My daughter, Aynsley, a few years ago moved to her first apartment in the city of Keene NH. She enjoys small town life, while also being close to her parents. We live only a few miles away, but out in the countryside on several acres.
One night I got a midnight phone call. “Mom, I have the world’s cutest kitten! She’s in my bathroom, and I can’t keep her! Please take this kitty.” Aynsley is not allowed to have a cat or dog in her apartment. I sighed and said “Look, you need to take the cat to the Humane Society.”
She then told me the sad story. The kitten was sitting in the middle of the street, crying. It was raining, and the kitten was getting wet. The mother cat, kept trying to pick the kitten up, but the kitten kept crawling away from the mother cat. Aynsley said it seemed as if the kitten just wanted to die. Aynsley picked up the cat, and and noticed it was very listless thin. The mother cat followed Aynsley onto the porch of her apartment house and cried for Aynsley to put her baby down. (Don’t feel badly for mother cat, the next day she greeted my daughter and asked for pets. She didn’t miss her baby for very long).
Aynsley said she felt so horrible, but knew this kitten needed more help than its mother could give. The kitten was full of fleas, so she called a friend to go to Wal Mart and buy flea shampoo, cat food and a small litter box. The kitten was so full of fleas that Aynsley’s bathtub was soon awash in hundreds of drowning fleas. Aynsley got the kitten to take a few bites of cat food, and then spent the rest of the night sleeping by the kitten’s side.
The next morning, my daughter called again to beg me to keep “the world’s cutest kitten”. I wasn’t being fooled. My other daughter Evelyn had once told me she had found a kitten at her school, that looked “exactly like Toni!” Toni was my beloved cat that had just died. The cat arrived and looked nothing like Toni, other than coloring. The non-Toni look alike, named Theodate, ended up being wonderful pet. I was just leary of descriptions of cats given by my children.
I put my foot down, this kitten was going to need a lot of care. This kitten was going to be expensive to get well. Our humane society is a no kill shelter. My husband and I had a lot of trips planned, we really didn’t need another cat right now. I offered to drive her and the cat to the humane society.
My daughter said “Can you please drive the kitten to the Humane Society?” I agreed, and my daughter knew at that moment she had won. As soon as I walked into her bathroom, I saw she had not exageratted. It was indeed the worlds cutest kitten.
The trip to the Humane Society turned into a trip to our family vet. I decided to name the kitten “Lulu”, as she seemed like a pretty bit of French fluff. The kitten was so cute, that the receptionist at the vets pulled her out of her carrier and wouldn’t put her down. The vet was also enchanted. He gave her a better flea treatment, her first shots, and then said he needed to draw some blood for testing. He took her out of the room and then my daughter and I heard “ARROURRRRRRGGGRRRRR!”. “Lulu” wasn’t such a bit of fluff. She was, at heart, a street cat. The sound eminating from the back room at the vets convinced me to rapidly rename her “Moxie”.
Moxie is still as cute as ever. She never grew into a big cat, today she only
weighs 6 pounds. She is also very smart. My husband, never a cat lover, was not thrilled at the large vet bill. He is a softie though, and said “well I know you always love having cats around.”. Moxie though, decided she was going to be not my cat, but his cat. Whenever he comes in the door, she runs to greet him. Every morning she joins him in his home office, insisting on sitting in his lap while he is on conference calls. He is the only one that she will allow to hold her for as long as he wants. The rest of the family is only allowed a few moments before she has “had enough”. As a result, my husband while not a cat fan, is a fan of Moxie. He refers to her as his “young girlfriend” (or the running joke of “I guess at sometimes I must have wished for some young pussy, because that’s what I got”) The rest of the family is tolerated, but my husband is worshiped.
(Moxie jumps on to the top of the bathroom door)
Her personality is such that she keeps us laughing, and even the dog adores his “sister” Moxie. She enjoyed being up HIGH. She jumps on top of the refridgerater and peers down at everyone. One day she decided to jump on top of the door to the bathroom. She does this now at least once a day, much to our puzzled delight. Every home should have a Moxie, or at least a stray cat that needs to get off the streets and into your heart.
- Ray Bradbury, and the dyslexic daughter (twodifferentgirls.com)