Cats do have a 'sticky' quality. When I was a student, I arrived in Halifax on the train in pouring rain, and had to walk some twelve blocks to my apartment with all my baggage. On the way, a tiny orange kitten, soaked and dirty and skinny and crying, began to follow me. Couldn't discourage it. Wouldn't go away. Had two cats at home. Didn't know what to do. Just then I passed a house I recognised as belonging to a well off local television personality. I knew she liked cats. As luck would have it, her porch door was open a crack. Aha! thought I, this woman will deal with a kitty! And at that, I stuffed it in the door and ran. Yes I did.

A year later, I moved into a room in a very nice home, other side of town. Very nice people. Lotsa cats. Talking with my very dear landlady about cats one day. That orange one? Got him from TV personality lady. Someone left it in her porch.