I must have scrolled through hundreds of cats (many of whom tugged at my heartstrings, and all who deserved loving homes), when one day I saw Arby on the Happy Tails Cat Rescue site in Sacramento. I instantly knew that he was the cat. He was 12 years old, his owner had died and he'd been thrown out of the house by the owner's daughter. The neighbors called Happy Tails and he was picked up. Older cats aren't in great demand, so he'd remained a resident at the shelter for a year.
I emailed the contact person and all systems were go for me to adopt him. Bruce and I drove up to Sacramento, where I met Arby, fell in love and was all set to take him home. And then...I was asked to sign a form where I agreed that Arby would be strictly an indoor cat and would never be allowed to go outdoors. We live out in the country, have a cat door, and all of our cats are indoor/outdoor cats. I couldn't sign the form. So Bruce and I sadly left Arby there and went back home. That evening, I got an email from the contact person saying that she was certain we were the perfect home for Arby and they would waive the requirement that he be an indoor-only cat. She would even drive Arby to Stockton for us so we wouldn't have to go all the way back to Sacramento to pick him up.
And the rest is history. Arby came to us and almost immediately took on the responsibilities of Chemo-Cat: he was my constant companion and comfort during my year of chemotherapy (Bruce was too, but he isn't a cat). He took on the role of companion and comforter and was always by my side. He would faithfully follow me from room to room throughout the day and was always nearby. He took his job very seriously.
Now that I'm better, he still is my little cuddle-bug when I'm home. Such a good cat!
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