Strider's story, as told by Heather, his mom:

"Strider came into our lives in September 2002, when I heard a meow from beneath a neighbor's car. Closer inspection revealed a very malnourished, young grey tomcat with a short, crooked tail. He answered when spoken to, but shied away at my approach. Unable to ignore a cat in need, I immediately offered food. He ate ravenously, but departed when the bowl was empty. I am a veterinary technician at a local veterinary hospital, and I decided that if the little grey kitty remained in our neighborhood, I would take him to work, test him for FeLV/FIV and get him neutered. After that, my husband and I would attempt to find him a good home. Needless to say, he showed up again a few days later, and allowed me to put him in a cat carrier. At the hospital, he was tested for FeLV/FIV (negative), vaccinated, and neutered. I planned to board him for a few days while we tried to find him a home.

Our initial attempts to place him were unsuccessful, and the little grey cat came home with me to "live in the garage" for a few days while we continued our search for a new owner. My husband and I were already sharing our 1100 square foot home with four indoor cats, and another addition was out of the question. But once I arrived home with my new buddy, I just couldn't put him in the garage (so dark!). He took up residence under the dining room table, not really caring what the other cats were up to. He was happy just to hang out inside.

Another week passed, and our temporary boarder now had a name. My husband called him Strider, after the character in "Lord of the Rings". I gave him his middle name, Piglet, in honor of his curly tail.

One night during this period of time, I noticed Strider had assumed a strange body posture. He was hunkered down with his neck stretched out as though he was having trouble breathing. I know from my job when cats don't look right, and Strider did not look right. I took him to work with me the following day, thinking perhaps he might have a diaphragmatic hernia. The idea seemed plausible; he may have been hit by a car during his days as a stray, which could have caused this to occur.

Instead of the easily corrected hernia I was hoping for, Strider's chest x-rays revealed a severely enlarged heart. An ultrasound and blood work followed. What we learned was that Strider had a congenital defect - a hole between two chambers of his heart. His heart had become enlarged from working overtime to pump blood. Prognosis was grave. Medications could prolong his life, but there was no way to surgically repair this problem.

I spoke to my husband right after the diagnosis, tears tightening my throat. We had become quite attached to this little guy, and even though we didn't plan to keep him permanently, my husband (the saint) immediately insisted that Strider remain with us for whatever time he had left.

We soon learned that Strider loved toys, especially the little rabbit fur mice with tails. I have never seen a cat take playtime quite so seriously. You can almost see the little wheels in his head turning as he carefully selects a mouse from his toy basket. He enjoys pulling them by their tails, carrying them to a chair or the edge of the sofa, and pouncing on them again and again. My husband and I are constantly retrieving lost mice from behind the couch, the bookcase, the stove- anywhere a little toy mouse can hide. He is a joy to observe as he regularly invents new ways to torture those mousies. Strider also loves to hide beneath his makeshift fort fashioned from an old quilt, springing out with delight to ambush all cats who dare to walk past his encampment.

Strider must take medication twice a day, and we've worked out a routine greatly aided by the fact that Strider is extremely food motivated. After each pill, he is rewarded with a treat - leftover rotisserie chicken, tuna, kitty treats, canned cat food, etc. With goodies in his special bowl and kisses on his nose, he is a willing patient, and it is virtually no struggle to medicate him.

It has been nine months since Strider joined our family, and he has become the love of our lives. At night we are treated to massages, face rubs, and nose kisses when he tucks us into bed. His nightly ritual lets us know how much he loves us, and we look forward to nose kissing and face rubbing him right back. His disease has progressed, making it harder for him to breathe when he gets worked up, and he must now rest between playtime sessions. We have learned to take each day as it comes, and we appreciate all our special moments with him. We are truly blessed to have Strider in our lives as our soul mate and our teacher."