When I was 19 years old I got myself a kitten. She was 7 weeks old, and I got her at a yard sale. She was free to good home. I drove home with her crying in the back seat, and the very first night she punched me in the eye while I was sleeping.
She used to fit into roller skates, that's how tiny she was. My roommate and I would put her in a skate and cruise her around the hardwood floors.
When she was 9 mos old I got Clancy, another babycat, and Koko was VERY unhappy. Koko was a tortoiseshell you see, and they do NOT like other animals. I was unaware of that before I got Clancy. Now I know.
Eventually Koko and Clancy reached an accord, and lived for 15+ years together. Clancy used to torment Koko by staring at her and not touching her. You could almost hear 2 kids in the back of a car. "Mom! He's looking at me!" "So? I'm not touching you!"
Koko like canned food and water. She loved yarn. She loved curling up next to the space heaters and when I was lucky enough to have a fireplace she would camp out right in front of it.
Today I helped Koko cross from this world. She was 17 and ill, but it was one of the hardest things I've ever done. The vet, Dr Mullins, deserves a special mention, because she did a wonderful job with the actual procedure. But my babycat is gone, the last bit of my 20s is gone, and I'll never see that pissed off catface again.
She will be most assuredly missed, every day, for the rest of my days.