of trust. Of healing. Of second chances.<br/><br/>Please... if you have space in your heart for a little soul still learning how to love, I’m here. Waiting.<br/><br/>Love,<br/>Salty<br/><br/><br/>If interested, the first step is to go to our web site and fill out an adoption application at: thepetrefuge.org and print and fill it out and email back to ShelterManager@thepetrefuge.org.. Filling out an adoption application is always the first step. You can also call the shelter at 401-294-1115 with any questions. Currently, visits to the shelter are by appointment only for approved applications, so please fill out an application, then email it into us . Or, if you prefer, you can print it out on paper, fill it out, and drop it off. The manager will be in touch with you about an appointment for a visit, once your application has been approved. We also invite you to follow us on Facebook under Pet Refuge, and Tiktok under petrefugenk.

Hi, I’m Salty.
I’m not sure how to begin — humans still scare me a little. Maybe it’s because I was alone for so long, trying to protect my two tiny babies in a cold, dark garage. I was just a baby myself — barely a year old — and already a mama, doing my best to keep us safe.
When people finally found me, I hissed. I still do, sometimes. Not because I’m mean, but because I’ve only ever known fear. The world has been a loud, unfamiliar place full of hands I didn’t understand and sounds I didn’t trust. But even then... I didn’t run. I stayed, because somewhere deep down, I want to believe in kindness. I want to believe in you.

I’m a petite little tuxedo girl — small, pretty, with wide eyes that are always watching. You might see me tucked in the corner, heart racing, but look a little closer and you’ll see it: that flicker of hope. The way I lean just a tiny bit closer when you speak gently. The way I pause before hissing now, as if I’m trying to remember what it feels like to not be scared.

What I n

Hi, I’m Salty.
I’m not sure how to begin — humans still scare me a little. Maybe it’s because I was alone for so long, trying to protect my two tiny babies in a cold, dark garage. I was just a baby myself — barely a year old — and already a mama, doing my best to keep us safe.
When people finally found me, I hissed. I still do, sometimes. Not because I’m mean, but because I’ve only ever known fear. The world has been a loud, unfamiliar place full of hands I didn’t understand and sounds I didn’t trust. But even then... I didn’t run. I stayed, because somewhere deep down, I want to believe in kindness. I want to believe in you.

I’m a petite little tuxedo girl — small, pretty, with wide eyes that are always watching. You might see me tucked in the corner, heart racing, but look a little closer and you’ll see it: that flicker of hope. The way I lean just a tiny bit closer when you speak gently. The way I pause before hissing now, as if I’m trying to remember what it feels like to not be scared.

What I need is someone patient. Someone who sees past the fear and knows that love can be slow, but when it’s real, it’s worth it. I want to learn what it feels like to be safe. To be touched with kindness, not caution. To fall asleep without keeping one eye open. To purr — maybe not today, or tomorrow, but someday soon.

I may not be the cat who runs into your arms on day one. But I will be the c