My cat Bonnie:
She was an example of a cat choosing its owner, not vice versa. She was originally adopted from an animal shelter by a family in our neighbourhood. But she chose to be
our cat. One day she sat at the entrance of the house, I crawled her and spoke with her and when my husband opened the door she went in and upstairs with us like she had never done anything else. At first she came for visits every few days, but it didn't take long and she came every day, stayed longer and longer, we began to buy cat-food and finally I bought a cat litter pan so she could stay overnight or when we left the house.
Around that time, I finally came to know who's cat she was. I phoned her owners, the woman came over to have a look at her, but wasn't even sure if it was her cat
!.
Jeez, I would have easily recognized her among 100 black cats.
Long story short, it didn't take long and she was our cat, although her former owners still had the papers for her and therefore were the legal owners. Then one day she had a bad accident, she was hit by a car and was severely injured. She had to undergo surgery and needed much care for weeks. During that time her former owners finally gave me the papers for her, so she was legally ours.
We had her for nine wonderful years. She had the loudest purr I ever heard from a cat and she purred often. It was like she had a little motor build in
She died of cancer when she was about eleven years old.
Oh, and she wasn't a
she, but a
he. It was a tomcat, but we gave her a female name and always referred to her as
she.