I had just lost the last of my cats from a previous generation, 17 year old Max. I was hesitant about getting another cat, because I'm in my early 70's, and not meaning to be morbid, I didn't want a furry friend to outlive me. But my then 31-year old daughter decided, as usual, that she knew more about what I needed than her father did, so she started scanning PetFinder. She soon found a likely young fellow at the Massachusetts SPCA, a tuxedo, which is my favorite breed, and she put a reserve on him and called me to go pick up my new cat. He was a stray who had been picked up on the street and brought to the shelter. The shelter named him Mr. Crabby, because he didn't appear to be too enthusiastic about his temporary quarters. They drew the conclusion that he was a street cat and had never been socialized. But when I got him home and let him roam the house, it became obvious they were wrong. He obviously was very comfortable being a house cat, so Mr. Crabby became Calix, which is Greek for "very handsome". Which of course he is (and knows it).
Now three years later, he has me very well trained in keeping him happy, and he pays me in head butts, leg rubs, and other signs that our contract is a good deal for both of us. And my daughter, of course, always reminds me of who brokered the introduction.
GROTON, MA
