In 2004, I adopted a cat who was about one year old and weaning her second litter of kittens. Â Moo, named for the sound she made, was first rescued by friends Chad and Tiffany from a kill shelter. Â When I met Moo, she dropped her kittens in my lap and took a nap while I looked after them. Â Then, she came and gave me a headbutt. Â It was love at first bonk. Â Once her kittens were old enough to be adopted out, she came home with me and my partner at the time.
Moo is arguably the greatest cat in the world. Â She’s fluffy, she purrs, she talks, she knows tricks. Â I adore this cat. Â In grad school, I had a dream that I physically gave birth to her (probably a product of the stress of grad school and the comfort she provided when I got home feeling bad every day). Â Moo keeps me humble — every once in awhile, she places a hairball right where I’ll step in it. Â Moo keeps me stylish — I find tasteful accents of cat fluff on every outfit.
For those doing the math, Moo’s about 13 years old. Â She’s in excellent health; last year, she had a dental surgery to preempt future problems. Â Other than that, she has never had a major medical procedure (aside from spaying).
Sometimes, things as a pre-tenure professor get a little overwhelming. Â On the toughest of days, I know I can rely on Moo to sit on me and purr until I get out of my funk.
So, here’s to Moo!