I’d been in my new, cat-friendly apartment for six months when I decided it was time to adopt my first furry pal. Having grown up with cats but never having cared for one alone, I figured I’d choose a young adult, maybe 2-5 years old, as an easy place to start.

Scooby had other ideas. This 11-year-old plushy black kitty won me over with his snuggly, laid-back demeanor and steady purr. After a week of soul-searching, I decided I couldn’t leave this older fellow in the shelter for another night. Within 20 minutes of popping out of his crate, he was purring and begging for cheek rubs.

Now, eight months later, Scooby has settled into my life seamlessly. He shows none of the behavioral and health issues that had prompted his previous owners to surrender him. He spends his days chirping at birds from the window sill, swatting wads of paper across my wood floors, purring like a motorboat, and stealing my pillow every night. I’m endlessly grateful we found each other!