My Mother , my sister and I are all proud cat owners. We used to be a dog family and while we still love them, we have been slowly converted into a cat dominated family. We have always adopted adorable kittens. This year mom ventured forth and rescued an older cat, and wow, I have never seen her so immediately fall in love. Besides the many photo shoots, the email updates to my sister and I, my mother was also inspired to write this article. I think Ollie has found himself a devoted (and spoiled : ) home with my mom.

Here’s Mom Raving about Ollie…

Two months ago I adopted my first ‘senior’ cat, Ollie. He matches my own senior status these days and marked a change in adoption practices. My family has had cats since 1980 and we have loved, in order, Sally, Nelson Velvet, Hestia (we didn’t all love Hestia), Winston and the strange, feral Priscilla. When I found myself catless after Priscilla died, I figured it was the right time to switch from the adorable kittens to owning a cat who had been around the block; one I could identify with.

I hesitated until my daughter Jenny insisted that we visit a shelter. Their bathroom and cat-greeting center is one and the same room, so we interviewed the cats one at a time sitting on the toilet seat next to the shower. The volunteer who guided us through the process was very knowledgeable and introduced the cats in turn. First, they brought Ollie in. Jenny had sighted him originally but I thought that he looked monsterously large. He was coded as a purple personality, reserved but social. Ollie was a contender but I was anxious. So, I turned on all my psychologist skills and interviewed the others. I passed on Julianna who yowled when she was left alone, Trisha who takes more meds than I do, and Fred who was just too depressed to qualify as a companion. We asked for Ollie to return for the final round and he won both our hearts. He is a gorgeous tuxedo cat who might be five years old or might be nine years old and was found starving and sick under a porch in Evanston. It’s hard to imagine. He certainly seems to have forgotten all about his traumatic winter.

I call him Ollie, The Perfect Cat. He is friendly but he doesn’t sleep on my face; independent but tolerates a hug, and social enough to greet each visitor to my home with a personal hello. Living with an older cat instead of a kitten is like having a mature friend who has brought his years of living to the relationship – less adorableness, but less need for training, and a strong sense of experiences lived that remain unspoken.

My mom adopted Ollie at the Evanston Animal Shelter if you are looking for your perfect companion check them out.