It all started when I agreed to a private adoption for a grey tabby. His owner was prompt, friendly & described him in great ways. Until I got to meet him and found that he was NOT socialized to be with other animals! She hadn’t been honest with me! Despite my best efforts, I knew, sadly, that I could not give him the home with the my resident cat I’d hoped. I took him to HSHV for a sad surrender (where he eventually spent a few weeks in behavioral & was happily adopted thereafter!). Nevertheless, in search of dopamine & endorphins, the same day of the surrender, I walked into the kitten room. Mentally licking my wounds, I was shocked when “Buzz” put a tiny, tiny paw on my forearm. Looking at him quizzically, he quickly approached the bars of his little cage. I asked to see him. Still shocked, as I hadn’t planned to adopt anyone, we gazed into each other’s eyes. Doubting myself still, he suddenly jumped on the back of my neck. I assumed he had gotten stuck in my hoodie. But no– the other visitors in the kitten room told me that Buzz was HOLDING ON TO ME and not letting go, despite his brothers & sisters in the same cage with him! That sealed the deal. I took him home. I tried to call him Inkspot for his beautiful voidy color, but that was not to be. Inky became POOKY. Why? Because Pooky is the family love bug. Sitting, reading? Pooky quickly approaches, ready to offer his nose on my eyelid. Cuddling? Let me sniff and lick your ear. As his vet doctor said, he knows no personal space, & I wouldn’t have it any other way. PS His big brother adores him, and he adores his big brother Rex (the Target cat)!

Buzz now Pooky