We had just gotten a new car and were out driving around on a hot summer day in July 2001. We were driving by a convenience store (at 45mph) when I looked in the parking lot and saw a cat under a truck. I said "Wow, there's a cat under the truck in that parking lot!"
R asked "How did you see that? Do you want to go back?" I said "no" then "Maybe." So he turned around and we headed back. I expected that the cat would run from me, but instead she came to me. She was very affectionate and VERY dirty.
I went in the store and asked about the cat, but the store owner didn't know anything. She came into the car willingly but then cried so mournfully the whole way home. We brought her in and isloated her from the other cats. She was very hungry and very dirty. I combed and combed her to try to get the mats out of her fur as well as the burrs.
The next day we noticed she was limping, and I took her to the vet. Both the vet and I were disgusted to find that someone had declawed her AND dumped her. It turned out she had a bite on her leg and needed antibiotic. I couldn't stand the thought of taking her to even a no-kill shelter while she was not fully healthy so I started giving her the meds. After 10 days of antibiotic we had fully bonded and her tests indicated she was healthy.
She started out living in our bedroom closet. She was super shy and played, and enjoyed some petting but didn't want to socialize much. Then in September, R had neck surgery. He was home from work sleeping and recovering. Somehow Kyra knew he needed company, and she came out of the closet and snuggled with him.
Soon she became a bit more confident, snuggling with us while we slept. When we had a smaller bed, she would share my pillow, and when we had a bigger bed, she had her own spot between our pillows. She loved us both, was fiercely independent, and R was definitely HER person.
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