Blog to Gen:
I grew up not allowed to have animals, but never wanted a cat.
At 10, the first domesticated cat I petted (gray tabby, but shaggy orangeish), did the "I'm not cool, but I'll let you pet me a couple of times, just long, enough, to get close,
close enough to..."

to pierce my eyeball.

Hey, first time I saw that look. Trust me, now I know.
Never really cared for cats after that.
Until college.

A black and white striped kitten showed up on the doorstep of our apt. with no collar. My roommate was away. I put up posters and knocked on doors, left it outside hoping it would know how to get home. No luck. I fed her and kept the doors open just in case (mine was a typical college apt. the doors were usually open, lived at the beach, owned a keg, you get me.)
After 2 months, I named her Stella after my grandmother. Then she ran away.
Great thing about cats, dogs go to doggy heaven, cats just find better food.
My roommate came back. We decided that since we have all this cat food and the kitten still might come back, we would leave it outside. There were tons of cats roaming the neighborhood if she didn't.
The kitten never came back. However, an older shaggy orangish grey tabby came around everyday. With the open door policy, she decided to start indulging in the free couch space and the involuntary scratching from the numerous baked potatoes.
After a couple of months, I gave it some thought and decided that my roommate could keep her. I told Dena when I got home and she smiled slyly and said that she had already named her.
I asked what?
She said, "Stella."
I never told anyone I had named the other cat.
Nor ever prior mentioned any fondness for the name.
Taken aback, I said that's what I named the kitten! After my grandmother!
She said that was insane, but she named it after the Grateful Dead song.
Not long after, we discovered Stella was pregnant. We were in denial for awhile, but if I'M positive a cat is pregnant. She's pregnant.
Late summer, I was in the bathroom on my day off and Dena at work. Stella came in telling me something was very wrong. Not the type of cat to ask for assistance, there was no doubt. Labor.
ha! I actually grabbed towels. I sat on the floor and called Dena then the neighbors for moral support. It was wild. I didn't know what to do to help her while she writhed in pain in my lap. By then three of my neighbors had ring side seats and occasionally threw out a "Eeeeww" and "Cooool" as I watched Stella do backflips into the wall. The first one was born. All black and did not move for a long time. I was afraid to touch it, but once Stella cleaned him off he began to move. Probably a hard thing to watch if you aren't hoping something won't die. Licking placenta, yeah pretty sick, but I wasn't going to clean him - birds die that way. (old joke, sorry) I wasn't going to grab a newborn kitten, and cats don't use towels, so placenta eating?
okay for cats.

My roommate called and she was on her way home just as the second backflip birth produced another slimy black lump. The neighbors recruited more spectators and suddenly had beer. As they filtered into the tub, I kept fluffing up the towels to cushion the corner and door jam where Stella was taking a break. Suddenly, she wrentched back and howled. It was an awful sound. Pain is a very recognizable sound. She could not even do the reverse wall dismount delivery because she couldn't move. Stella rolled to face the wall and again I was at her station. She screamed and I saw her press the wall, clawing the plastic baseboard runner. Once, twice, growing louder and much more distressed. I had no idea what to do. Gotta give it to the old pros - a hot towel would have given me some business because I was helpless and tripping out because she screamed like she was going to die.
Until I looked down and saw this HUGE black and white striped ass at least three times the size of the other two pointed at my feet. Another lesser yelp, and there she was.
I sighed, turned to the bathtub gallery, and said (verbatum): "Dammit, I now I have a cat."

Stella eventually moved on to better pastures.
No shit, she actually did move across the street of our next place...
because they had better food - and easily justified, better medical benefits and grooming.
She went as she came.
And I have my cat.

Once in class someone said to me, "You must have cats!" I baffled I looked down at my arms to find a massive amount of long red streaks.

Funny, two years later my cat had a second litter (just like the south, everyone I know has an offspring of Stella in Wilmington) and I had one still left to give away. No one had picked her, but I shit you not, looked just like Stella. Same color, same hair, same "Bitch, please!" attitude.
Dena took her. Named after another Grateful Dead song, her behavior was freakyily parallel to Stella, almost the same cat at times.

I say "was" but, rest assured, Althea is currently living in Mayberry, North Carolina and is very pleased with the food.

Cats find us.

And that's very fucking cool.