Stories of the Moose
The Day I Met Moose
You there. Yes, you. You are mine now. This room will do nicely for the time being.
It's my second year of college. My first year was spent at Franklin Pierce College in Rindge, New Hampshire. A good school, but a bit on the pricey side. Not to mention no one has heard of it. The parents and I decided to look elsewhere for my education.
I applied and was accepted to the University of West Florida. We searched in Florida specifically because we thought we might get in-state tuition (since my parents owned land there). No such luck, but it is a nice school and I was excited about the prospect of Florida.
So I get off the plane in Pensacola and was immediately disappointed. See, I was expecting Miami Vice (that is all I knew of Florida). What greeted me was Deliverance. No flamingoes, no Crockett and Tubbs, no Versace outfits, no convertible Ferraris. I was, shall we say, displeased. It turns out North Florida is nothing like South Florida.
But, when I arrived on campus and immediately fell in love with it. "That's it," I said. "Campus is the jewel of culture and intellectualism in this sea of NASCAR and pickup trucks." I checked myself in and settled in for the semester.
Time passed, not sure how much, but I noticed several cats roaming around the campus. They looked friendly enough and well-cared for. But I was not much of a cat person at the time. There was a quartet of cats outside my dorm: a long haired black-and-white Maine Coon, a small gray-and-white DSH, a tiny gray DSH, and an oddly-colored Siamese-type cat. One day I decided to leave the outside door open to my building, hoping that one of the cats would pop in and say "Hi."
Hi, indeed. The odd Siamese made her way into the hallway, up the spiral staircase to the second floor, and right into my room. We spent a few minutes together and I thought, "Hey, I just made a friend." She thought, "You there! Yes, you! This room will do nicely. I will allow you to take care of me." From day one she had some attitude, but still very nice. Like a dottering old queen who speaks in the third person.
We'll get back to this Siamese shortly, but let me digress and tell you about the Campus Cats back story.
More time passed and one day a young woman approached me as I was leaving my dorm. She introduced herself as Jennifer and asked if I were caring for the cats outside my building. She had apparently seen me let the cats in and out of my room. "I guess I am," I replied. Turns out Jennifer was the president of the University of West Florida Student Humane Association (UWFSHA) and their duty was to care for the Campus Cats (of which there were dozens). They were mostly abandoned by students graduating, or by people that couldn't bear to bring them to the pound. I joined them and volunteered well over 1200 hours to the cause in my 5 school years at UWF. My main duty was to troll all over campus and feed all the cats.
Now, back to the Siamese, which I eventually learned was a Tonkinese (tortie-point, to be precise). She was nameless for a while, but one day the name "Moose" blurted out. I had recently visited my Uncle in Michigan and he had a big orange-and-white tabby named Pouncer. But we just called him Moose because of his size. I had apparently gotten into the habit of calling cats "Moose." Anyway, my odd little Tonkinese responded with a inquisitive "meow?"
So, her name was now Moose. And it was good.