Moriah is one of the younger cats of the household. She is the only cat that entered the house as an adult. No one at the shelter knew her story. The doctor put her age at “2 or 3.” We decided to go with 2.
She had been cared for at some point; she had already been “fixed.” But during one of the coldest winters ever, she was either thrown out or lost, and a Good Samaritan took her to the shelter.
She hid under the bench. For days. She wouldn’t come out to eat. She wouldn’t come out to meet people.
I actually got her by accident. I had gone in to leave a donation and saw a friendly dark gray boy cat, sleek and short-haired. I called back and said I wanted the “gray one.” Because of snow and road closures, I couldn’t get in for a couple of days. When I did, I filled out the paperwork for the “gray one.” We then went back to the enclosure room, and the volunteer went into the cage to the left of the one I remembered, digging underneath a bench for a kitty that was hiding.
I said, “Huh, he was so friendly when I was here before.”
She turned with a fluffy gray bundle in her hands, a long-haired light gray and peach (dilute calico) girl. She handed the girl to me, and two front paws immediately went around my neck. She was terrified, but she was saved.
I was shocked. The sleek gray one was gone, but this one… this one was beautiful. The volunteer noticed my surprise and asked if I wanted to go through with it.
Of course I did.
She was a beautiful fluffy kitty.
She is even more beautiful now. And definitely more fluffy, in every way.
Moriah Speaks
I was saved that day. I went to my new home with my new mommy, and I got this really big room all to myself. (Mom calls it the bathroom.) I hid under this rack thing that Mommy keeps hangy-down things on, so I couldn’t be seen by anyone. And I stayed there. She would put food out, and water, and she brought in a chair and a table and sat with me for hours. I still hid.
She left dry food, then wet food, then treats, then, finally, tuna. I sneaked out one night and ate the tuna. So that’s what I got for a while, then a mixture of wet food and dry food. Eventually, probably a couple of weeks after she rescued me, I would eat everything she put out for me.
I stayed in the bathroom for quite a while, until everyone knew I was safe. But every now and then, a kitty would come in to sniff. I hid. There was no way I was going to say hello to kitties.
Mommy slept in that chair for several hours every night, and one night, after eating my tuna, I climbed up on that chair and slept on her chest.
I hid less after that. But I learned it was safe to eat!!
And I learned that the human in the house – Mommy – was not only okay, but she loved me. And the kitties in the house were okay with me, too. I’m not cuddle buddies with any of them, but they know me, they let me eat, and they let me sleep, and they never bother me.
It’s okay for me to love myself. And I do.
My Message
Tiger Lily asked me to give you a positive message, because there is so much going on these days that isn’t positive. Here it is.
I have come to love my big fluffiness. Some people would call me a fluffy ball. Some roly-poly. Some would be rude and call me fat.
But no one can deny that I wear my long fluffy hair like a queen.
I love it when Mommy brushes my lion mane and chest. I don’t care for it when she tries to brush my back, or sides, or anything else. Every now and then she catches me to give me a good brush, and sometimes she brings in this woman who puts me in a harness, brushes my hair and shaves my butt.
Now THAT’S something! I like to show off my butt for weeks after that.
When I was at the shelter, it was very scary. I darn near froze to death before getting there, and I had learned that humans couldn’t be trusted.
Then I was saved by Mommy and the other kitties in the house. I found out that they love me, no matter what. And I learned to love myself.
Here is the message: Love yourself. Love your body. No matter what you are, human or kitty. That’s how you find and keep your place in the world.