The black, 3-legged young cat was brought into Animal Control.  No one
noticed she'd been nursing because ferals are left alone to calm down,
and then dealt with one by one.  Well, not all the cats the man
brought in turned out to be wild-or strays, but it was several days
before they realized the 3-legged one was actually quite gentle-and
nursing.  They went to where the man said he trapped them but were
unable to find any kittens that might still be alive.

She had milk though, and AC had it's share of kittens, including some
whose mothers wern't producing well, so they tried her out as a
surrogut.  In 7th heaven!  She took every kitten  they offered...loved
them...fed them...washed their little butts.  She was such a good
mommy!  AC gave her all the petting and food and warmth she could
absorb, but they knew she needed a special home.

That's when I came along.  I lost my beautiful Calvin 3 yrs ago, and
my Punkin-kitty last year-I finally felt like it was time to bring a
new kitty home.  My dh wanted a kitten, but this was my call and I
have a leaning toward critters who have problems/disabilities.  (If I
ever get to go to volunteer at Best Friends I want Benton's House)
So, I saw her there...and went back the next day...and a couple days
later.  We clicked in a way, although most of her attention was on her
charges.  It was weeks yet before she got to come home...they really
hated to see her go because of her kitten-rearing abilities.

I forget what they called her.  I had to wait and see her personality,
and that took some time as she spent the first week behind the dryer.
Loki, with his penchant for high-pitched yapping and constant erratic
motion, intimidated her terribly.  I finally closed off the upstairs
so she was forced to stay...reachable.  She soon learned anyone in the
recliner was a sure lap and petting.  She took to my dh, and vice
versa...he called her Tripod.  She filled out and her coat grew shiney
and thick like a pelt, black with brown undertones.  Large, pale green
eyes and full features.  A big, gravely voice.  The leg?  The vet says
some kind of accident not that long ago.  A trap?  How that must have
hurt her.  She has healed well, but the end gets sore sometimes when
she is playing or jumping around and bangs it.  I wonder if she has
"phantom pain" like people do?  I decided to call her Gracie.

These days Gracie goes right up to loud-mouth Loki and puts him in his
place with a long, rusty harangue that sounds like nails on a
chalkboard.  His ears go down flat, his chin drops, and he looks
everywhere but at her.  He always looks so relieved to get away
after.LOL

So...this is my new girl...I thought it was about time I introduced
her.

PatM