Hard to believe that Mocha has been with us for two years already.
When I lost my Smudge kitty in 2009, I knew I had to open my heart again to another new friend, and Mocha needed us.
When I stopped by the adoption center two weeks before we lost Smudge, I was only visiting, just picking up some more nutrional supplement to keep my baby alive for as long as I could.
My eye was caught by some fur that looked like Smudge's Tortoiseshell markings, only two shades lighter.
Mocha was trying to hide her whole chubby self behind a strip of information that stated she was a Silver Tortie, didn't tolerate other cats, didn't appreciate being in the cage, and did not like fingers poked at her.
I spoke quietly to her, and one green eye peeked out at me.
I explained that she couldn't come home with me, I had to take care of my Smudge and I hoped she would find a good home soon.
The eye retreated and I went on my way.
When I had to finally release my grip on Smudge's fragile life though I held her tight until the end, I remembered that lonely green eye and gathered myself together to go and see if she had been adopted yet.
Just visiting, I told myself,
just soothing my grief with the presence of other cats, that's all.
The rest of Mocha's story is like puzzle pieces that fell into place because everybody was in the right places at the right times.
The volunteer who had a special interest in Mocha and shouldn't have been there at that time but for bringing some medicine to another cat, who saw my application in the Adoption box and was able to talk to me directly,
who explained that Mocha had been in their care for six months, been adopted and returned due to her intolerance of other cats, and was getting desperate to belong somewhere.
After a few weeks of being interviewed and investigated by the head of the organization, (Bless you, Linda, for your thoroughness. This cat didn't need any more "halfway commitments") Mocha came home with us, bringing her sticky pink bed that I would love to throw in the wash but she can't be without it that long, and her toy mouse.
She is amazingly open and trusting despite what she's been through,
loves us fiercely and carries on regular conversations with our twenty one year old conure Rory.
We're still trying to figure out why all "treasures" that she finds, including that toy mouse, and the occasional rubber bands which we swear we keep locked up, end up in her dry food dish...
Mocha says that some things she does must remain a mystery, and we have to live with it, which we do happily.
Anyway, if there is a cat shaped hole in your life, look into a shelter cat.
They all have stories to tell, and if you're in our area, consider the Animal Care Associates, who go above and beyond in their care and devotion.
