My name is Angie and I have the same question as a lot of shelter animals: what does “home” really mean?  To some people, it’s a physical location. A city. A building. It’s not always where you live- sometimes, it’s where you came from… or where you’re headed. Where your heart belongs. Where you feel safe.  And for some, it’s a person. You could be stranded on a distant moon and, as long as you have them, you’re home.  And me? I’m still searching for mine.  I’m a very affectionate cat. When someone pets me, I just melt into them. I love being held and will hang on to them and purr and just hope and hope that they’ll never let me go. Hope that some of the love I’m sending them hits its mark.

Although I know I’ve got a cute little grumpy face, I’m a happy cat. This is just how I look! I’m sweet and adaptable and don’t know the meaning of “stranger.”  I’m only two years old, but I’m a very chill cat. In the shelter, my cage is my “home,” but… not really. I like to stick close to it even when it’s open. While I have no problem with dogs, other cats kind of freak me out. And this place is chock-full of cats, so if I don’t have a gentle human nearby to cuddle, I prefer to just hang back and keep an eye on things.  I’m ready to be at home in your lap. In your arms. And maybe, if I’m very lucky, I could even become part of your family.