I have a new cat. A female tabby. She's about two. A rescue courtesy of PBC. [That's Palm Beach County to those of you not in a elephants' graveyard for Jews.]

She cost $3, was spayed, and came with an embedded micro-chip, a collar [which she tore off long, long ago], a bag of Hill's diet food and a voucher for a vet visit.

She was found at 3 weeks old in a field and was fostered until she was 7 months old. She is scared of EVERYTHING. She believes if she hides under the covers, that she is safe and no one can see her.

She doesn't like men. She mostly keeps her distance from me. But, she likes when I play fight with her. And, she stalks me and executes guerrilla raids against my legs with lightning speed.

If I stand in a particular spot of the house, she will come out and let me pet her 3 or 4 times. But, only in this spot and only 3 or 4 times.

She is a tease and a flirt. She will spot me. Lay down on her side or her back to show her belly and then dart away when I approach.

She has no interest whatsoever in any food but dry food. No can food. No human food. And, no treats. She loves toys and likes to hoard them in areas she has claimed as her own. When she is particularly playful she will leave a toy out in the middle of the room as act all surprised when I toss it and grab it, WarMachine it like it was Christy Mack and return it to the collection.

She is a food whore. Before, during and after feedings, petting is tolerated. But, otherwise only in that special place.

Once she's had enough of my petting. Or if I pet her and then fail to feed her, she hisses, swats and heads to her territory.

All of this is much as I imagine it would be if I had dated Cherish or Cali Marie. Only, in those cases, with many, many litters of unwanted kittens.