Misadventures of Miss and Mouse

It all began with soot, the ten-year-old coal black cat we had loved and nurtured from her infancy.

Soot loved to play hide-and-go-seek in the house, running, chasing, hiding and generally keeping me out of breath and engaged in her daily—and nightly—entertainment. But I was getting older and tireder and increasingly less willing to play the game, at least not as often nor for as long as Soot wanted.

When she began to seem bored and restless, I thought maybe the still-vigorous old cat needed a younger, more energetic playmate. So I began to watch the local newspaper for a kitten. I was convinced that our long-time "only" cat would be more likely to accept a kitten than a possibly more territorial older cat.

But the time was March and the only weaned kitten we could find was a half starved, almost-four-month-old tortoiseshell who shared a crowded basement apartment—and a food dish and litter box—with six or seven equally poor-looking cats and a