Her Name is Molly

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By Karen Harrison Binette

Her Name is Molly and here is her #RecipeForMoments Story

MoreMollyHer name is Molly. She’s a furry little – wait, she’s not little; she’s borderline gigantic, for a cat. We think she’s part Maine Coon.

We adopted her about two years ago when we saw a note on Facebook from a local woman who was in tears at having to give her up. “Please don’t make me take her to a shelter,” she wrote. “I know what happens to adult cats in shelters. They live there forever…or, worse.”

“We can do it,” I said to Tom. We lost our beloved kitty a few months earlier and to be honest, we were not in the market for another sweet meow. We were still grieving. But this girl needed us…because we, too, know what happens to cats in shelters. They languish there…or worse. And, it wasn’t this Mom’s fault that not only was she allergic to Molly, one of her dogs was, also!

I did ask, via Facebook, if Molly would tolerate our dogs – we have 3 rescues; a fat-roly-poly Boston Terrier, and two hound dogs. They are all pretty laid back creatures and were a bit curious about our previous girl, so we were certain they would accept Molly without worry. But would she take to them?

“Oh, I have two big dogs,” her Mom said. “She likes dogs.” Done deal. Now we’re a family of six.

That’s right. We’re a family. Molly rounds us out nicely. I love my fur-kids with a passion you only give to the most important things in your life. You understand, right?

For a while, Molly was shy of everyone. She lived in the basement, with Tom… who has his office down there. In time, she began to come upstairs to the ground floor to sniff the rugs, glare at the dogs, drink from the water dish, watch the birds and squirrels out the window, and meow her approval of things. Of late, she’s indicated with bright eyes and soft meows that she would like to play, thank you. Oh yes, she loves all the attention she gets during the day (she tolerates Tom on ‘her’ desk… and she tries to sleep in the dogs’ beds so they can’t, which is quite amusing, I think), but she is still young enough to love play. It’s fun to stop working (my office is upstairs) and watch her chase things, play grab-catch with feathers, and give her cat-nip toy a working over, now and then.

This morning she decided I should play with her. I was cooking breakfast, enjoying the sunny, warm Saturday morning as it streamed through our sliding glass door. While the rest of the country freezes in the polar icicles, we are experiencing spring-like days and cold nights. Perhaps it was the sun that inspired our meow…as she lay at my feet while and gentle grabbed my ankles. Her perky look and expectant pout told me she wanted my attention.

“Here’s a ribbon,” I said, dangling it in front of her, “see if you can catch it, Molly.”

She was definitely up for that! I dragged it across the floor and pulled it up and she chased it and grabbed it and delighted in the fun, no doubt. She made me laugh out loud so we continued for a few minutes, around the center island, into the hall…we have hardwood floors so she slid around a bit, but it didn’t bother her! This was fun (which I agree!) and when I lost my grip on the ribbon, she took full charge and began tossing it around on her own.

“Molly, you’re crazy!” I called after her.

She glanced back at me, as if to say, “Don’t disturb me, it might get away!” and off she went after the errant ribbon.

This, of course, raised the interest of our biggest hound dog, Chester. Chester is ever certain that the other pets get more treats than he does. There is no basis for this, mind you, but he makes it his job to check things out, if there is any possibility of a treat involved. And, since he was not sure what this ‘toy’ Molly was playing with was, he needed to lumber over and check on its edible nature.

End of play.

Molly tolerates the dogs, even gives them a good sniff now and then, but she is not yet comfortable having them invade her territory. She abandoned the ribbon and moved off to parts unknown.

Chester, for his trouble, discovered the ribbon was not edible. He gave the empty space that previously held Molly a long stare…as if sure she would come back and bring another ‘treat’ …then moved off to his big, cushy dog bed in front of the fireplace. Yes, he heaved a big, disappointed sigh.

Molly? She snuck back later on, but the game was over. She went to the rug by the sliding glass doors and reclined there, in the sun, watching the birds.

And us? We ate breakfast.

“I hope she comes up to play tomorrow,” I said to Tom.

He just smiled. Molly is her own girl. She will do as she pleases. In our house… she is “the one cat to rule them all.”


Guest post by Yvonne DiVita, co-found of BlogPaws and writer for www.ScratchingAndSniffings.com.

This post is sponsored by Nature’s Recipe®. Find out more about how to win a Nature’s Recipe collar camera for your cat here.

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