Moms may technically be kitten. But spiritually?
She is 82, has seen EVERYTHING, and is deeply disappointed by the quality of men currently available.
LOOK AT HER.
That face does not say, “I’m just a baby.”
That face says: “Baby, I was tired before you got here.”
Moms has the energy of a woman who has been sitting at the kitchen table since 7:00 a.m. in a housedress, drinking coffee, collecting neighborhood information, and quietly deciding which marriages are not going to make it.
You cannot surprise her. You cannot scandalize her. And if you try to tell her something shocking?
Moms will look at you like: “Please. I knew about that before your mother did.”
Moms is sweet, affectionate, and absolutely capable of becoming the matriarch of your entire household despite weighing less than a rotisserie chicken.
She will know which young gentleman across the room has been working out.
Because yes. Moms likes the younger men. We introduced her to one handsome, mature male cat.
Very respectful. Very established. Moms looked him up and down. Paused.
Then basically asked: “Does he have a son?”
There are kittens present. She has absolutely no interest in some tired old tomcat talking about his back pain and preferred brand of joint supplement.
Moms wants ENERGY. She wants VITALITY.
She wants someone who can still jump onto the counter without making a noise on the way down.
And honestly? She has earned that.
Moms is also a natural storyteller.
Something happens in the kitten room and everyone else moves on.
Moms remembers. Catalogues it. Adds context.
By dinner, there is a full oral history.
By bedtime, somebody’s reputation has been permanently altered.
She is spayed, microchipped, vaccinated, and ready to move into a home where her wisdom will be respected and her business will remain everybody else’s business.