Marie Burkard, Moo & Rhys
The Long Beach Humane Society on Long Island has a magical offshoot called Kitty Cove and this is where I found Moo: a black and white, non-symmetrical tuxie, asleep in a cat tree hideaway, unnoticed in the chaos of kittens running around and scaling newcomers' legs. Unsure of how I would pick a cat, I had brought along my best friend for help. When I turned the cat tree on its side to get little Moo out of the cubby he was hiding in, he tumbled out and promptly rolled onto his back, stretched, and waited patiently for his belly rub. The decision was instantaneous really.
The women at the shelter cried when I took him, telling me he had been there 5 months unnoticed because he was so quiet and laid back, and they all wished they could have adopted him. Moo is much the same now. He loves a nap, a belly rub, and has zero territorial bones in his little body (he's a petite 9 lbs.).
Two years after moving to Brooklyn for work, it was clear Moo needed a friend. He would cry at the door when I left for work and would still be crying and losing his voice when I got home. Since I was no longer on Long Island, I took to looking at foster kittens on Instagram. My friend sent me this litter of kittens all named after the characters in a book series by a favorite author of mine (Sarah J. Maas). I followed the foster account @kittentailsnyc without thinking about adoption specifically in September 2017. In January 2018, I decided to get a kitten for Moo. I did have some reservations because I lived in a studio apartment and I was worried about socialization. But I checked back on that Instagram account and saw one kitten from the litter was left still 4 months later. Still!
“I used to make jokes that I would turn 30 alone with my cats not realizing that my future would in fact involve turning 30 in the middle of a pandemic, sick with COVID, alone... with my cats.”
The poor baby was an all-black cat. Apparently, I have learned, people don't like black cats and he had gone unwanted by adopters. His story seemed so similar to Moo's (5 months old, last in the litter to be adopted, shy/quiet) that I had to meet him. He was very shy when I visited, running away every time we tried to get near. But once I grabbed him, pulled him into my lap, and scruffed his fur on his neck, he melted. And when I brought him home one week later, Moo cried the happiest purring chirps I've ever heard from him. Their socialization process took 6 hours.
I named the new baby Rhys. I told everyone that since they had given me a hard time for naming Moo after the sound a cow makes (I can't help that he looks like a cow) that I was giving Rhys a proper Welsh name since I'm part Welsh. The truth is... I named him after a character in a different book series by that same author. His foster mom approved the name change.
Rhys is the complete opposite of dainty Moo. He is a chunky 16lb all-black house panther. He is super derpy and socially awkward. He's very noisy and very expressive. If he's frustrated, he huffs dramatically. If he's hungry, he wails at the ceiling. When he wants to play, he brings you his toys and plays fetch better than any dog I've ever met. He grooms Moo like he is his mother and he likes nothing more than to be scooped up and hugged like a baby for hours. He has zero boundaries, his belly, his toes, his tail are all up for pets. Moo loves a belly rub and head bump, but he is not the same level of cuddly that Rhys is.
During COVID they have been an endless source of comfort and distraction. I used to make jokes that I would turn 30 alone with my cats not realizing that my future would in fact involve turning 30 in the middle of a pandemic, sick with COVID, alone... with my cats. They have failed every single Tik Tok challenge, they did not care to navigate any obstacle course and instead dinosaur-stomped their way through things, and holding my hand above their heads without petting them didn't upset them like all the other pets, they just reached up to bump my hand on their own. I did, however, learn that ASMR videos work on cats. Or at least on Rhys (Moo needs no encouragement to sleep).
Marie Burkard is a 30-year-old Michigander turned reluctant New Yorker. She’s a lawyer, currently working in compliance at Stripe, a fintech startup that is cooler than her.