I was out of state and four hours away from undergoing surgery when my mother called with horrible news. Our beloved Lab of thirteen years, Raphael, was gravely ill and had to be euthanized. There was no time for final goodbyes, last kisses, or long hugs - only my official approval to end his suffering. I tearfully agreed and went into surgery soul sick.

A few months later, my five-year-old son, Anastas, came home with a book about Russian Blue Cats. He asked if we could get one.

...a cat?  The idea never entered my mind. To that moment, I had always been a dog person. My father was even a dog breeder in Southern Ukraine, so I grew up with Russian Terriers, Moscow Shepherds, Collies, and Great Danes.

Initially, we brushed off his request, like most parents that are being asked to do something that they just don’t feel like doing. We'd give a response like, “We'll see”, “Maybe later”, “Have you cleaned your room?” or "Squirrel!” But Anastas soldiered on, and weeks later brought home another cat book. 

This one was filled with images of many breeds and looking through it was the first time I saw a picture of a Maine Coon. I instantly opened Google to see more. These were like cats I had never seen: large, bold, with an intense, wild look in their eyes. I began to realize that there would soon be a giant feline in our family. 

Eventually, my husband and I agreed that we would get a cat. There was one condition… that the cat be a rescue so we could be sure that a cat was a good fit for us before we spent the money that a “real” Maine Coon would cost. We searched the shelters for any cat that resembled a Maine Coon, and settled on our first cat, Leo, named  after my childhood favorite Russian cartoon show, “Leopold the Cat." While Leo was a far cry from a Maine Coon, he was great, and we soon started looking for a pure pedigreed European Maine Coon. 

I sometimes wonder what Raphael would think if he saw our house filled with wild-looking cats!?

Knowing him, he would have loved them, too!