My first kitty has grown ridiculously affectionate and wacky in her “old” age. I think she’s about five years old now.

As a kitten she was a little violent, but I overlooked it since she was so young. Tiger appeared at a house party when she was hardly six weeks old, and rather than leave her there, my friend Laura brought her to me.

I never intended to keep her and my dad was initially staunchly against the idea. I didn’t look very hard for another home for her though, so she stayed. She always had a wild look about her, and it was reflected in her aggression. Nancy called her Satan when she first met her.

Nowadays, Tiger likes to settle in a different spot every day. While I was home this week, she claimed a box on the kitchen counter, the top of the front door, the toilet, and the kitchen table.

She stayed with my dad when I moved to the Bay. I always planned on taking her and the other cat when I could find a proper apartment, but by now both cats have become attached to my dad, and while he still complains about them from time to time, I know he actually enjoys their company.

(Yeesh, this ended up much longer than anticipated.)

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