Tiki is my baby. She's 7, with a pretty little feline face and the loveliest eyes. She rules the roost, of course!

I got Tiki when I was 19, and very sick with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome -CFS- (fortunately I am much better now). Mum drove me out to the local RSPCA centre (Royal Society for the Protection of Animals), and she was so tiny and afraid! They said she'd scared some builders on a building site, because she was hissing so fiercely...I can just imagine these huge muscley builders, terrified of a skinny, starving 3 month old kitten...lmao...

She's always been a bit jumpy, although as she has gotten older she's calmed down a lot. The first few nights, she would go to sleep on my neck, then half way through the night I'd wake up and she'd be huddled under the bed, terrified. The poor thing! So you can see why I say she's my baby and why I'm so (over?)protective of her. She didn't even leave my bedroom for two weeks after she came home...

Anyway, now we have a new face here, and Tiki's pretty ok with her now. She tolerates Mishka, who creeps up to sniff her then hisses or growls when Tiki lifts her head to look.