When I was 18 I adopted a tiny tiny kitten... very much against the wishes of my roommates. From the beginning Fricky was trouble, she bit, scratched, mewed, and tried to eat, everything! But man was she cute! I think it was, and still is, her main form of survival mechanism. She caused her share of relationship problems due to her antics, even caused a house fire (in hindsight I think she was wrongfully accused! :) )... but I loved her anyhow. I still do! And when I met Jeremy he loved her too, the way that I do, in spite of her obvious personality issues... which made me only love him even more. Because, basically, my cat is kind of an asshole... A really cute, affectionate Dr. Fricky & Mrs. Hyde. She is either a doll or a devil. She does have her charms though, if you are sick or upset she will sit with you and watch over you very quietly until you stop. She is very sweet and really just wants to hang out with us all of the time. And she is a pretty lady. Fricktoria turns 14 today! I can see signs of her aging now, she has arthritis, she sort of squeaks when you pick her up... but she still runs laps around the house in the middle of the night, climbs on our shoulders, plays with her superball, and begs to go outside. I love this cat, she has been one of my best friends these 14 years.
