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We baited her with food and I held her all the way home. She snuggled in and I think that was the first time she had ever experienced warmth. I'll never forget how she smelled just like baby powder. Very strange, for I've had many cats and none ever smelled like baby powder.
And to think now she is this vengeful creature at times, especially since the boys left us. They were her best buddies and now she has no one and certainly isn't trying to make friends with the other girls.
Sometimes it's a sad state of affairs with all the cat fights, but I guess she has decided how to live out the rest of her days. So she escapes and hangs out upstairs, which she has declared to be her domain, and how dare the other girls even set foot up there. She’s up there right now using my craft table to design her no trespassing sign, a smirk across her face as she paints the letters with a flourish.
I hope things change, but I doubt they will. She is thirteen now and as they say you can't teach an old dog new tricks. I think that goes for cats and humans too, or any other living thing for that matter.