The day after thanksgiving, 1998, my husband & I were on our way to visit his family in Rochester, NY. I was heartsick because I only got a chance to spend a few hours with Jake the day before. My husband had always been a huge cat lover but I had always declared myself a dog lover and I was convinced that everyone was either one or the other. We knew that we could not get a dog with our schedules, we could not bear the thought of a dog being home alone for 10 hours at a stretch. This left us with a cat only option.

My husband was convinced that my tearful departures from Jake would be less dramatic if I had a "baby" at home. He drove me to the Rochester Humane Society Center called Lollipop Farms. I wanted to take home every dog and every cat but of course this was not an option. I saw Lilly in her little cage looking very alone and sad but there was something about her that drew me to her. I inquired about her and found out that she needed to be adopted soon or she was to be put down. THAT was all I needed to hear. I said, "I'll take her!" We paid for her but left her there overnight so we could purchase "Cat Necessities" for her to come live with us. We also made arrangements to take her to the vet immediately after picking her up, she was not too thrilled about that. She was given all of her shots and a clean bill of health.

Lilly arrived home with us on the Sunday after that Thanksgiving. She basically hid under the bed any time my husband came within a five foot radius of her. This broke my husband's heart. She would only come out to eat and use her litter box if my husband was in another room or out of the house. He was afraid she would never warm up to him. She allowed me to pet her and would follow me around if he was not home but I was not allowed to pick her up at all.

Although she did not really let us touch her or play with her, we did receive confirmation that she enjoyed her new home and was willing to protect it. My sister-in-law and her family came to visit a few weeks after Thanksgiving. They brought their Sheltie named Goldie who lived with two cats at his home. We weren't sure how Lily would react but we set up our bedroom to have all of the amenities she would require and planned on keeping her in there while the dog visited - just in case they did not get along. Lily's profile at the shelter mentioned she had previously lived with two dogs so we decided to just see what would happen.

Lilly actually came out from under the bed long enough to see what was going on. She passed by the dog hesitantly and then calmly walked away - UNTIL…

Goldie turned her back to Lilly. It was then that Lilly lunged at Goldie and went berserk. I had never seen anything like that except for the Tasmanian Devil from the cartoons. The dog's fur was flying around the room like a tornado was going through. My husband clapped his hands really loudly and Lilly released her grip on the dog and ran under the bed. I was HORRIFIED and began to look over the dog, who was lying on the floor with a look of "WHAT WAS THAT??!??" on her face. We could find not on single scratch, bite mark, ounce of blood on the dog. We suspect her thick fur kept her from being injured. We learned a very valuable lesson that day - Lilly likes her home and is going to protect it so we need to exercise extreme caution where other animals are concerned. Of course, after that event, we saw even less of her; she hid almost 20 hours a day.

Then it happened. As if she knew it was a very special day, Christmas morning, we awoke to find her in our bed, lying on my husband's legs giving herself a bath. Then she came up and touched his cheek with her little front paw and meowed at him. This was the first peep we had heard out of her, until then, we didn't even know if she could meow.

Now, she and my husband are two peas in a pod. When he arrives home from work, she stops whatever she is doing and runs to the door to greet him. If he is late, she waits on her window seat (she has six of them) that looks out to the garage and keeps an eye out for him to come home. If he goes out of town on business, she sleeps on his pillow.

I think her daily routine gives you insight into Lilly's character, she is a complex little creature.

When our alarms go off in the morning, she jumps onto our bed and gently taps my husband on the cheek or the shoulder with her soft little paw. Then she gets off the bed and waits for him to get up. She follows him to the bathroom and then to the kitchen where his first duty is to feed her. If he strays from this routine in the slightest, she jumps on his foot, wraps her front paws around his leg and bites his ankle.

When she finishes breakfast, she comes in and jumps on my legs to get me up. My job is to play hide and seek with her in the morning while my husband showers. I cannot deviate from this routine or else I face a similar fate of becoming a chew toy.

She sleeps all day while we are at work, usually in the guestroom, on the bed, surrounded by soft throw pillows.

When I arrive home each day, usually before my husband, she runs to the top of the stairs, licks my hand and then goes back to bed.

When my husband arrives home, it's a different story. She runs all the way downstairs to greet him and then runs up the stairs into the living room and rolls onto her back so that my husband can rub her belly while she bites him gently. They play together until I have dinner on the table then they both come and sit at the table. Sounds strange, I know. Our dining room table is actually pushed up against the back of our living room couch - our place is small and this was the best use of space. Lilly sits on the back of the couch but does not touch the dining room table. BUT if we are having grilled chicken or grilled steak, she leans across the table as far as she can without actually touching it. This is when you will occasionally see a small black paw batting at your fork as it goes from the plate to your mouth. Lilly knows that technically she is not on the table - this "not on the table" rule has been established and learned but she stretches the limits.

This rule came into existence after I placed a container of sour cream on the table while I was getting baked potatoes out of the oven. I turned to see her ENTIRE HEAD in the sour cream container. I yelled at her and she looked up at me with this enormous white ring of sour cream around her face, licked her lips and then stuck her head right back in it. I went over to get her down off the table (laughing the whole way) and then she ran away. I was cleaning sour cream up off of the rug, my furniture, my walls, and my cat for about two days.

After dinner, until bedtime, we all must play " hide and seek", "get my belly", and "stalk the toys". It's a family affair, no one is exempt from playtime. I was exhausted a few weeks ago, and asked my husband to entertain her while I played couch potato, lying down watching TV. Next thing I knew, I had been punched in the eye. My eyelid did not close fast enough and I had fur in my eye. OUCH!!