I figured I should get the story of Moab written out, as I figure I mention her enough. Below is how I recollect becoming a fur mother.
My awful assassin cat is a killing machine who is forever pissed to only be eight pounds. How did I obtain such an amazing, forever perturbed creature? Well, you have to start by having a friend who has a bleeding heart for all living things. Her true passion lays somewhere between pine snakes and pit bulls. I know, this doesn’t narrow it down much, but I honestly don’t know if you could pinpoint Kelli’s passion. It belongs with all animals, but especially with herps and abandoned dogs. PS she has 4 dogs to this day, all were rescued by her, or started as foster animals with her.
So, one day, Kelli is helping a new employee train at Carter Tract, which is a parcel of the Econfina Creek Wildlife Management Area (WMA) near Panama City, FL. They stop the truck to look at something for work (gopher tortoise burrows? Who knows…), and 4 adorable tiny kittens run to them screaming their heads off. Some douche canoe has dropped kittens off in the middle of a hunting area to die. And this isn’t the first time this has happened… I feel like if you do this kind of despicable act, you should be dropped off in the Alaskan Wilderness and made to fend for your life with a toothpick and a short sleeve t-shirt that says “I’m an asshole.”
Alright, so the four kittens are snatched up and brought into the truck. They are starving, biting at fingers for milk and food, with every rib showing. While the kittens are being corralled into loving arms, Kelli sneaks a glance at what she assumes is the mother cat. Slinking away through the palmetto, too scared to come to humans. Having to continue working, the adult cat is left. But not forgotten.
Getting back to the regional office, everyone comes out to see the kittens. One is immediately adopted by an employee who agrees to hold onto a second, and the remaining two come home with Kelli. I should also mention that it’s not great practice to bring “alligator food” into your work truck. But technically, this is exotic animal removal in the most humane way possible. If you don’t know about the impacts of outdoor and feral cats on wildlife, I implore you to google the American Bird Conservancy and go through their data. Cats not only are the leading reason for human caused bird population loss, but they impact every taxa of animal on this planet. 63 species of birds have gone extinct because of cats. 2.4 BILLION (you read that right, billion) birds die each year at the paws of cats. Alright I’m done, just saying, cats outside are killing our birds and herps.
So now two kittens are at Kelli’s house, but she knows momma cat is still out there in the woods. The next day, Kelli brings a have-a-heart trap out to where this cat was last seen. She brought the trap, but alas, had forgotten bait. So what is the next best option? Dig around in the work truck of course! What was found may seem gross to us, but that three day old hamburger would have to do the trick. The burger was crumpled up into bits leading into the trap, and viola! The feline hamburgler was captured!
Here’s where it gets funny, Kelli brings what we think is momma cat home to her place to reintroduce her to the kittens. With video rolling, Kelli drops mom into the room with two kittens only to find that her own offspring have turned on her! As the tiny flea ridden kittens hiss at the “mom,” she slinks under the bed, visibly disappointed.
Now, we still think this is the mom. I mean, they look the same, were dropped off at the same location, and the adult cat is producing milk. We are pretty damn sure it’s mom. Regardless, as the kittens all become adopted by family and friends, Kelli and I face the truth that no one wants to adopt a feral adult cat that’s terrified of people. Finally, I cave, and decide to take this human-hating cat home.
She has fleas, ticks, ear mites, worms, literally anything you could imagine a cat to have that’s been dumped in the woods. I take her in and decide to give her a flea bath. I mean, I don’t want to get my place infested, plus she looks miserable. She barely has any strength to fight me as I start washing her down. The soap suds are died red with blood as the fleas slowly get washed away in the sink.
A few minutes in, feral cat has what I can only describe as a stroke. Her whole body tenses up, she shits everywhere, and eyes roll back in her head. I’m like, great. Now I have to dig a hole in the backyard and explain to Kelli I murdered this cat with soap. I try to prop her up multiple times, for her only to fall backwards like a stiff rag. After 30ish seconds of me trying to make this rigid thing stand, she snaps back to life. Like nothing happened. What a little shit, making me freak out. I towel her off, but my expectations of her making it through the night are nonexistent.
I decide to make her some personal space in the bathroom, with food, litter, water, and some dry towels to sleep on. I close the door, only to hear the most pitiful mew coming from her room. I open the room, and this feral cat, who I’m assuming will always be terrified of me, hops up on the bed! Like she owned the place!
After that night, I knew I had found my buddy, and decided to name her Moab. She looked desert-ish, and wild, plus she kind of looked like a bobcat. Hence Mother of All Bobcats (MoAB). It’s stupid, I know. After a few days of food and love, she started to look like a real cat!
Well, the rest is history. I got her spayed, and documented her progression from underweight scaredy cat to very overweight cat, back down to normal weight normal scared cat. Her favorite things are playing fetch with a hair tie, and plotting my death. She also enjoys sitting on me and staring at my face for ungodly amounts of time. Her dislikes are new people, Odin (Cas’ dog), and men. Writing that out just now, I realize we are very much alike….
Anyway, here are some progression pics of Moab. This is long, and I don’t care. I love this stupid cat, and you should too. Also, Kelli, thank you for rescuing my best bud. I need to go to Cleveland…
Finally got a collar 
Nose is looking rough still
Three months in, looking pretty normal!
Ok, 6 months in and we’ve hit a fat stage. I don’t want to body shame her, so this is the only fat photo you get.
Bobcat-esque, 1 year in 
Still normal size, almost 2 years later
Kelli making cat friends at the local dive bar 
The Buoy and the Admiral!