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While of our cats are rescued cats; they were either rescued from a sanctuary (in Wilma and Betty's case) or a neglectful owner (Alfie's case.) We didn't even intend to have another cat. But Diego was a special case; because we saved him from being on the street, and therefore, a cold, lonely death. It's been almost a year since we first met Diego and he's come a very long way since last year. I'll go through his story briefly because if I went into massive detail, you would be here all night.

My Mother found Diego (and his 'friend' who unfortunately has passed away) hanging around our house under the car. When she went to them, they ran away and she later saw them trying to get the last scraps out of a sardine tin. One evening, she sent me a text, saying she was feeding them. But by the time I got out to the parking bay, they had run off.

Diego's friend never returned, so we believe he passed away. Diego kept coming back for food, possibly because he realised he would survive if he did so; as an animal's survival instinct is very strong. We watched as he scooped food out of the bowl with his paws because he had no idea how to eat out of a bowl. After a while of feeding him, I got pair of pyjamas I didn't wear anymore and put them under the car where he usually hid. My Mum called me into her room where she could see out of her window into the parking bay. To my delight, he was using the pyjamas to sleep on.

He started coming closer to the house; and during the Summer evenings, I would sit outside near where he would sit and I would speak to him. Usually about how my day went but I was still speaking to him. I would do it until he left for the night. I eventually managed to start stroking him. Before he let me start stroking him, he would duck his back down so it was harder for me to stroke him. After I managed to stroke him; one Summer afternoon, I was sitting on the steps in the back garden. He came and sat down next to me. I patted my lap. He didn't get it at first. He walked over my lap and sniffed at something on the other side of me. I patted my lap again and he sat down on my lap.

To cut a long story shorter, he moved into our house around November, where he had him neutered, his rotten teeth removed, his fleas sorted out, and his ear rashes sorted out. He had a panic attack when he got him from the vet. But he recovered over the course of the day. My Mother was worrying about him not being in the house during the Winter and dying as a result of the bad weather. I had taught him how to use the cat flap so he no longer feared being trapped in the house. He experienced his first Christmas with us and we also found that he was actually 8 years old and not a kitten as we all thought he was. So after 8 years of nothing, he has finally found a loving family.

It's been a year since we met him and he appears to be a fully domesticated cat. He seems to have a deep attachment to me. He will follow me around the house constantly. He will also wait outside the bathroom while I take my morning shower. He also waits in my room while I put my make up on. He sleeps on my bed whether I'm also sleeping in it or not. My mother says it's because of all the time I spent with him while he was still out on the street. He is now a very happy, sociable, and healthy cat and I'm very happy we saved him. He is a wonderful addition to the family.
 

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What a wonderful story!
 
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