Postby chelynnah » Mon Dec 15, 2008 2:47 am

^Met-Met Greenberg, beloved furball, dies at age 12<
^With Photo<


^Associated Press Writer=

NEW HAVEN, Conn. (AP) _ Met-Met Greenberg, a beloved feline known far and wide for having more hair than any other creature on the planet, for her profound appreciation of moths and other insects just looking to be caught, and for her sweet, lovable disposition, died Nov. 26, 1999. She was 12.

Variously nicknamed "Mettie," "Mephistopholes," "Princess Mettie," "Beanbag," and "Fluffhead," Met-Met died after a long battle with cancer of the mouth. She died cuddled in the arms of her adoptive mother, Brigitte Greenberg, and in the presence of her veterinarian, Dr. Katie Van Sluys.

Born on Oct. 10, 1987, in Melbourne, Fla., Met-Met came from a long line of well-bred silver-haired Persians but was given up for adoption to a local animal shelter when an incredibly stupid breeder decided her "tipping" was too dark to be of show quality.

Met-Met was quickly adopted in early 1988 by Ms. Greenberg, then a college student from Northwestern who was on a reporting internship at Florida Today. When Met-Met's huge green eyes met Ms. Greenberg's eyes, there was an immediate connection.

"The instant I saw her I knew we were meant to be together. I had no idea that our time together on Earth would be so short," her mother said. "Mettie was my personal guardian angel. I'll miss her as long as I live."

Met-Met was given her name for a variety of reasons. First, someone (presumably the dumb breeder) had originally given her the ridiculous name, Mi Mi, and her adoptive mother refused to go through life repeating that name, yet didn't want her child to become confused. Second, there were bragging rights to the New York Mets at the time. And third, Met-Met was the password on the computer for the Metro desk at the newspaper.

Their start as mother and daughter was not particularly auspicious. While in the shelter, Met-Met had caught a terrible cold and had become resident host to thousands, if not millions, of fleas.

After treatment for both maladies and Ms. Greenberg's internship was completed, Met-Met was introduced to the entire Greenberg family of Oakdale, N.Y., during a spring vacation. Met-Met was welcomed with open arms by everyone except the family cat, Chachi.

When Ms. Greenberg returned to Northwestern, Met-Met accompanied her, taking up residence at Kappa Delta sorority in Evanston, Ill. There, Met-Met was cooed over and relentlessly petted by dozens of sorority girls but was kept hidden from the house mother for months.

Upon her mother's graduation in 1989, Met-Met was left in the temporary custody of her grandmother, Beverly Greenberg, while the younger Greenberg finished her graduate studies. During her stay on Long Island, Met-Met became famous for mercilessly teasing the family's elder cat, who was not amused by her antics and didn't want to expend the necessary energy to chase her.

Met-Met was reunited with her mother several months later in Hartford, Conn., where Ms. Greenberg had gotten a temporary job with The Associated Press. When a permanent job came open in San Diego, Calif., in 1991, mother and daughter took a cross-country roadtrip, leaving a trail of cat hair in their wake at hotels across America.

They lived in the West for three years, where Met-Met shed like the dickens in the California heat and took up various bad habits, like jumping on her mother's newspaper while she tried to read, and meowing, nay uttering a plaintive wail, for attention while her mother spoke on the phone. Met-Met also liked to stick her head in glasses of water originally intended for her mother. (Met-Met was never broken of those habits throughout her life.)

Met-Met had incredible animal instincts for impending doom and in fact, woke her mother at 4:30 a.m., just moments before the Northridge earthquake practically knocked her out of bed. Neither of them was injured.

Having had enough of the tumult on the West Coast, the two decided to journey back to Connecticut in 1994, when a job opened for her mother in New Haven. In Connecticut, Met-Met took up a life of luxury, spending her days lolling about, dining on gourmet cat food, tuna fish, and chicken and bathing herself when the mood hit her.

Met-Met eventually learned to speak and could converse fluently in a language that only her mother understood. The two would often engage in discussions of the day's goings on, current events, and the general state of the world. (Some observers concluded the mother was insane.)

Met-Met enjoyed having her neck scratched and she often started her internal lawnmower, or purr as it is more commonly known, when the two would lay in bed. Met-Met liked to scamper into interesting hiding places. She particularly liked to hide in closets and drawers where there were soft clothes that she could burrow into.

Met-Met apparently never quite gathered the fact that she was a cat. When visiting the veterinarian for her regular checkups, she often would look down her nose at the other animals in the waiting room as if to say, "What are those things?"

While Met-Met was quite brilliant, and could in fact, read her mother's mind, she also displayed some psychiatric problems. (Is it any wonder?) Sometimes, she would divebomb the house, running from room to room at high speed, chasing some imaginary enemy who taunted her and her alone. She also considered the vacuum cleaner to be her mortal enemy, hissing at the mere sight of the hair-sucking machine.

Despite her quirks, Met-Met was a devoted companion, often meeting her mother at the door, following her around, sitting on her lap, sniffing her hair, and walking on and over her mother's body as she lay sleeping.

Met-Met is survived by her mother; grandmother; aunt Terry; and uncle Marc. In lieu of flowers, donations may be made to the ASPCA, the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals.
Editors Note: "Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above." James 1:17

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