NORTH SAANICH -- Ever since she was a kitten, Frankie would race home when Karen shook the bag of cat treats. "We call that kitty crack!" Karen laughs. "We shake the Temptations and she comes flying!"

The cat 'flew' consistently for seven years – until one day – Frankie didn't. Karen went searching and eventually found her pet hiding in the car, terrified.

"She kept falling over," Karen explains. "She couldn't hold herself up."

Karen rushed Frankie to the vet and was shocked by the diagnosis. "I started to cry," she recalls. "I went, 'Oh my God! Who shoots my cat?'"

Frankie had been shot by a .22 calibre firearm at close range. The cat's shoulder was shattered. The only option was amputation.

Karen contacted the police. A spokesperson called the case "extremely disturbing." While they investigated, Frankie struggled.

"In the beginning she was very gun-shy," Karen says. "Excuse the [expression]."

Karen shows me pictures of Frankie post-surgery. The cat's front-leg and shoulder have been replaced by shaved skin revealing an unsettling collection of stitches and tubes emerging from her body. Karen says she was concerned Frankie's exuberant spirit was extinguished.

"I was worried about that more than losing the leg," Karen says. "I didn't want her to be fearful."

Karen didn't want to feel that either. So, instead of being stuck in the negativity of the past, she considered the potential of a positive future.

"I started to focus on [Frankie]," Karen explains. "Instead of who did this."

So Karen – and her roommate Drew – came up with a plan to help Frankie come out of her shell. "She was too weak to actually be let go," Karen says. "[Drew] literally walked her around the property twice a day in his arms."

It worked so well that one day, Frankie made a three-legged run for it.

"I was amazed!" Karen remembers.

When the cat came back, she offered a token of her gratitude. "We were all like, 'Oh my God!' She actually caught a mouse with one leg!" Karen laughs. "I didn't think she could do it!"

Three months later, I focus the camera on Frankie leaping off couches and running around her house. The cat is thriving on the other side of fear, and her human couldn't be more inspired.

"I don't complain about anything anymore," Karen laughs. "Because if it was you or I, we'd still be in the hospital screaming for morphine. She's out there catching mice!"

And when Karen shakes that 'kitty crack', Frankie flies back home – for a treat and a cuddle. 

"I'm proud of her," Karen says. "Really proud."

Frankie licks the tip of her nose, followed by Karen giving her a big kiss. "She's amazing!"