The first couple of days in her new home was tough for Penny. After 19 hours of hiding in the back of her crate, she finally peeked her head out of her crate’s open door. I reached out to pet her head and she jumped back into her crate, but not before my hand brushed across her soft, copper-colored ear. I knew she was feral, abused and traumatized before she found me, but I felt an instant connection with her and felt so lucky that we had found each other. “Maya” never seemed to fit her and she never responded when I called her that name either. I knew at that moment her name was supposed to be Lucky Penny. The first time I called her Penny, she turned right around and looked at me, so I know that name was meant for her.
