My cat, Mocha, is the sweetest, most loving kitty in the entire world! She's a short hair brown tabby that I got from my cousin's grandmother after one of her farm cats had kittens. I had previously chosen a kitty out from the litter, but when I went back a while later when they were ready to be given away, that kitty ran away from me. Actually, all the kitties in the litter ran away from me. All the big kitties love me, though, because they know me better. I was sitting on the lawn mower in the garage where the kittens were, petting Dixie, the old gray tom cat who hated guys and loved girls, when a little fuzzball walked up beside the mower and meowed at me. The only kitten who came to me, and i picked the little runt of the litter up, and i knew she was mine. She hates: to be held, to be brushed, trucks. She loves: me, to be petted by me, to cuddle with me, to lay in my lap, to fall asleep on my chest, back, side, head, and in my arms, to be scratched behind the ears, under the chin, and on her cheeks by me, and she loves loves loves when i sing to her. Her name is Mocha because her nose is a mocha color, and though she is covered in many different shades of brown, the mocha color of her nose is unlike any other color on her body. She comes to me when i call her name, and I swear she thinks that she and I can speak the same language, and sometime, I believe it too! I have a connection with cats in general, but not like the connection that this kitten and I share. She's five years old now, and she still acts like she's only a few months old. Except when she play-fights with my bigger (fatter) chartreuse cat names Smokey. She kicks his butt every time. Talk about girl power!!!