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| Name: |
Moochie
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Age: |
Nine years old
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| Gender: |
Male
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Kind: |
Domestic Short Hair
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| Home: |
New York City, New York, USA |
"Check
out the little guy at the end," I told my husband. We were at
the Monmouth County SPCA, Thanksgiving weekend, 1997. Moochie (as we
came to know him) was the last one sitting on a long line of beautiful
cats, waiting to be adopted. But at seven months old, with his big
eyes and ears, he made me feel strongly that he was the one. And when my
husband held Moochie, and this cat put his paw lovingly on my husband's
face, the deal was clinched. Moochie had us at "Meow."
I and my husband have lived with many cats, and we have loved them all.
But I don't think we have ever known a gentler soul in a feline body. In
all the years we've lived with him, Moochie has never expressed himself
by hissing or snarling. He quietly submits to having his claws clipped,
or being herded into his travel box, and is an uncomplaining traveler.
He is friendly to everyone, human or animal, that crosses his path,
although he is also very shy.
Moochie would rather play with a twist tie than store-bought toys.
Peanut butter is his ambrosia, snuggling in our bedclothes is his
heavenly retreat. Although he loves both his Mom and Dad, my husband
concedes that Moochie's Mom is the center of this cat's universe.
Moochie came into our home and made it complete. He may have started
out life in a shelter, but when we adopted him, we wound up being the
lucky ones.
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