When I walked into the cattery, there was a bank of smallish cages, mostly empty. But one, at my
shoulder level contained the cutest black and white female with wide, crazy eyes. When I opened the cage to see if I could pet her, she stepped out onto my shoulder and started purring. That was that. And it was already obvious to me that her birthday must have been April 1.
She was bold, curious, and at times maddening. This happens every time I get a young cat (3 times so far): they are impossibly cute and cuddly, but I forget the coming mischief. Also, I tend to forget how sharp their tiny teeth and claws are, and how readily they are deployed. High Tops (so named as her paws were white a way up, like high top sneakers) climbed EVERYTHING - especially me. As a result I looked as if I had picked a bushel of blackberries naked (just scratched, not dyed). When she started climbing the inside of lamp shades, I knew something had to be done. It was, and while I am sad about it, here was my calculus: I will give her a great life as an inside cat and this I can only do if she does not destroy my nest. (Miss Kitters remained fully armed and had destroyed the backs of my upholstered furniture, as cats do.)High Tops (HT) never held a grudge. She was left alone at times for several days with an automatic feeder and plenty of water, she was left at home and periodically tended by friends during longer trips, and was regularly taken to the V E T, where she charmed every one. In some ways she was like a dog: friendly and lacking feline type malice. She even tolerated two major affronts: ..................to be detailed in future posts.
I REALLY want my reader(s) to want to read my posts. Lengthy pet posts can threaten this desired outcome. But you have been warned: I have more to say on this topic!