About three years ago, I was packing up stuff from a rental house to move into the house with my mom and sister. I hadn't been to that house in almost a month, since I was already living with my mom, and unknown to me, someone had broken into the back door of the rental house. They stole a few things that I wasn't that attached to, but in the process, they'd left the back door open. So when my mom and I went into the house to pack the stuff up, not only did we find the break-in but when we looked in the open cabinet under the kitchen sink, we found three tiny kittens. They were wild as hares, having never seen a human before.
Their mother was nowhere to be found, so we gathered the kittens up and put them in a box (though not before I got the stew bitten out of me by one of the kittens), and continued with our packing. When we were ready to go, we had no choice but to take the kittens with us. We couldn't leave them in the house, since we were closing it back up, and we couldn't put them out to fend for themselves with no idea where their mother was. So we took the tiny fuzzballs home.
Taming them was an ordeal. The one who tamed earliest, Oliver, turned out to have feline leukemia. probably contracted from his mother. We had to have him euthanized. However, Toby and his sister Sophie were leukemia free, and somehow, we managed to tame them (although with Sophie, I had my doubts it would ever happen).
Now, Sophie is a delightful, quirky little cat, a long-haired tortoiseshell with a sweet disposition. Her brother Toby is a large buff tabby who's a little more stand-offish but lets my niece manhandle and drag him around at will, without ever scratching or biting or even putting up a fuss. Since my sister's digital camera is new (a Christmas present), we haven't gotten a picture of Toby yet, but here's a nice shot of Sophie:
Can you tell I'm sweet on her? :)