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I'm not sure what made me go to the animal shelter that day an hour before closing, but something was calling my name. 

I went into the cat room and browsed around and then went to the dog area. Nothing was jumping out at me. I headed back to the cat room when a friend was then working behind the counter. I told her I didn't feel a connection with anything I had seen.

She then reached into the cage behind the counter and handed me a tripod kitten about 8 weeks old, the last of the litter. Six people looked, but no one wanted him. After a short visit in the bonding room, I was in love.

I brought him home and named him Ernesto, which means determined in Spanish.

A couple of months later, we discovered he was in a lot of pain, not moving and would cry at any touch. An x-ray revealed his hip had come out of the socket and was deformed. We scheduled surgery ASAP and had the ball joint removed. He would learn to use his leg without it.

So now he is not only a tripawd, but he has a gimpy back leg to boot. He has been the best kitten ever and amazes me every day. The bond I feel with him is like no other.

Something directed me to the shelter that day. I believe it was to rescue Ernie. Anyone else may not have invested the money to do the surgery. He lets nothing stand in his way (not even our 90-pound Lab) and makes me laugh at all the silly things he does. He is my little buddy and I am so thankful I found him.