In Memory of Franklin 1/26/2019 – 6/5/2025
When we first saw Franklin, it was through pictures, as is the case for many of our Shadow Cats. He was hunched over a can of food, and in another, sitting in a kennel with his paws tucked tightly to his body and his eyes averted. Something about his eyes evoked such sadness, like he’d lived a life that had taken more than it ever gave. His ears were dirty, and so was his fur, and his nose was dotted with scratches, or perhaps pesky mosquito bites.
Someone from Hearts of Life Animal Rescue saw Franklin, and perhaps saw those emotive eyes, and knew he deserved a chance. They even found a home for him, but it was simply not meant to be. He wound up testing positive not only for FIV, but for feline leukemia as well. Franklin ran out of options. They posted a desperate plea, hoping that someone would swoop in and save Franklin…but no one did.
That’s when they reached out to us, and thankfully, we had the space to accommodate him. In February of 2025, Franklin arrived at Shadow Cats all the way from Sulphur Springs…and his journey with us began! We, naturally, kept the name Franklin…because honestly, look at that face and tell us it didn’t suit him perfectly.
Initially, Franklin was a bit hesitant. It was clear that he wanted to be sweet with us, but just wasn’t sure if he could trust us that far. If you sat in the room with him, though, and lowered yourself to his level…Franklin’s sweetness would slowly unravel. One of our technicians, Anna, lay on the floor with him on one of his first days at the sanctuary. In an act of pure adorability, Franklin flopped down in front of her, mimicking her position and putting his head near hers.
We knew then that we were going to fall in love with Franklin, and there was simply no stopping it. He followed that ridiculously cute act with allowing belly rubs, something every hardened street cat seems to wind up doing at Shadow Cats. He also loved to rub up on your legs when you entered a room, and that’s how we first noticed his limp. Upon further inspection, there seemed to be some significant swelling on his hock. Radiographs showed complete joint disintegration in that leg, with origins that could prove fixable…or insidious.
Somehow, through further testing and preemptive treatments, the limp was mostly fixed, though some of the damage couldn’t be repaired. Still, we were hopeful. But through that line of testing, a thread had been pulled that burst at the seams. Our Franklin had kidney disease, anemia, and a heart murmur. Even further testing revealed mild HCM…which was the least of his worries, as the rest of his ultrasound revealed a very likely lymphoma. We only had Franklin in our ranks for a month or two when we discovered this.
But we know the price of love well enough, and though we know grief will come, we resolve to give them the best for whatever time they have, even if it’s short. Franklin gave us that love back in spades. We moved him into Annex, where he discovered his first love: the infamous pickle toy. We’re sure you’ve seen photos of it. We have one in every room of the sanctuary! Franklin LOVED that catnip pickle. Despite all of his health problems and everything that could set him back, Franklin chose to play and make the best of every single day he had.
He loved to spend his time out on the catio, sunbathing. He’d watch the rabbits run by, reclining on a well-loved scratcher. He continued to grow sweeter, loving lap time with volunteers, and though medication time was the bane of his existence as he reminded us of so kindly daily…he loved our staff, too.
They paid their taxes in boxes, giving him only the finest cardboard to stand and survey his kingdom in. He even got comfortable enough that when dinnertime rolled around, it wasn’t uncommon to see dear Franklin staring at you through the Annex window, scratching at it demandingly. He was just a little love, and if you gave him a scritch, he’d hold your hand in place…or even pull it closer if you dared to take it away. Whatever life he lived before Shadow Cats, whatever sadness in his eyes existed then, had melted away completely in the short months we spent with him.
Eyes that were once wary softened. An expression once serious relaxed into the warmth of comfort. We watched Franklin unfurl into sweetness every single day. We watched him settle into his goofiness, embrace his zoomies, and just live life as a cat, without the worry of what tomorrow may or may not bring. Love looked good on Franklin. It was so hard, watching him love life and knowing that he didn’t have long to live it. But we made sure every day was special, and we kept a close eye on him.
Eventually, our sweet Franklin began giving us signs that it was time. His feline leukemia had sprouted cancer within him, and the zest for life he once held was fading. We let him enjoy his final days out on the catio, bathing in the sun he loved so much. His last day was beautiful, full of love, of fun, and so many came to visit him. In such a short time, this precious boy had won the hearts of many.
He’d look up at you with those beautiful green eyes, like sprawling pastures, and convey a simple adoration that never needed words.
Peacefully, in the arms of those who loved him most, who nursed him through the final chapter of his life, Franklin left us. We know that grief is the price we pay for love, and there’s a thankfulness in the pain of loss. A gratitude towards a kindred spirit, who for a flicker of time’s flame, walked our path with us. We were so lucky to have walked beside Franklin and to have known his unique and precious brand of love.
Franklin, gently shepherded to his next chapter, stands at the precipice of eternity. Before him, a sprawling pasture as green as his eyes and peppered with sweet flowers. His legs are free of pain, his body free of cancer, free of feline leukemia, free of the heart that skipped a beat. Two familiar faces stand across the rainbow bridge to greet him. Sir Alfred and Orca, whom Franklin knew for a moment in time, wait for him. And when they guide him over the bridge, when his paws splay in the freshest grass, when he runs freely alongside them to the grove where all Shadow Cats roam…it isn’t hard to imagine a little smile lifting his features.
Thank you to his amazing sponsors, Anne T, Angie N, Mary W, and Pam L. Thank you to the volunteers who always had a lap and a brush to spare for our sweet little prince. Thank you to the dedicated, loving staff who loved him despite the time we knew would be so limited. Thank you to Vista Vet for the incredible medical care Franklin received. Thank you to all who looked at Franklin’s serious little face and wondered what he could possibly be thinking about.
We love you, Franklin. We always will.
Franklin had 4 Sponsors
Anne Tick
Angie Noelle
Mary and James Wallace
Pam Lind