OK it’s not really her birthday, but it is the seventh anniversary of the day I brought her home, and at the time my vet estimated she was about a year old. So I think she is eight years old.
Miss Chloe was abandoned by her first owner (moron!) and the rescue organization placed her with a foster family to see if she had any issues. Apparently she was deathly timid about everyone and everything, and hated other cats with the white-hot passion of 10,000 suns. She so hated other cats that the foster mother made sure I had no other pets in the home.
I met her at an adoption clinic at Petsmart or Petco, one of those two places, and the tag on her cage said “very shy, won’t approach you, ask for help.” Being the kitty lover that I am, I put a finger in her cage and she came right to me and rubbed on my hand. When taken out of the cage, she completely snuggled up to me and purred like a maniac. So much for deathly timid with me! I’ve come to realize that she doesn’t actually like to be picked up—although she will camp on my lap for hours at a time, and in fact is doing so as I type this entry—so her behavior that day was completely out of character for her. I like to flatter myself that she did it because she was picking me to be her human.
She's come a long way in her attitude toward other cats. She tolerated Sammie, our kitty who died of FIP in 2007, mostly by ignoring him. Eddie and Wally are not to be ignored, as you might imagine, and although I haven't yet seen a true kitty pile with her involved, she does play and scamper with them. She also never hesitates to kick their kitty butts when they pester her too much.
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