Today I'd like to talk about Kokopelle, who I refer to as "my baby" and is our youngest cat.
It's an interesting story, how he came to me. It starts out with my mom at work. A woman came into the building my mom works in with this kitten in her arms, and said "Will someone please hold this kitty? If someone doesn't hold him he'll get under my car and I'll squash him when I drive away." This feline was, of course, Kokopelle. My mom took charge of the kitten, and even wandered around the local neighborhood to see if he would take off to his home. But he only sat at her feet whenever she put him down, and she didn't see any signs about missing kitties that matched his description.
Mom decided to take him to our vet to see if there was a micro chip in him. (Note: never, ever, drive with a cat lose in your car. She didn't get into an accident, but only because Kokopelle acted up in a street she had all to herself in a quiet neighborhood.) That was when I first met him, because she called me and asked me to meet her in the driveway with a cat carrier. I insisted on going to the vet, of course, because I wanted to see more of this wonderful kitty.
No micro chip was found, and he was taken home until we found out where he belonged. My parents have always been firm believers in keeping new cats separate from the other cats in a household until everyone gets used to the smell and idea of a new cat -- something I was amazed to find that not everyone does -- so the kitty was put in my room, much to my delight.
There are two particular things I remember clearly from that time, aside from having a litter box in my room. One was the first time he was in my lap. He had obviously been someone's pet, because he was starved for affection. He was also extraordinarily trusting, because he was content to lay belly up in my lap, even though I was a stranger. The other thing I remember was when I had to separated from him for about twenty minutes so that I could take a shower. Mom kept him company during that time, but he made it known that he was not happy about my disappearance.
We never found his previous owners, of course, and now I belong to him.
By the way, his name was my mom's idea. Her second idea, actually. Her first was Loki, but after a bit of research (I was unfamiliar with Loki at the time) I vetoed that idea. My own idea had been to name him after a dragon, but I decided I liked Kokopelle better. Well, Kokopelli, actually. Kokopelle is just my nickname for him.