At only six months old, Betty the Basset Hound mix’s life is just beginning. Unfortunately, one crucial person in Betty’s formerly happy human family has a life that’s ending. Someone who mattered to Betty, and her future, is terminally ill.

In a pup’s unconditionally loving, self-sacrificing way, Betty would have stayed to comfort the person. She would have skipped her playful puppy phase and been quietly supportive. But the people who wanted the best for Betty knew that she needed to move into her new life.

Betty’s endearing, wrinkled Basset forehead shows that she’s puzzled. Yet, Betty loves and appreciates everyone, humans of all ages, other dogs and even cats, so she’ll adjust. Still, young Betty needs someone to help her mend a broken heart.

Big John is so agreeable to people’s requests that he must have been held and handled, carried and cuddled as a puppy. Someone taught him manners. And, to please his people, Big John learned. He must have believed that those people would reward him with love, food and shelter.

But Big John made one lethal mistake. He grew. When strangers noticed the 100-pound, one-year-old Cane Corso mix, he was scavenging through discarded Taco Bell bags and other trash, desperate to ease his hunger pains. Big John’s people had stopped giving him either love or food.

The shelter staff says that the now-neutered boy, “Has never been anything but sweet.” They hope, “He will never have to worry where or how he’ll get his next meal.”

A rogue is someone who behaves in unacceptable ways. So, the little, tortoiseshell cat named Rogue is carrying a name that should have gone to her owners. Those people moved from their apartment. They left behind trash and a pretty, affectionate, completely dependent, one-year-old cat called Rogue. They left her although it’s winter.

Somehow, the gold-splashed cat survived. Rogue, however, must have spent most of her nine lives. She’s very thin and, at first, in the shelter, was uneasy. Rogue must have been afraid to trust that she was finally safe, that she could finally rest, without fears of some roving beast attacking or freezing to death.

Sweet Rogue doesn’t have any extra lives left. She deserves to be protected and cherished from now on.

The people saw the luxuriously furred, neutered cat, now named Andre, outside the motel. They didn’t know if he’d once upon a better time been a guest inside, with people he adored. All they definitely knew was that Andre loved people but was completely alone. Soon they noticed that the fluffy pet was in trouble.

Andre could use only three of his legs. They concluded that the other leg was broken and scooped up the gentle, hurting cat and took Andre to the shelter.

It turned out that Andre had a horrible abscess, probably from a bite from a cat who was more street smart that the cuddly house cat. Andre could have died. He has a chance to live, if someone takes him home.

Jimbo’s expression shows precisely how the handsome, orange, neutered tabby feels about being in the shelter. Jimbo always came and went as he pleased. He thought that he had his life arranged perfectly, but cats have very little real control. Luckily for cats who are regal, full of self-confidence and proud, like Jimbo, they don’t know that.

Jimbo’s people changed his life. Jimbo can’t understand what will happen next, but he knows that enforced confinement hurts his heart and soul. Jimbo wants to approach people, accept food and affection when the time feels right.

This impressive fellow, one who remembers that his ancestors were top predators, needs to live in a place where he has some freedom, a place like an often-visited barn or shop.