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Last year I lost my best friend to an untimely death. His name was Sho-gun. I was devastated. I found my way to Pet Finder and started to look at adult, male, Siamese cats. I knew that couldn’t replace my friend, but maybe I soften my pain by offering a home to another Siamese boy.
Shanghai was available for adoption...
There he was. He was 18 months old and had been named Shanghai by his foster mom who had rescued him from an animal shelter. She called him Shanghai because he had literally been kidnapped and was witnessed to have been thrown out of a moving car in the parking lot of the Humane Shelter. I took one look at his picture and knew that he was my family. Plain and simple; there was no doubt. It took almost a month to work out all the details. I live in Atlanta and Shanghai was in St. Augustine Florida.
Finally it worked out that a friend and his son were going to be in St. Augustine over the 4th of July and were available to drive him all the way to Atlanta. They let him out of his crate and he rode the whole way, in style, in the lap of a loving child. When he got here, my friend showed me his papers. The Humane Shelter had labeled him “extremely unsocial, not friendly”. Considering the fact the cat had been in the kid’s lap for at least a couple of hours before they read his records, there was reason to doubt that assessment.
Shanghai, now known as Mao, loves to lie in front of the window with his friend, Darby.
I re-named Shanghai Mao. Mao and I have lived together for over a year now and he is just starting to open up to me and his younger siblings. (I adopted two more male Siamese in the following months. Yes, I went a bit goofy.)I don’t know what Mao’s prior life was like as a kitten, but I suspect it was confined in a small space and isolated. I now let him go outside for a few hours on nice days while I am home. Outside he is happy. Freedom. He loves it when my Golden Retriever and visitors join him in the garden. He will head bump all legs, purr, make bread and show his belly; all the while talking like mad.
Mao comes when I call, even when he would prefer to stay outside and watch the birds. He knows that he is free to come or go at his will, so he has chosen to stay. His choice. He trusts; he is home.
Susann Bouchillon
Sucker, and proud of it!
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