Written by Gail Holder (for PlumPets Animal Shelter)
Photography supplied by PlumPets Animal Shelter and Lucinda Fletcher
Pippa – once known as Pudding – began her life on the streets, part of a feral colony of over 30 cats cared for daily by two elderly women. When the SPCA moved to dismantle the colony, one of the women reached out to Paulette at PlumPets Animal Shelter. With compassion and courage, Paulette took in 25 of the frightened, unsocialised cats who’d only ever known the hands that fed them.
In the safety of PlumPets, the cats slowly began to trust. Then the world shut down. As the COVID-19 lockdown gripped Cape Town, fostering surged, and with kitten availability dwindling, people opened their homes to older cats. One of them was Lucinda, newly arrived for a six-month work stint.
When Paulette brought her to the shelter, Lucinda Fletcher instantly connected with the timid cat in the first cage – Pippa. It was a perfect match. Away from the shelter, Pippa began to flourish under Lucinda’s gentle care. But then came a devastating blow: Lucinda’s contract ended, and with no way for Pippa to travel immediately, she couldn’t take her with her. A heartbroken Lucinda returned to the USA while Pippa was brought back to PlumPets.
Still, neither of them gave up hope.
Driven by a dream of reunion, Paulette and Lucinda launched a desperate, years-long mission to reunite them across continents. Paulette searched tirelessly for travellers flying to the US who might take Pippa in-cabin. One potential lift after another collapsed – wrong seat bookings, airline restrictions, and expired travel documents crushed hopes again and again.
Lucinda, now in her own pet-friendly apartment in Arizona, clung to the idea that Pippa would eventually join her. Meanwhile, Pippa waited, unaware of the international effort and devotion circling her. Finally, Fiona – a Canadian volunteer at PlumPets – offered to escort Pippa home. But even that plan faltered due to a documentation hiccup. Another heart-breaking near-miss.
Then, a glimmer of hope: Fiona would return to South Africa and fly back again, this time on a pet-friendly route. This time, everything had to be perfect. Pippa was sent for a dental check-up and even had her nails done. Paulette now had to source a soft travel bag in the right size and a custom escape-proof harness. Found just in time, after searching everywhere, amongst items that had been donated to PlumPets. Her rabies titre test had been redone via Germany and her vaccinations were up to date. Paulette oversaw every detail with unwavering devotion.
The night of departure arrived. A payment glitch almost derailed the plan at the eleventh hour, with an empty airport echoing around them. But at last, Pippa boarded – carrying a bag of travel essentials and treats, her blanket, and the prayers of all who loved her.
She flew to Amsterdam, then to Canada. There, after four and a half years, Lucinda and Pippa finally reunited. Tears flowed as the little cat nestled into familiar arms once again. They spent the night together in a hotel, reconnecting quietly before flying home to Phoenix, Arizona.
Now Pippa is settled, content, and showered with gifts and love. Paulette receives regular updates on her new life – proof that no distance is too far, no obstacle too great when love refuses to give up.
This was no ordinary adoption – it was a transcontinental odyssey of heartache, hope, and unshakable belief. Sometimes, the wait is long. Sometimes, the path is uncertain.
But when the dream comes true, it is everything!
Lucinda shares...
In March 2019, I took a six-month work project in Cape Town, only for the country to go into lockdown two weeks later. Thinking I had time before my US re-entry visa expired that November, I agreed to foster a terrified little calico from PlumPets Animal Shelter. It was a crazy time as shelters were calling out for help over lockdown, as workers had to return home. I don’t recall how I found PlumPets, but it was a wonderful twist of fate that I did. I met Paulette on the 26th around 7:30 pm, they were processing the dogs out first, and then the cats. I went into the room where Pippa’s colony was being kept (I think Paulette mentioned there were 25 they managed to capture a week before lockdown). I walked around and chatted with different cats, almost settling for an all-white male, but next to his cage was “Pudding” and our eyes met. I put my hand in the cage and she offered me her tummy to cuddle... it was an instant moment of recognition; she was the one I’d take home for the month of lockdown.
I’d rented a little cottage in Tamboerskloof with the idea of being out and about in Cape Town for my six-month project; this was my test run for the big move to the US in November. I had my mountain bike and the bare essentials I’d move here with. So we went into lockdown, one terrified Pudding, who instantly became “Pippa” when I bought her home at 11:45 pm that night, placed her on top of my bed, and she sat staring at me with her big owl eyes. She didn’t want to come out of the carrier, so I left her and went for a shower. She found her way under a big wooden cupboard in the room, and that’s where she set up camp for the first week. I’d lie flat on my stomach, and she’d offer me her tummy to cuddle.
