I Didn't Choose my Cat--She Chose Me!
by Mary
(Boise, ID, USA)
Sashamagosh
Sasha was a feral kitten that a friend of mine in Olympia, Washington trapped in a live trap. She was scrawny, flea ridden, had an eye infection, ear mites and a cold. My friend asked me if I wanted her. I looked at her. She looked at me. The rest was history.
I took her to the vet, got her all fixed up, and now she's still a bit of a freak, but I love her. She was probably around 4 months old when she was trapped, so she was almost to the point where taming her would have been near impossible. She still doesn't allow herself to be picked up or approached by strangers, but she's slowly mellowed out over the past few years.
She will let me approach her and pet her while she's laying on the floor, and only very recently (she is now 7 years old)--she started climbing in my lap. But she has always liked to lay against me in bed, and she loves to be patted up and down her back and scratched and massaged.
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