I rarely talk about Mishka, our other cat, as he is quiet, timid, snuggly, and never does anything wrong. He is a sweet guy and I enjoy cuddling with him on the couch. He is going to be 16 in April and his legs are really bad. He has arthritis and some nerve damage in his back due to rough handling by a VET years ago.
Mudpie is the extroverted adventurer of our household. The rest of us are kinda shy, anxious, and a bit neurotic.
Both Mishka and Mudpie came from a cat rescue that picks up strays in the Kensington Market area of Toronto.
http://www.kensington-market.ca/Default.asp?id=home&l=1
We got Mishka first. He was still a kitten, although almost a teenager. He is a grey tabby. He was very muscular and graceful, and always posed himself with his paws, tail, and body just so. We named him in honour of Mikhail Baryshnikov
https://www.google.ca/url?sa=t&rct=j...60157871,d.b2I
Mudpie came a couple of weeks after Mishka. She was an adult female tortoishell who turned out to have long hair (she looked like a short haired cat before we started grooming her). The cat rescue people had found her in a parking lot, inside a cardboard box where she'd given birth to a litter of kittens. All of her kittens had been given home when we picked her up or we would have gotten one of them as well.
We met Muddy at the foster mom's home. There were 3 of her own cats present. We got out a package of cat treats and started making friends. The foster mom went to look for Mudpie as she wasn't coming forward with the others. Mud was in her kitchen, on top of the stove, trying to fish one of the wieners the woman was making for dinner out of the pot boiling away. She was quite miffed at being thwarted in this but, when seeing that DH had treats, she ran up to him, jumped in his lap, and bit him in the thumb!
I think it was love at first sight (or is that bite) for both of them. We immediately said that this cat was the one we wanted, much to the foster mom's amazement.
After getting her home and having her around for a few days we still couldn't agree on a name. I wanted to call her Ember because she was black and orange and had a tuft of bright orange fur on the end of her tail. DH snorted every time I said this.
He finally came up with the name Mudpie for two reasons. First, her colouring is a bit like the dessert "Mississippi Mud Pie". Second, she is a bit of a slob - always has been. She is pretty indifferent to grooming and will often be found walking around with kitty litter on the end of her nose. She has "bed head" at least two or three mornings a week which I comb out for her. So DH thought that "Mudpie" was the perfect name for her. I agreed and from then on that was her name.
She has lived up to it over the years. She is rowdy and cheerful and playful - I call her the tortie labrador retriever. She likes to chew the furniture - yes CHEW - and has left her mark on this house by gnawing the corners of the teak sideboard. She will eat anything - tortilla chips, olives, raw meat and fish, walnut crullers, grapes, etc. She still rarely "combs" her hair and when she lies down it looks like she's been dropped from a great height and splattered, rather than gracefully posing like Mishi.
During her over 16 years with us Mudpie has amused and charmed us. She has exasperated and alarmed us. She is a one-of-a-kind larger-than-life character and an amazing creature. She has loved us with every ounce of her now 7 lb. furry self, loudly and exuberantly. And we have loved and still love her back.
She is my little "Stefania" and my heart will break into a million pieces when she dies. I hope I can let her go when she is still comfortable and still knows that we are with her and love her.
Dagmar
time, I think. We can get through this bit.
to those who are on track. 
don't let me go outside. After more than one day indoors I start craving being outside.
