Her name is Tabitha, but when I met her she had a tag on her cage that said "No name". The poor little thing had come from the home of a hoarder, who had so many cats that they didn't even have names. She was seven months old, and I could hardly believe such a beautiful little kitty could be staring at me through the bars of a shelter cage.

She's three and a half now, fat and sassy. She knows she's special, and that she is loved.

Tabitha is the second cat I've adopted from the Anti-Cruelty Society in Chi cago.

Her adoptive sister Athena has been with us for about four years. She's a beautiful Tortie whose history is unfortunately unknown to us. I suspect she had been very neglected, though, because it took some time for her to accept attention and affection. But now she comes to us looking for it, and has become a very loving member of our family. Athena and Tabitha get along famously; we make a very loving family, my husband, myself, and our two dear little girls.