Meet Kitty

This is Kitty, my beautiful special-needs cat. She has this remarkably original name because she was a stray when I met her begging for food in the garden of my old flat. I didn't want to name her in case she belonged to someone else, but it soon became clear that she was a little urchin cat, and by then 'Kitty' had stuck.

Kitty had most probably been mistreated by her original owners: She flinched whenever anyone came near her, as if she was going to get a kick, it took months for her to trust me enough to let me pick her up or pet her properly and she's still not overly keen on humans.

When I left my old flat I couldn't bear the thought of leaving her to fend for herself again so took her with me as I moved twice in the space of two years. Now she is the epitome of the rags to riches story and lords it around mine and Irish's flat and courtyard like the cat who really did get the cream.


Kitty mainly enjoys attacking soft furnishings, riding rugs on laminate surfaces and being a slave to tuna. She's still very shy, hiding whenever visitors come round, but has recently been exhibiting more 'normal cat' behaviour, perhaps as a result of having reached her rebellious teenage years.

Such behaviour has included presenting me with the thoughtful gift of a small dead bird and scaling a 15-foot wall in order to see what was in next door's garden. Fortunately it wasn't next door's dog, who was inside at the time. We managed to tempt her back over with her opium - tuna - but only after she seemed to forget how she made it through the trellis in the first place and became stuck. It was a very embarrassing and regrettable time for her.


Kitty only really likes me - she has good taste - and I feel very privileged to be her best friend.