Mango
When I was a kid, I was afraid of cats. That changed many years later when my daughter, who was out on the street training her dog to heel, heard a little meow behind her and found a small tabby kitten who was obviously lost. We brought him inside and gave him some milk, and the next day I took him to work with me, hoping that someone would take him home. But by the end of the day I'd fallen in love and he came home with me. We named him Ringo and he was the first in a long line of wonderful cats who shared our home.
My beloved Toby, a tuxedo cat who comforted me through my husband's illness and my widowhood, died last year, I said I didn't want to think about another cat. After a Sunday brunch for my birthday my daughter remarked that she'd like to go and visit an dog adoption place whose director she knew. Right next door was...surprise...a cat adoption place. She suggested I go in and look around and that's how I met Mango, the newest love of my life. (He had me at "meow.")
As you can see, he's an orange cat, hence the name he came with, and he likes to roll over on his back, put up his paws and meow. That's how he lets he know he's hungry. Like most orange cats, he's very friendly. He's pretty cuddly, too. He'll lie in the crook of my arm purring and reach a paw up to touch my face. So sweet.
So once again I have a cat in my life to keep me company, make me laugh and seemingly on his own, support the company that makes Fancy Feast cat food.
Take care, and stop back next week for #5.
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