In August, the mysterious cat distribution service decided it was time to expand our household, presenting us with a small, gray tabby adorned with bobcat-like ear tufts and a pitiful meow. I found him not once, but twice, at the bottom of a dumpster.

Yes, you read that right.

It was zero dark thirty when I arrived at the gym and thought I heard the faint cry of a kitten. After my workout, the sound came again, clearer this time. I peered into the depths of the dumpster, and a tiny fluff of fur looked back, mewing weakly. Leaving him there was unthinkable; he’d never escape on his own. So, I climbed in and scooped him up.

And then, all hell broke loose. The terrified creature morphed into a hissing, spitting fury, clawing and biting until I had no choice but to release him. Off he bolted into the brush, leaving me with battle scars and the need for a tetanus shot—and maybe a handful of karma points.

A week later, fate intervened again.

This time, the little terror was so spent he couldn’t muster a sound. Once more, I climbed into the dumpster and rescued him. But this time, I didn’t let him go. I took him home, intending to foster him until a suitable home could be found.

And that’s when I discovered he had ringworm.

Naturally, we named him Ringo.

Some might say the first mistake of fostering is naming the animal. But he had me from the moment he sank his teeth into my thumb. The instant he settled in, fed, watered, and bathed; he transformed. Gone was the feral menace; in his place was a purring love bug with an engine-like purr and a bottomless appetite.

Ringo, affectionately nicknamed “Dumpster Boy,” would eat anything. Dog food? Sure. Pizza? Why not. A peanut butter sandwich still in your hand? He’d gladly take a nibble.

Today, Ringo is neutered, ringworm-free, and thoroughly part of the family.

So, here’s my heartfelt plea: spay and neuter your pets. For every story like Ringo’s, countless others end in tragedy. Support your local shelters and rescue groups; they need donations, volunteers, and resources. And most importantly, remember that kindness is free. When you see a creature or person in need, I hope you’ll find it in your heart to help.

After all, you never know when a second chance might lead to an unexpected, furry friend.

Kim Van Meter is a former full-time reporter for The Oakdale Leader, The Escalon Times and The Riverbank News; she continues to provide a monthly column. She can be reached at kvanmeter@oakdaleleader.com.