“My name is Hero. I don’t know what that means – actually, I don’t even know what it means to have a name – but the ladies who pulled me from the garage from the Hoarding house of Hell said it was because I never gave up and I am their hero. I guess that is a good thing.

I remember that day. I couldn’t stand up. I wasn’t even hungry anymore, I had been hungry for so long that it finally went away. I heard all of these people voices. They were saying things like, “do we have them all?” and “where else should we look?”. I didn’t really like people voices because they were so mean, but these people voices were different. So I meowed. It was hard, but it made the voices stop and say things like, “did you hear that?” and “ I think I hear something, where is it coming from?”. So I kept meowing, and I kept meowing as loud as I could and suddenly the garage door went up and light came in and someone grabbed me and put me in something they called a live trap. I still don’t know what that was, but I could breathe. I couldn’t stand up, but it didn’t matter. There was food in there and the trap place was covered up and the ladies with the voices carried me away, away from where I could not get out, where there was no food, where it was dirty and hot.

I don’t remember a lot about the next few days. I saw lots of people called doctors and techs. I got lots and lots of something called medicine. And I got food…..and water….and it was warm, but not hot…….and clean……and there was a place called a litter box for you know what.

I started to see again, but I just kept my head down and looked down all of the time. It was too hard to hold my head up and it was still hard to walk. But the ladies had such nice voices and soft touches. My skin and fur was so, so dirty and itchy, but I got a bath and the hard parts called mats got shaved off. All of the bugs that kept biting my skin and my ears were suddenly gone. The ladies said medicine made them go away. And lots of medicine made it easier to breath and see and hear.

I am in a bunch of things called crates that are hooked together and I can walk now, and I walk from one end to the other. I am strong enough now to climb on these things called shelves. I can see – I love looking outside and feel the fresh air blowing on me. And I love looking at the ladies, they have soft voices and soft touches. It doesn’t hurt to go in the litter box anymore. And there is always food and water. Whenever I want. I don’t feel hungry anymore.
I hear the ladies talk sometimes about the Hoarding House of Hell and the garage there where I was. They call it a prison. I just remember that I could not get out, or move around, or have anything to eat or drink. And it smelled so, so bad.