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I have always been a cat person. We had great cats while I was growing up, from Peanut—15 pounds of ticked-off claws and teeth—to Mindy, a little black ghost.

Photo: Tim Farrell

I was hesitant to get a cat because I was afraid of the responsibility of ownership. However, after a long-term relationship went south, I found myself single for the first time in five years. That relationship had included three kitties: Lilly, Bella, and Chloe.

I wanted a roommate, so I went to the Independence SPCA shelter to find one. I had no idea what I was looking for, and I looked at several cats that day.

As I was about to make my final decision, I was talking to a volunteer about which tabby I would take home. Then Lisa, as she was called at the time, started reaching through her cage and pawing at me. She was telling me she was the one.

So I said to the volunteer, “I think I’ve been chosen.”

Lisa came home with me that day. I thought she needed a more “cat” name than Lisa, so she became Liffey, named after the River Liffey that flows through Dublin.

She greets me when I get home from work and loves to lie on my chest and make bread. She’s a bit of a dingbat who LIVES to play. If I don’t pay enough attention to her, she flops down and starts playfully attacking my ankles to get me to play.

The picture is from her first visit to the vet. They said they’d never had a cat get up on the cupboard like that.

My ex has since had to move back in with her parents, so now I have three cats: Liffey, Lilly, an American Shorthair with silver tiger stripes, and Bella, a black Ragamuffin mix. Chloe went to live with another friend.

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Story submitted by Tim Farrell from Blue Springs, MO.

This story was originally shared on The Animal Rescue Site. Share your very own rescue story here!