Tiger came to live with me in May of 1991. I had just lost my beautiful cat, Monkie, and Anthony knew how upset I was, so he picked up this little kitten and named him Tiger. Monkie had been my companion for almost 17 years.
Tiger was so tiny and adorable at two months old. He could hardly climb into the litter box. I didn't know what to feed him, he was so small. Somewhere, I had read that it was okay to give a kitten baby food. If it was healthy enough for a baby, it was healthy enough for a kitten. (Wish I could remember where I had read that bit of info.) I went out and bought jars of baby food, and warmed it before I gave any to this small kitten. He loved it!
Tiger was so cute and adorable, but there was one tiny problem. He was extremely hyperactive. I could not teach him to play nice. He always had to play rough. When I was standing at the sink washing dishes, he would come running and jump on me. He would jump and stick his claws in some part of me that I will not say, and just cling and hang, while I screamed. Everyone thought this was hysterical. Thank goodness, he finally outgrew that.
When we moved in with Anthony and got married, Tiger was thrilled. He loves his Daddy. Tiger loved to play hide and seek with Daddy, but unfortunately, he has outgrown these games. For the first two and a half years, Tiger was very hyperactive, as I said. But then he finally settled down. But now he settled down too much. We can't get him up to play. He used to jump so high and now he just looks at me when I try to get him to exercise with me. Thank goodness, he will run around and play with Thomas.

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