15 years ago, I was in my parents' backyard (I guess it was my backyard too) mowing the lawn, earning my allowance. Underneath my Dad's work hut, popped out a little black kitten. She looked a bit hungry and I fed her a little milk, which she lapped right up. I had no choice but to keep her, and hesitantly named her Axl. That changed to Cat after I realized "he was a she". And so Cat lived with me most of the time (she stayed with my parents while college -- allergic roommate -- but got her back when I kicked the roommate out) climbing up screens, laying on my chest when I came home from school, begging me to feed her every time I got home, and just providing some great companionship along the way. She has given me some great years and I am happy to pass her along to the next owner. I would love to keep her, but I have a baby coming and do not want to risk the cat interacting with the baby. This was one of the toughest and hardest decisions of my life. She ha