Photo above: Roger, aka “Chonk”, by Brian Benefield
[This is the latest installment of “Cobb Cuisine, Culture and Community” by Brian Benefield. Photo above by Brian Benefield]
I ride my bike several times a week down past the Confederate cemetery along the Mountain to River trail. I always see familiar faces and enjoy the beautiful artwork on the pedestrian bridges. Several years ago, a cat named Roger befriended me in the houses behind the cemetery.
I nicknamed him Chonk because he was a wee bit rotund. But he couldn’t be any friendlier and always came running when he heard my 80s workout music blasting from my bike speaker. This is rare for an outdoor cat, which are usually skittish and wary of humans. He liked to rub his face on my bike pedals and roll over to show me his fuzzy belly.
He had several neighbor caretakers who made sure he was well fed and had a warm bed in the winter. Chonk wasn’t there on my recent visit, and sadly, I learned that he passed away. It’s human nature how we get so attached to our animals, even ones that aren’t ours. I took many pictures over the years, so I’ll have those special memories. The kind people at Good Mews are always helping cats like Roger, and our community is grateful. I will miss you lil’ buddy…
There are places in Marietta where you go to buy groceries, places where you go for coffee, and places where you go because you suddenly realize you need 14 different varieties of hot sauce. And then there is Good Mews Animal Foundation, where you go to meet a cat and may leave wondering whether the cat has actually adopted you.
Tucked away on Robinson Road, Good Mews has been giving homeless, abandoned, and abused cats a second chance since 1988. It is a virtually cage-free, no-kill shelter, and its residents are not treated like temporary guests waiting impatiently for a bus. They are treated like what they clearly believe themselves to be: the owners.
Walk into Good Mews, and you quickly discover that cats have very specific ideas about interior design. There are cat trees, shelves, beds, cozy corners, and plenty of elevated real estate from which to observe the humans below. After all, somebody has to supervise. And there are a lot of supervisors.
Good Mews typically has about 100 cats living at the shelter, with additional cats in foster care and its HALO program for cats with significant or ongoing medical needs. Since its founding, the organization has helped place thousands of cats into permanent homes.
But the magic of Good Mews isn’t really measured in numbers. It’s measured in whiskers. It’s the shy cat who finally decides that a human hand might not be so bad after all. It’s the senior cat who has spent too long waiting for someone to notice that wisdom comes with four paws. It’s the kitten who has apparently been powered by three cups of espresso and has decided your shoelace is the most important object on Earth.
And behind every one of those cats is an army of people who believe that every feline deserves a chance. Good Mews has hundreds of volunteers who help with everything from daily care and medical support to socializing cats and helping potential adopters find their perfect match.
The adoption process is deliberately thoughtful. Good Mews isn’t trying to win a race to see how many cats can walk out the door. The goal is to find the right home for the right cat, for the rest of that cat’s life. Adoption counselors essentially serve as feline matchmakers, which sounds like a wonderful job until you realize the clients probably have stronger opinions than most humans on a first date.
And perhaps that is what makes Good Mews special. It isn’t simply a place where cats are waiting to be rescued. It is a place where cats are reminded that people can be kind. Eventually, a door opens. A carrier appears. A cat who once needed a safe place now has a family. The cat may pretend to be unimpressed. That’s fine, because cats have reputations to maintain.
But somewhere between Marietta and forever, another little story gets its happy ending, and that’s about as good as the mews gets.
Brian Benefield is an Atlanta native born in Dekalb County, who has lived in Cobb since 2003. He has worked in Hospitality, Marketing, Real Estate, and most recently Food Tourism. Married to Cecilie Benefield for 12 blissful years. They have a dog, Miss Pickles. Hobbies are mountain biking, running, gardening, and trying new recipes in the kitchen. Member of Les Marmitions cooking club since 2016, where we cook 5-course meals with local Atlanta chefs.