August 
          26th was my birthday, and my sister surprised me by telling me that I 
          was going to adopt a cat, and that she was going to pay the fee as my 
          present.  Could there possibly be a better birthday present than Love? 
          
          
          We 
          went to the shelter and I looked at all the beautiful cats.  I 
          went to each cage in turn, bent down and asked, "Are you my cat?  
          Do you want to be my cat?"  Some of them purred, some of them 
          hid, and most of them just sat there.  A skinny little grey one 
          with cute little white paws came over to the bars, reached through 
          them with her arm and patted me on the face, no claws.  I 
          could tell she wanted to be my cat.  I took her out of the cage 
          and held her.  She was so light, it was like holding nothing.  
          I wanted to take her home and give her a good meal.  Then she 
          turned, looked me right in the eye, and growled at me, letting me know 
          she wanted to be put down now.  I could see she wasn't afraid 
          of me, and had her own personality.  So I put her back for the 
          time being.  
          
          We 
          asked about her background, and found out her name was Mimi, and she 
          had been picked up as a stray in Valleyfield.  Little else was 
          known.  I told the staff that Mimi was the name of my niece, and 
          my sister explained that it was Mimi (the person) who had insisted 
          that her mother give me a cat for my birthday.  In fact, she 
          had compiled a Top Ten List (from the home office!) of reasons why 
          Uncle Fred Needs a Cat.  Apparently, #1 was "he talks to 
          groundhogs".  So I go to the shelter on my birthday, and the cat 
          I like happens to be named Mimi.  The staff said "little miracles 
          like that happen all the time".  
          
          I took 
          Mimi home and opened the carrier - and she started running.  Up 
          and down the hall, like a straightaway.  Then up and down the 
          stairs.  Then up and down the upstairs hall.  Then back 
          downstairs and up and down the main hall again.  Run, run, run, 
          run, run!  I had commented at the shelter that she
          has the body plan of a cheetah, but I wasn't expecting a track meet.  
          She's hardly stopped since.  I feel so sad, thinking of this 
          adorable little cat, young, healthy and full of energy, who only wants 
          to run, and who had to live God knows how many months in a 2-by-3 foot 
          cage.  I'm so glad I took her home.  This cat has 2 speeds:  
          fast asleep and full speed ahead.  When she isn't running, she 
          sleeps like an angel.  Then suddenly, she's awake and tearing 
          around the house again.  She doesn't know where she's going, but she 
          wants to get there NOW!
          
          The 
          1st night, I don't know where she slept.  The 2nd night, she 
          crept into my room and curled up at the far end.  When I didn't 
          throw her out, she came back the next night and slept on the mat 
          beside my bed.  The 4th night, she was bold enough to climb into 
          bed with me and sleep beside me.  The 5th night, I came into my 
          room and found her already in bed.  When I tried to get into bed 
          too, she growled at me.  We've now agreed to share, and she's 
          slept with me every night since.  I thought I was getting a cat.  
          I never counted on a friend and a roommate.
          
          If 
          there's one thing she doesn't like, it's a closed door between her and 
          me.  She cries pitifully if she sees that I'm in the garage, or 
          the basement, or just in the next room with the door closed.  I 
          have to come over and open it a crack.  She doesn't necessarily 
          come in, she just wants to know that she can  reach me if she wants 
          to.  When it's bath time, she insists on supervising.  
          She cries till I let her in the bathroom, then she sits on the edge of 
          the tub, not watching me, but watching the door.  I think she 
          thinks I'm the world's biggest kitten, and she's guarding me as I 
          splash around in the waterhole, in case a  predator comes out of the 
          jungle.
          
          I pick 
          her up 3 or 4 times a day, hug her, and tell her how much I love her.  
          I wish she could understand.  I don't think I've ever loved 
          anything as much as I love that little grey mongrel I took home from 
          the pound.  She's the best birthday present ever.
          
          Sincerely,
          
          Fred 
          W.
          Mimi's Roommate
           
          Back to Happy Tails page