Labeled “unadoptable” and destined for euthanasia, this trembling kitten was saved by a girl’s 10-second plea—and 12 years later, he’s still here.
“This cat’s got something wrong. He can’t even stand.”
The shelter worker didn’t hesitate—he handed the woman a euthanasia form.
But then a teenage girl stepped forward and begged, “Please give him to me. My mom will be mad… but only for ten minutes.”
It started with a casual visit. My daughter tagged along with a friend to the local shelter, just to “look at the kittens.” But what she saw would change our lives.
A woman walked in, carrying a small box. Inside was a bony, half-grown kitten. He was shaking uncontrollably, his head bobbing, his legs splaying out like a newborn deer.
She told the staff: “Something’s wrong with this cat.”
The shelter worker gently lifted him out, set him on the counter, and sighed. “He’s unadoptable. We’ll have to put him down.” She passed over the paperwork.
My daughter, barely a teen, couldn’t watch.
“Please,” she said softly, “give him to me. My mom will be mad, but just for a little while.”
The woman looked hesitant, but eventually handed over the box. And just like that, Ludicrous came home with us.
It turned out he had cerebellar hypoplasia, a neurological condition that affects coordination. He wobbled, stumbled, fell—but he tried. Every day, he got up again.
With time, Ludicrous learned to navigate our home. Sure, he still had his moments—random tumbles, dramatic flops—but his spirit never wavered. He’d chase shadows, bat at strings, and run like a baby deer on hardwood floors.
He also turned out to be the sweetest cuddlebug I’ve ever met. He’d crawl into my arms, bury his head in my neck, and purr like I was his whole world. He loved sunbeams, tuna, and rolling around on the rug like a goofball.
I’d never planned on getting another pet. Especially not one with special needs.
But that 10-minute decision? It became one of the greatest choices we ever made.
“Full story in the first c0mment.”
They said he wouldn’t live long. They said no one would want a cat who walked like a puppet with tangled strings.
Well, they were wrong. Ludicrous is now 12 years old.
He still stumbles. Sometimes, he runs head-first into furniture or flops over mid-play. To strangers, he might look broken. But to us, he’s perfect.
He sleeps in the sun like a king. He climbs up on the bed and gently nudges my face for kisses. When I’m upset, he somehow always finds me—and stays. His presence is calm, grounding, loyal.
My daughter once risked a 10-minute lecture to save him.
She didn’t get scolded. I only cried.
Because I realized something:
You don’t need to save the whole world.
Sometimes, saving one life… is enough to change yours completely.
Ludicrous taught us patience, joy, and how to love something exactly as it is. Not because it’s perfect—but because it’s trying, and that’s enough.
He isn’t a mistake.
He’s a miracle.
And every stumble he takes is a reminder that life isn’t about walking perfectly—it’s about showing up, wobbling and all, and choosing to keep going.
