Eleven years ago today I rescued him from a rescue cage he shared with a larger cat at an exotic creatures store. I had held this tiny creature of 9 ounces and 6 weeks and when I put him back, he started climbing to the top of the crate, caterwauling, "Get me out of here!" I took him home and bathed him, etc. The rest is another story. 9It was a Saturday evening too, when I got him.)
He was named Punk at first, but I went positive and started calling him Spunky.
He's my heart kitty, the most intelligent cat I've ever met, and we do have a bond. He's sitting with me now, reminding me that I have to feed him yet again in order to have peace.
So wish him a Happy Gotcha Day and I hope he is with me at least another 11 years.