Thanks!

Smokey (whose originaly name was Stormy) came to us from a former co-worker
who was moving amd couldn't (or just didn't want to) take her with.  She was
about a year old, and not spayed yet (found out when she went into heat) -
but we remedied that after hearing her yeowl all through the night (we think
she's got siamese ancestors, she can yeowl when she wants to).  Since she
was a year old when we got her in 1993, that would make her about 13.
Tennessee we got a year later, in 94 - was born in a co-worker's barn.  He
doesn't bury his poo - so we ask him if he was raised in a barn (he was LOL)
Ivy, who succombed to CRF in Dec 2002, was born in our garage - her mother
was a feral (hubby has a problem remember to close up the garage - had a
possum living in there this spring), and Ivy was captured in a patch of
poison ivy, hence her name - that was later in 1994 (she was about 6 months
younger than Tennessee).  Lizzie, we got from the local shelter, 5 days
after hubby bawled his eyes out over Ivy & excaiming that were weren't going
to get any more pets that wouldn't outlive us - HAH!!!!!  Then Weeble, who's
feral Mama is also Ernie, Mimi, Minnie (adopted out) and Moe's Mama, was
abandoned in one of our basement window wells, along with a sister that
didn't survive.  He was only a day or twold, and I fed him every 3-4 hours
until he could eat on his own.  He's my special kitty.  Ernie, Mimi, Minnie
& Moe came about 6 month's later, after MamaKat shed Weeble's littermates,
but I got them when they were about 4 weeks old.  We originally had all 4 up
for adoption on petfinder - but once Minnie went to her new forever home,
hubby said we're keeping the rest.  Then this past Oct 30, we heard what
sounded like a cat in extreme distress - we checked all of ours were fine.
The windows were opened, so we checked outside (thought a stray/feral got
run over in the street, or maybe a fight between a couple of cats, or a cat
& raccoon or possum), but no critters outside.  Still heard cat yeowls.  We
went down into the dank-n-dusty basement.  Took 2 steps from the bottom of
the stairs, and more meowing, I aimed the flashlight in that direction, and
I see 2 eyes peering from behind the furnace.  All of a sudden, a young
Siamese trots over to us & starts rubbing our ankles.  *sigh*  We carried
him to our endlosed front porch, noted that he was *definately* a he, with
all parts intact.  Got him food and water, fixed up a lotterbox.  Removed a
too-tight flea collar (no tags).  Took a couple pics of him & posted fliers,
and notified the local shelter.  We had *1* caller, who was looking for her
green-eyed tabby cat (not a blue-eyed Siamese).  He is now named Ping, has
been neutered, and the shelter has been notifed that we are keeping him.
All fliers have been removed.  He's *our" King Ping (the ding-a-ling).