In 1993, unable to have a dog where we lived, I bought a calico Manx kitten. About a month later, we bought out first house, and the three of us moved. She was a happy kitty, with this new big place to explore (which included climbing on top of the kitchen cabinets, no telling how she did that) and adapted well. A couple of years later we got our dog, a much loved Scottish Terrier that died of cancer three years ago. Our cat remained.
Then an orange tabby showed up, living in the rose garden...and stayed, now lives in the garage. We got another Scottie, and the three of them get along well.
Two months ago, a little black and white kitten started living on our porch. The other strays in our area always run away, but not this one. We finally took him to the vet, who declared him fit except for some fleas, which we are treating.
A couple of weeks ago, we learned that our Manx has cancer. The vet says she has maybe six months if we continue the treatment we started...she is 171/2 now. That's about 80 in human terms
Then Friday a little black kitten showed up on the porch, totally loving and virtually saying "I'm home"...except we took him to the shelter, only to relent and plead to get him back.
So for now I have 4 cats and our dog. Funny how animals pick a place to live...guess i am a cat person now.