Tom-Tom. This one is so hard to write; there are certain cats that just blow you away...and he did. First of all, he had the tiniest feet. He had a broken jaw and was feral when he came into the clinic. He was absolutely the most freaked out cat you've ever seen. He had survived on dumpster fare and probably been kicked in the head. He was destined for a shelter; the volunteer would come and we would force him into another carrier; then he'd sit in a car for an hour ; get out at the shelter and be restrained to have a Feline Leukemia, FIV test drawn; which I KNEW would be positive...then he would be restained again and stressed out and euthanized. The shelter wouldn't let us do the test prior to relocating him, for financial reasons. I stepped up and said, wait, this is nuts. I'll pay for the test. That way, when it's positive, we can put him down here and spare him all of the extra torture. I was shocked that it was negative. And of course, by that time I was already thinking, no one will EVER adopt a cat like this from a shelter! He will sit in a No Kill shelter for the rest of his LIFE! So, I took him home. I said to myself, there is a good chance that this cat is too fearful to have a good life. If he can't relax after a certain period of time, I'll put him down because it's not RIGHT for an animal to live in such fear. I brought him home and he went under the bed. At night, when we slept, we could hear him creep out...crunch, crunch ,crunch........peeeeeee....scritch scratch scritch...back under the bed. He did this for a week. Then I had to go on a trip, and left him with Ron and the other kitties. The first night I called Ron. He was laying in bed as we talked...he said, "Guess who's on the bed?" I said, "Stinky?" He said "Yes, and who else?" I said, "Geordie?"He said, "YESS, but come ON! Who else is on the bed??" I said, "I don't know!!" He said, "The Tom Cat!" ( he had no name yet). And so, it began. He slept with us every night. For YEARS, he slept ON MY ACTUAL HEAD. He gave the best massages with his little tiny , strong, round feet. I mean, he really pushed hard and would rub my back and shoulders for me. He was in such ecstasy , he would drool. He played "catch me" with me. I would run into another room, and he would FLY at me and leap into my arms, drooling. I would rub him, then put him down and run away. He would FLY at me again and jump into the air, knowing I'd catch him. He would rub me and drool on me. It'd been a few years since I lost him but it is so raw still, as I sit here and remember these things. He was a devastating loss for me. There was just something about him; going though that loss was excruciating. He was eventually put down, due to a confluence of multiple problems common in older kitties.