Moxie was often found sauntering down Middle Path, lounging in the Campus Safety office or hitching a ride on a backpack. His presence in Gambier brought light to so many since he was adopted by local resident Susan Stevens, pastor of Gambier Epworth United Methodist Church. Stevens discovered Moxie and his brother, Mosey, as strays along a back road in 2017. Here, our community remembers the life of Moxie.
“My boy touched so many hearts and souls. I too loved him from afar because he felt the need to minister to you all. My prayers are with all those whose hearts he touched. Know that his legacy lives on in all of you. Go be Moxies in the world in which you live.”
Art by Teddy Hannah-Drullard ’20, residing in the office of Assistant Professor of Political Science and Asian Studies Michelle Mood.
“Moxie came into my upstairs Acland House office one time, perambulated once, and promptly left with a sniffy attitude. Being a cat lover, I felt like I was being snubbed so thoroughly I could only laugh at his catlike judgeyness. I did not rate!”
— Assistant Professor of Political Science and Asian Studies Michelle Mood
“I’m going to miss seeing him laying in the Campus Safety window seat he loved to sleep in! I’d say good morning to him most mornings as I got to work and throughout the day as I came and went from the office. He was a very unique individual and I often told people that I thought he was Paul Newman reincarnated as a cat. 🤣 He was the best boy. ❤️ One of my favorite memories (as seen in one of the pictures) was the time that he got himself stuck on the roof of Wiggin Street Coffee — needless to say, the entire village, myself included, rallied to his rescue! Including, no pun intended, the fire department saving him from his perch! 🤣🤣🤣 Rest in peace, dude … we loved ya!”
—J.P. Downes, Campus Safety Officer
“Moxie regularly jumps up onto the backpacks of passing humans, traversing campus on his two-legged chariots. He delights the school, but also disturbs it. Recently, for example, the fire department had to rescue the cat from a coffee shop’s roof. He likes to infiltrate classroom buildings, too; signs warning students not to let Moxie into the lecture halls abound. Every once in a while he enters Kenyon’s on-campus Episcopal church unannounced, in the middle of Reverend Rachel Kessler’s sermons.”
“Safe travels over the rainbow bridge, Moxie. Your companionship during my time at Kenyon College made Gambier feel even more like home and inspired me to adopt a black cat of my own. You will be missed ❤️”
— Evangeline Warren ’19
“Moxie, whose official home was the Methodist parsonage just off campus, spent his time wandering around, interacting with whomever he encountered, riding shotgun with the Safety officers, hitchhiking on the top of students’ backpacks, and otherwise ruling the campus. He liked to enter buildings when allowed, and spent a lot of time in the Safety office, where he had a bed, toys, food and water, and a supply of treats. The steady stream of visitors he received there were not all there to talk to Safety. An unlicensed therapy cat, Moxie was a friend to all in good times and in bad, and could be trusted to keep a confidence. He will be widely and deeply missed.”
“Moxie was one of a kind. Sassy and beautiful. Intuitive and funny. Spoiled rotten and giving. He had the best life a cat could have.”
— Miracle Mahle, Campus Safety Administrative Assistant
The photo to the right was captured "about 10 minutes after arriving on campus after 11 months away for COVID. Moxie was so, so special."
- Allegra Fass '21
Left: Teddy Hannah-Drullard ’20 with Moxie.
Right: with Sarah Dailey ’20.
Excerpts from an artist's book made by Zoe Kleeman '22 for a studio art class with Instructor of Art Ellen Sheffield.
“In a place like Gambier, where so many experiences are universal, being graced with his presence felt like a mark of distinction. I, an avowed dog person who is allergic to cats, stopped working when he laid down on my desk. How was I supposed to focus in the presence of celebrity? I took a bunch of pictures as he lounged, just so I could rub my coworkers' noses in the fact that, for a brief time, I had been chosen. Like all cats, he seemed indifferent to our affection — in the best way — but nevertheless dutifully made his rounds each day, like the goodwill ambassador that he was.”