Finally, after weeks of beating the bushes, putting up flyers, and sending out emails to everyone I know in the DC area, it looks like I have found a home for our cat, Mocha. We’ll miss her, but it’s the right choice for everyone. Even my son, who is not at all happy about this move, and who is quite attached to her, agrees that it’s for the best.

Mocha is a queen among cats: one of the smartest felines we’ve ever had, and a champion hunter. But, she has a job to do, you see, and that’s patrolling the family property. She is most determinedly an outdoor cat. We are moving to a lovely top-floor apartment in Vienna, and not only do we know she will never be happy without a yard, we are also concerned that she might jump right off the balcony in a bid for freedom.

And then there is that traveling thing. Mocha has something to say about cat carriers, and that is: Do Not Like. The vet says she is part Siamese, and I think he’s right, because you have never heard such a racket on the five-minute drive to the vet. Yeah, we could dope her up for the trip, but we’ve tried that before with another opinionated cat, and it didn’t work out too well. (I can’t imagine taking her out of carrier for security, either–she’d probably try to climb right over my head to get away.)

Mocha was a shelter kitty, like all our cats. Part of the fun of adopting a shelter mutt is that you never know what you’ll end up with. She has been a wonderful addition to our family for the last few years, but she is not, alas, a Foreign Service Feline. She’ll be moving to a new house and yard, which just happens to be occupied by a ten year old girl who is so excited to be getting a cat and a small dog who apparently loves cats as well. Mocha doesn’t currently count dogs among her friends, but if any cat could set firm boundaries with a friendly spaniel it’s this one. I have offered to come back and get her if it truly isn’t working out after a week or so, but I am sure it will. In fact, I’m betting that a dumb dog will be an endless source of entertainment for her.

Meanwhile, the other cat, a timid, middle-aged yellow tabby that we rescued from a barn in the Czech Republic, has a proven track record of becoming completely catatonic (yuk-yuk) on plane flights. Ever since he got lost in the woods for two months, he doesn’t go more than about thirty feet from our front door. In fact, he will love having a sunny rooftop terrace to laze around on, with walls to make sure he can’t get lost! And, he’s sort of fat and stinky and no one would ever want to adopt him, anyway. So, he’s coming with us: back to the land of his birth, where five of his six layers of fur will finally be useful again, and where there is no part-Siamese harpy to beat up on him.

It’s a tough choice to give up a pet, and it’s actually a lot harder to find a home for a healthy, pretty cat than I thought it would be. But this feels right. Bye-bye Mocha. Have a great life in your new home!