We have a same old brand new cat in the house with us.
I adopted her from the shelter close to three years ago. Since I was living alone at the time, I felt the need to bring home a pet to keep me company. I remember wanting a ‘boy’ cat specifically and as I passed by many cages with three rescued cats in each, this particular furball caught my attention.
She looked funny with her half greenish moustache missing. Her right ear had also been notched. The card on the cage stated her name as Mopsy, a one-year old “sweet and loving” Yet, I still contemplated in bringing home the other marmalade cat simply because I wanted a ‘boy.’ My sister who was with me at the time advised that I pick Mopsy instead. We let her out of the cage and she immediately jumped onto my lap and kneaded awkwardly like an old, trembling masseuse.
And that was how I got a girl cat instead. Her awkward demeanor reminded me of those manic pixie dream girls like Zooey Deschanel so I changed her name to Zoë. It fit her so well like a well-tailored little black dress. I also liked the meaning of her name, which meant “life”.
Zoë soon became an important part of my life. She’d wake me up in the morning by chomping down clumps of my hair. She loved pawing off leftovers from my plate to get her share. She spent a great deal of time purring next to me on the couch whenever the TV is on. She had the pinkest tummy that I loved to scratch playfully. She’d never bite or scratch; instead, she’d give me a kiss like a dog would. Coincidentally, her voice sounded very much like Prince when he sings “Kiss.” Zoë was just a marvelous gal pal that I ever had. She made me feel special.
Then there came the time when I had to move apartments. Having a cat while having to move can be unproductive, especially when you have the type that bites onto boxes. I left Zoë with my mom while I continue with my packing. It was supposed to be temporary but by the time I was ready to move homes, my mom had grown way too fond of Zoë. My sister wanted her too. I believed it was the kiss effect. Everybody loved the cat for that. So I concurred but continued on visiting Zoë every week to play with her. When Charlie came to my life, I brought him over to my mom’s home to get acquainted with Zoë. They got along fabulously well despite their difference in size.
My grandma took care of Zoë and the house once my mom left for Borneo to work. But Zoe was one among many other cats that were sharing the same space. She grew sick after a while and lost weight so I took her back in with us. After all, she’s still my cat. She’s doing better now after treatment. Both cats tend to tear up our small apartment into pieces with their nocturnal game of hide-and-seek. But we love the chaos. Charlie seems to be happier these days to have a full-blooded feline friend to play with. And Zoë is gaining weight and making herself at home.
The four of us share the bed at night and so far, it’s been pretty cozy.
