I'm almost 50 and have had cats all my life. I'm a total "cat person." I thought that I knew all there is to know about cats. Then I got hoodwinked into adopting this pitiful little tortie. Best thing that ever happened to me!! What a lesson in humility! She owns the house, and I live to serve her! She loves me fiercely -- she even jumped on the one other cat in the world that she tolerates because she thought the other cat was trying to hurt me. But she does hold a grudge. Several months ago, I accidentally stepped on her paw while I was filling her food dish. She put me on her poop-list for weeks! She still runs when she hears me get the container out to fill her dish again. I don't think that a tortie should be someone's first cat. But she was a God-send to me. I needed fierce love and laughter and puzzlement -- and it all came in a little black and orange package. She was a foundling - skinny and burned paws from the pavement of the back road she was found on. She was past pitiful...so I searched for a name for her to grow into. I found it online: Sonsy. It's a Scottish world for buxom and healthy. She's still kinda small, but her tortitude is "sonsy" enough to carry her.