And then there was Manson, feral mother of three kittens who lived under the bicycle shop at my old house in Montpelier (that's two of her three kittens behind her). They showed up in July 2010, lived with me until June 2014 when we sold the house and moved into the suburbs. By this point she and her one remaining son had become quite domesticated, with her sleeping with me at night (until 0500 when she insisted on being let outside). I was worried that she couldn't adapt to the suburbs, so she and her remaining son were given away to a friend who gave them a comfortable life as barn cats.
The part that hurt was later realizing that the suburb I moved into was laid back enough that she would have adapted very easily. She got her name because those green eyes gave her the look of Charles Manson on the cover of the hardbound edition of "Helter Skelter".
And when I said they lived under (and often, in) the bike shop, I wasn't kidding. That's Squeak in the front (unfortunately killed by a car on our road about a month after they went thru TNR). Fluff and Cringe in the middle, Manson at the rear. At this point she wasn't all that keen on coming into the shop. Yet.
