The first time I saw Mini, a 10-year-old rescue cat, I fell in love. She had the greenest eyes, the shiniest blue-black coat, and white paws. Mini was living in the apartment above the vet’s office for over a year. Due to COVID, I was introduced to her though a window. Two days later Mini was in my car going to her new home.
When we got to my house, she explored every room and lay down in a corner to take a nap. I let her sleep and called my family and friends to let them know about my new companion. After a while she woke up and kept exploring, careful not to take a step near me.
After leaving her alone, Mini finally ventured towards me for a pet on her back. I spoke quietly, telling her how happy I was that we would be living together. Listening for a few seconds, she then walked back into her corner. Between her naps she ate very little and (thankfully) used the litter box. When I got into bed that night, she climbed onto the bed and slept a distance away from me.
The next day she was very comfortable and even slept on my lap. We became fast friends. I didn’t like her name and decided that I had to change it. While speaking to my sister we had a good laugh over her name. My grandparents named my mother Mini, which she hated and changed to Mona when she was a young girl. We then discussed new names for Mini and, after telling her what a Deva she was, I decided to rename her Lady Deva, also known as Deva. She sleeps on the bed until 10:00am each morning and only eats foods with gravy. After calling her Lady Deva a few times, she became friendlier. I guess she really didn’t like her name either.
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