I had just moved into a new apartment, while I studied in nursing school. One early morning on my way to my car with my then boyfriend, a severely skinny little siamese cat came and started rubbing against my leg. He was so friendly and so sweet! Against the advice of my boyfriend (since we already had one cat and a dog), I decided to start feeding him. I instantly adored him, and knew he had found us for a reason. I lived on the second floor, and managed to coax him up the stairs, and into eating in my apartment. He was hesitant, but I think he could tell I just wanted to love on him.
Fast forward four months, and my new baby Wonton and I moved across town into a house with my now fiance. He now enjoys the life of a spoiled housecat and a mama's boy. He loves air conditioning, soft kitty food, and morning snuggles. He has gained four healthy pounds and his purrs practically shake the house. He was recently diagnosed with FIV (which we were told he has probably had since before we had him), which was devastating. But we are determined to give him the best life possible, for as long as he'll be with us. Everyone who meets him falls in love with him, and I feel pretty lucky that he chose us.