The babies came from the barn cat where Sullivan was taking horseback-riding lessons, and the owner had actually threatened to drown the kittens.
A week later on, Sullivan’s mom learnt about the feline refugees, however Sullivan didn’t get in problem. Together, she and her mother embraced out each kitten — and a cat rescuer was born.
Since 1988, Sullivan has actually turned her enthusiasm for assisting cats into a profession, ultimately winding up at Pet Pride — a 45-year-old no-kill sanctuary and adoption center for cats. Sullivan is now the vice president of the growing not-for-profit.
The sanctuary and adoption center is hidden at the end of a long roadway in Victor, amidst 15 acres of rich forest. Word to the sensible: It’s extremely simple to miss out on the turn.
“Pet Pride was kind of a well-hidden secret, the little gem that not a lot of people knew about,” Sullivan says. “The word has really gotten out there.”
Indeed it has, and even aside from Sullivan, there’s a great deal of improvement walking around.
Pet Pride just recently started an enormous growth to the tune of $1.2 million dollars, thanks to a mix of grants and benefactors. These funds enable the organization to, to name a few things, supply veterinary care to cats internal, instead of depending on the already stretched-thin animal healthcare facilities throughout the Rochester location.
A modern surgical center was a huge part of the growth. It’s run by co-founder, Dr. Stuart Gluckman, who has years of experience practicing veterinary medication, and an enthusiasm for assisting cats.
“They’re just all just begging for a home, and their life is up for grabs, and it’s kind of up to us to save them and take care of them,” he says. “So it’s so rewarding.”
Spayings and neuterings will be a huge part of what they want to achieve with the brand-new surgical center. Gluckman said recently that he was getting ready to do 15 spay surgeries in just one day — something that would never have been possible before the expansion.
But beyond that, Gluckman says they will be able to do “just about anything” at the surgical center, adding that the cost savings are significant.
“If someone’s walking around with one eye, for instance,” and they need surgery on the non-functioning one, “that would’ve been a small fortune to send out and have done elsewhere,” he says, looking around on the ground for someone.
As if on cue, a black-and-white tabby arrives seemingly out of nowhere, rubbing the side of his body along whatever walls, furniture, and humans he can access. Like many other cats there, he is friendly, curious, and dignified. It takes a moment for Gluckman and Sullivan to realize who he is.
“Is this Mr. One Eye?” Sullivan asks.
The kitty (whose name is actually George, though he answers to both) looks up, indeed sporting just one eye.
“Look how good he’s doing,” says Sullivan, patting Mr. One Eye’s head. “He’s happy.”
Jasmin Singer
In addition to the surgical center, the brand-new-and-improved facility has a separate intake room, a sitting room for possible adopters to meet the cats, many enrichment areas for the animals, a kitten castle and six large catios — each made out of super-resilient redwood to withstand Rochester winters.
Every single detail — from the size of the enclosures to the countless cubby holes and ramps — was designed with the cats’ needs in mind. Even the sick bay has its own heating and cooling system in order to avoid possibly spreading illnesses.
Among Sullivan’s favorite parts of the expansion are two new apartments, Whiskers Lodge and Catnip Cabana, created so that already-bonded kitties can continue to live together.
Providing that attention to detail ultimately helps the cats thrive more quickly, she says.
“Once their stress levels go down,” says Sullivan, “they’re easier to adopt out.”
Being a no-kill shelter — one that does every effort to rehabilitate and rehome the feline residents — there is inherently a limit to the number of cats Pet Pride can take in.
“We never want to overcrowd, ’cause that doesn’t help the population at all,” Sullivan says.
The newly expanded facility can house between 75 and 80 cats.
But Pet Pride is more than simply a rescue; it’s also a sanctuary, which means there are select cats who permanently call Pet Pride their home. For various reasons, these are felines who are considered unadoptable and would thrive in a permanent environment like Pet Pride, rather than somebody’s house.
Minnie, Jonah, and Marge, for example, were three out of 39 cats the organization rescued as part of a hoarding situation. They were all packed in a trailer with no litter box or food anywhere to be seen.
So Pet Pride took them in and gave them the care and rehabilitation they needed, and all but these three were adopted out. According to Sullivan, they are too traumatized, and perhaps even feral. But they’ve made themselves comfortable at the rescue, so they get to stay.
“These guys are living their best life here now,” says Sullivan, smiling at Minnie, who sits atop a tall kitchen counter, gazing down.
Another example of a cat who would become a permanent resident, rather than be adopted out, would be one who has a terminal illness but whose quality of life is still considered good.
Take Koala, a cat who was rescued along with several others. When Koala went for her spay appointment, they found out she had mammary gland cancer. And although she underwent an operation to remove it, the prognosis was that it would return.
“I don’t know what other shelters would do,” says Sullivan, “but she lived here for a little over two years. We just lost her a couple of weeks ago.”
By the time Koala died, numerous of the staff had formed a strong bond with the cat, so much so that they named a room after her. In it hangs two big pictures of Koala — who Sullivan says invested completion of her life under superior care, seeing the comings and goings of Pet Pride with interest and pleasure, and enjoying her life to the max.
Jasmin Singer
Pet Pride, situated at 7731 Victor-Mendon Road in Victor, uses trips to the general public.
