In honor of June being as “Cat Adoption Month,” I am going to tell you a story about my now deceased cat Mrs. T (God rest her soul). In 1989 I had just moved to Dallas after a three year stint in LA. I was living alone for the first time in my adult life and felt the need for a furry companion. I adopted Mrs. T from a shelter in North Dallas. She was already an older cat; around 6 years old I believe, and not the prettiest cat in town. Mrs. T was a small brown tabby with a canine tooth missing which caused her to look like she was snarling. For that reason her previous owners had named her Mrs. T after the popular show staring tough guy Mr. T. But Mrs. T was never mean, she had the tender heart of … well, a pussycat.

Mrs. T and I had six great years together living in Dallas. Being single at the time, it was a comfort to know there was at least one creature on this earth that counted on me for shelter, food, water and companionship. A year after I adopted Mrs. T, I rescued a dog to join our little family. Randy and Mrs. T were not the best of friends, but managed to tolerate one another when allowed the privilege of sleeping on the bed.

In 1994 while on vacation in the Lake District in England I met Alan, my future husband. Within 6 months we were married and I was making plans to relocate to England. Because the UK is rabies free there are strict laws requiring any pets brought over from other countries to be quarantined for six months. Because of the expense as well as the trauma this can cause a cat, I made the difficult decision to take Mrs. T to a no-kill shelter in Dallas called Operation Kindness. I gave them a nice monetary donation along with my cat and prayed that she would land in a happy home. My dog Randy went with me to England and survived quarantine like a champ.

Fast forward to 1998. My husband and I moved back to the USA and were renting a duplex in Weatherford while we built our house in Willow Park. On an early morning walk we came across a tiny kitten that followed us the whole way. We ended up taking the kitten to Operation Kindness and while we were there took a look in the cat room. As soon as we walked in I saw her. “That looks just like my old cat Mrs. T,” I said to a staff member sitting right next to her. “This is Mrs. T,” he replied. That darn cat had been in the shelter the whole time! Well, of course we had to adopt her and she lived out the rest of her days in Parker County. Mrs. T died at age 21. She was a good cat.

A few weeks ago I adopted an adult male cat from the Weatherford/Parker County Animal Shelter. He is big and beautiful with a blend of white and orange fur with crystal clear blue eyes. Alan named him Top Cat, but sometimes in honor of my old cat now gone, I like to call him Mr. T. It makes me smile.