The Story of Momo

Let's start with a few stipulations: I am not a crackpot. I am quirky, maybe. And a little bit stiff sometimes. And not unlike lobster, I am an acquired taste. But I am not a crackpot.

Okay then.

How many times did I hear it? With every belly rub I'd give Neko, with every cold cut slice I'd bring C fresh from the deli, Tom would laugh, and say, "If I ever come back, Linda, I want to be one of your cats." Cats live a pretty high life in the Gentile household.

So, I don't know if you all remember the time frame, but Tom died on February 7, 2010. C had been sick for months at that point, and he died some 3 months later, on May 13. It was a Thursday. Imagine my surprise, then, when a friend posted on Facebook that Saturday that, because of allergies, a friend of his was going to have to return her kitten to the shelter if she couldn't find a new home for her. A little white female kitten with smudges of grey on the top of her head and her rump. Her name was Momo, "little peach." She'd come complete with food, carrier, and was up-to-date with her shots and papers. The timing was entirely too serendipitous to resist. While I was ready to be a family of two boys, three cats and no dogs (yet), maybe my blog had other plans for me. We took Momo and remained a family of  22 legs, including mine.

Some time later (okay, months later. Filing is not my forte, okay?) I was filing away her paperwork, and I glanced over the shots ... the physical attributes ... and my eyes fell on her dob: February 8, 2010. "If I ever come back, Linda, I want to be one of your cats."

This incarnation likes sports more than the previous one ...

... but they both love their naps.