Caturday: Taming the Tiger
Tiger asleep on Anemone's wheelchair, one of his favorite spots Tiger really is a tiger, for all practical intents and purposes. An orange tabby, he looks like one. A feral even after 14 years, he behaves as one. Raised as an only child (after his sister died at the too-young age of one), he was the central focus in the life of my disabled adult daughter, Anemone, living independently and alone after the too-early death of her fiancé. That made her Tiger's central focus. They bonded deeply. Tiger followed Anemone everywhere. He would ride around on the arm of her wheelchair, which he, naught boy, would sometimes use as a scratching pad -- the pads had to be replaced from time to time. At times, he even slept there. He would also nestle down on her lap for a long sleep. When she snapped her fingers, he came running. And when anyone came to the door (which was very seldom), he stood guard, tail up and quivering, claws at the ready. And he would spring -- from his...