The first time we interacted, he was chasing a magenta catnip mouse around the Shy Room.  Intrigued by his playful nature, I sat on the floor and batted the mouse around with him.  He skidded wildly across the floor to catch it and returned with the mouse dangling from his mouth.  Then he plopped down beside me (at a relatively safe distance) to catch his breath.  I winked at him, and he responded with a friendly murmur that stole my heart.

 

He's been home with me for a couple of months now, and already I can't imagine life without him.  His resilience and feistiness never cease to inspire me.  He's a happy cat, and I have no doubt he'd be a happy cat no matter where he was.  Even though he was clearly mistreated at some point, he doesn't let fear stop him from enjoying life.

 

He adores my other two spoiled rotten cats and continues to show his affection no matter how many times they growl at him with disdain.  He's no lap cat, and he still shies away from most of my attempts to pet him.  But he's never been afraid to play.  It seems that no matter what new situation he finds himself in, he's determined to have fun and be himself.  Most of us humans would be a lot better off if we followed his example.

 

His quirky personality fits perfectly into my life, and he puts a smile on my face every day.  His bald spots have been replaced with silky, shiny orange fur, and he's put some weight since he's been here.  But he still has those giant ears, strange eyes and Oriental traits that made him so special from the start.  When he's not playing with the other cats, he wanders around the house making uncanny sounds that bear an amazing resemblance to English.  Most of my friends think I'm crazy, but those who've heard him say "Hello" can't deny that I've found a very special cat.