What was meant to be a one-month foster turned into six (un)forgettable months. We bonded daily, and she became braver, eventually sleeping next to my head at night, lying over my computer on the twice-daily Zoom team calls. When I was in the kitchen, she’d stand tall against the cupboard, knowing I had a little treat for her. We’d play a game with ham strips that she’d flick as if she were killing it all herself to devour. Winter was freezing in the cottage; I’d make dinner on a tray and put a movie on my laptop, and together we’d snuggle.
Pippa Pudding is an absolute talker; she almost gurgles with joy when you engage with her. (Currently, she’s sitting to the right of me as I’m typing – it’s as if no time passed between when I left and her being with me now.) When I did my washing, she’d stand up on the little portable washing line and climb on the strings, chattering away – it’s as if she loves to be involved in chores. At this point, she wouldn’t engage with visitors, terrified of everyone, and would hide under the bed until they left.
I bought her a harness to get her started with outdoor walks. It was a slow process, and we gained some ground. Then, there was a defining moment that changed everything... A friend visited for coffee before we set out on a morning bike ride. We were sitting outside when she suddenly realised she’d forgotten to close the garage door. She jumped up and, without thinking, she charged into my cottage to grab her keys.
One terrified Pippa fled out the door, which she left open, and I didn’t realise until the dust had settled that she wasn’t under the bed or in the cottage anymore. And so the neighbourhood hunt, with Paulette on the end of the phone, began. I was hysterical, because the property had a storm water drain running along the front of it. I couldn’t stop crying, and it must have been a real sight as I walked the neighbourhood. Strangers came out helping to look for her, we swapped phone numbers, and kept in touch through the day. I went further up to the Oranjezicht farm, where the community came out searching and calling. Night fell, and still no Pippa. I went to sit outside with a blanket and kept calling her. I phoned my daughter in the US to fill her in and told her, “If Pippa comes back, then it’s a sign that we’re meant to be together.”... and THERE, AT MY FEET, meowed Miss Pippa Pudding as if to say, “I’ll hold you to that Mamma Lu... I’m yours and you’re mine!”
As my deadline loomed, I had to get to the US, but Pippa couldn’t come as she didn’t have the necessary titre test certification, and my final two months in SA were chaotic, driving back to Jozi (on eerily desolate roads) to close my life down before leaving. Saying goodbye was heartbreaking, but Paulette and I made a promise: if she wasn’t adopted, she’d find a way to get Pippa Pudding to me.
Fast forward a few years – adoption never happened, and multiple travel attempts fell through. Then this March, I got the message from Paulette: “She’s booked. April 14. Montreal.” Utter disbelief, we’d been down this road twice before, and the last attempt had been so close with Fiona booking her on her flight to LA. This is where angel workers just stepped in, people I’d never met who Paulette knew, offering to help. I cannot write this story without sharing my love and admiration for Paulette, who’s an angel walking this earth (albeit a little uncomfortably at the moment with her foot surgery). I wish I could wave magic wands and buy her and Duncan a new home, and find ways to lighten their load as they work tirelessly helping animals. She’s been such an inspiration to me, and I’ve shared so much of her insights with my daughter, who’s been involved with fostering and catching, neutering and releasing cats in Seattle.
So when I got the message from Paulette that Pippa Pudding was flying in with Fiona, I booked my flight, packed a kitty travel bag, and flew to Montréal-Pierre Elliott Trudeau International Airport to collect my baby girl!
That everything aligned perfectly and went down smoothly feels like a miracle. Pippa’s plane and mine arrived in Montreal four minutes apart (it couldn’t have been more perfect). It’s been an epic journey and a beautiful story that’s brought precious people into my life across continents. It’s taught me patience, perseverance, and Faith. That holding on to a dream or promise sets a course of action in motion, and that people care deeply! Countless people and organisations work tirelessly rescuing and saving animals, but I found PlumPets and Pudding, Paulette, Duncan, Hayley, and Fiona, who feel like angels on Earth.
I arrived home with Pippa Pudding on the 16th of April, and she’s settled right in. Morning and evening brushes (in fact, anytime brushes) to kick-start deep rumble purrs. Toys and scratching posts all over the show, many gifts from friends. There have also been a couple of firsts she’s had to overcome. The first was the sliding mirror doors in my bedroom, which caused her huge stress, as there was “another animal” in the room. One morning, I woke up to a full-on brawl with her and her doppelganger – it was quite something. Now she loves her “other” self and will play with the “other” cat, jumping on my bed and flicking her tail happily at the kitty staring back at her. The second was the ceiling fan. I put the fan on for the first time last week and was sitting in the lounge watching her, staring up at the mirror, not sure what this big rotating thing was.
Pippa Pudding’s re-entry into my life is a huge blessing. It’s been a tough journey moving to the USA, finding work, and setting up a home on my own. My friends and kids asked why I didn’t foster here, and it’s because I always believed she’d come to me. I am blessed, we are blessed, and my life feels complete with Pipps back in our home.
