I found my Alexander hiding in the engine of my Grandfather's car (luckily he was away visiting my aunt so the car wasn't being driven). I had been planting tulip bulbs when I heard Napoleon (my Tuxedo cat who stayed with my dad when I got married) growling through the screen. I investigated, and heard the engine of the car meowing. My dad crawled underneath and pulled out a dusty, greasy kitten. We knew we couldn't keep it--Napoleon would kill it for sure. Alex stayed in the spare bedroom for almost six months until he was big enough to defend himself. Napoleon hated Alex's guts until the day I got married and took Alex with me. Alex thought his big brother was wonderful, though--wrestling with him, chasing him, talking to him all the time, "pretending" to hunt him...
Nellie was a foster kitty who decided to stay. You can't say no to Nellie. She's too sweet, too loud, and too persistent. Alex was fearful and hostile, but slightly less so than with my previous fosters, so my husband and I thought we'd give it a shot. The two furballs are now best of enemies. They enjoy stalking and chasing each other.

I still can't figure out why Alex was so crazy about Napoleon, but hasn't liked my foster cats who were friendly to him.