Happy retirement to Reggie!  Sweet face?  A pun?
Charleen
Mr. Pumpkin
Aggie Marble
Victor Velcro

I know what you mean! In some stores where there's a cat, I'll make
a point of stopping in just to visit the kitty, never mind to check
out the stuff.

Sounds like a loss for everyone, maybe even for Reggie, who sounds
like he enjoyed being a very social cat.

Joyce

Purrs that Reggie adjusts readily to his new home.  It will be
quite a change.

I hope Reggie adjusts well to the easy life of those who no longer have
to slave at the daily grind. I can appreciatge this fellow; customer
service is a hard job, and few are the folks who can do it well.

We had this old-fashioned pharmacy in downtown Buffalo, Strozzi's. It was
one of the rare bits of civilized and honest business in the middle of a
redlight district dominated by dirty book stores, hock shops and gin
mills. While it had a pharmacist and shelves full of ancient
apothecary-type stuff by a company called Purepac, its biggest and
best-known trade was in high-end and hard to find perfumes. You see
designer minis all the time now, but these guys had them before anyone I
know of. They had this cat named Malibu who served as their mascot and
hostess. Huge? This gentle calico was wider than she was tall. She had to
have weighed a good thirty pounds. I was one of the few she ever allowed
to lift her, and it took a mighty effort. From the back she looked like a
gigantic capital Q. Perfectly round, with a little tail that curled out.
If you've ever read Ramona the Pest, who in kindergarten learned to make
a Q with ears and whiskers, you'd see immediately.  (I think that's the
right book; Beverly Clearly wrote a boatload of books with Ramona Quimby
in them.) People used to come to the shop to see this hulking cat just by
word-of-mouth, and end up wondering how they walked out with a bag full
of perfume. People drove down from Central Ontario to get pictures of
Malibu. She was a gentle giant, and for all her bulk she was one of the
daintiest and most ladylike cats I've ever met yet.

Strozzi's shut down almost fifteen years ago, and Malibu went to live
with one of her many admirers. The district where the drugstore once
stood is now lined with cafes and clubs that cater to people far younger
than myself, who don't look like hell in a black minidress and don't
remember the birth of hair mousse, friensdship pins, or key-tars. But
there are still a good many people downtown who fondly remember Malibu,
one of the most elegant ladies who ever worked Old Chippewa.

Blessed be,
Baha