We adopted KitKat from your kitten room in March 2006. From the moment that he saw my husband, he got excited, kneading his blanket and meowing. No, he was not a “short haired American” breed as the sign said. As he grew, his bottle brush tail, long fluffy fur, inquisitive behaviour and the way he flopped when picked up said that he was at least partly Ragdoll. At first we allowed him to wander but he was just too good a hunter so we had to restrict him to the house, but he adapted. No wonder, he was bright and talkative and immediately sensed what was required of him. He never, ever failed to use his litter box and knew that he could only sharpen his claws on his own scratching post. No shredded couches in KitKat’s house! He immediately understood what was his and what wasn’t and politely respected the limits. He never stole people food although he was allowed on the counter to sit at the window. He grew to be the most handsome cat I’ve even known and his intelligence matched his beauty. Saddle thrombosis stole him from us and our happy life together. We so miss our sweet furry friend!
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