I believe I speak for all parents when I say that we only want our children to have what's best for them. The same holds true for our pets.

We had a cat who disappeared from our house six years ago recently resurface at a local barn about a half-mile from our house.

Taz, as he was known for six years prior to exiting our lives the day we moved to our new house, was found two weeks ago by a friendly neighbor. And while I cannot be sure, it seems as if Taz has used most, if not all, of his God-given nine lives.

The story started simply enough: A neighbor searching for one of his own lost cats asked about one we had lost six years ago. After a few minutes of describing the cat to us, curiosity got the better of me and I had to ask "the" question. "Does he drool when you pet him and are a few of his teeth broken off?"

Taz had the ability to create a 3-inch pool of cat slobber under his chin when you scratched him between the ears, and he had several teeth that are probably still embedded in the hind end of a raccoon, another cat or some unfortunate mailman.

"Yep. Never saw anything slobber so much," he retorted.

Of course, there was only one way to seal the deal: get directions to this cat's new house and see for sure. It was exactly half a mile behind my house, straight through the woods and around a small housing development.

"Hi. I'm ¿" I was cut off by Paulette.

"You are the owner of Tom Tom," she said, shaking my hand.

"He's bigger than I remember him," I said, disregarding the fact that his name had been changed. How were they to know since there were no tags on him when he disappeared?

"All of the riders that board their horses here feed him," Paulette responded knowingly.

Taz looked more like a bear than a cat, but as soon as I petted his head, a spigot of water poured through his whiskers, right past a couple of chipped teeth. It was a relief to know that he'd found a home.

"How long has he been here" I questioned.

"About two years or so. Doesn't do much except eat, sleep and avoid getting kicked by the horses." Taz always was smart.

To see him living the good life, surrounded by friendly people and living in a very natural environment, made me warmer than my lap when he used to sit on it during Steelers football games.

For the next half-hour, we exchanged stories about the things he does, like lie on newspaper while you're trying to read, purr like a Harley-Davidson as soon as you touch him and roll on his back, allowing you to scratch his belly. (He got that from me, I'm sure.)

And while I'd love to tell you he is back with us, I couldn't do that to him knowing that he's right where he wants to be. Instead, I will continue to stop by periodically to check on him and make sure he's bringing joy to someone else, just like he did for me so many years.

My daughter cuddled with me that night and thanked me for introducing her to Taz.

"I always wanted to meet him, Daddy. He disappeared before I was born," she smiled. Now Taz had brought her joy too. But I couldn't help to think that one day, she'd be the one leaving me for a new house and her own independent life. For now, though, she was all mine and I would give her the best life had to offer.

Christian Ola, a community columnist for the Butler Eagle, resides in Mars with his wife, son and daughter and can be reached at christianola@aol.com and through his Web site, www.christianola.com.