Well, I suppose I should have seen it coming. The Miles family has a new addition. When Sir William died, I was absolutely adamant I wasn't going to get another cat. You know, the I am NEVER having another cat, three is enough, etc., etc variety. So, to fill the VERY big hole, His Royal Fatness had left, I took on a 4 month old feral cat to foster and just generally socialise. Ready to be adopted - by someone else.
Now, when I say feral, we are talking FERAL. The I've got Cattitude, and I hate humans, and you're all a bunch of B**tards, and I REFUSE to be socialised type of feral. A 4 month old, small, classic tabby, with white chin, a bib, and four white paws, madam. With SERIOUS CATittude.
The story is, that she was trapped by a local CPL member on a golf course, where she was living with her mum. Mum was so completely feral, the only thing we were able to do, was spay and re-release her. The lady fostering her was getting no-where, so as I had a space, I agreed to have a go at bringing her around.
Well..... thus far, she really is not impressed with me, I have had the full range of hisses, spits, growls and claws. However, she has the 3 boys (His Royal Feline Lordship Tiger, Sir Robertson, and Sir Sam-lunchalot) totally entranced, and completely wrapped around her very small paw. They think she is the best thing since ring pulls on cat food cans, and they ALL without exception adore her, and she loves them. I, on the other hand, was totally convinced she was a royal pain in the ass, and couldn't wait to pass her on to the next foster mum....
In my dreams. The little madam, has wormed her way in, and sneaked into the corner of my heart I thought I had shut. She is obnoxious, precocious, pushy, hissy, growly and just generally horrible. And she is staying. She ain't going no-where. Talk about having rocks in my head. I must be mad.
She has been called Pandora because she is like the box of surprises. She has hidden depths I haven't yet discovered. But I like her CATittuide.... and I suppose that's a start......