It's hard to believe, but St. John has been with us a full year!
My parents' neighbor saw someone dumping out St. John and his sister and brought them home. They kept Emma and we took St. John.
He was maybe three weeks old, full of parasites (inside and out!) and still needed milk. He was so hyperactive that we had to convert our spare room into a kitty nursery and put him in with the door closed so he would go to sleep.
I was seriously battling my personal demons when we first got him, and his activity and the level of care he required nearly drove me over the edge. I had never had a kitten, and just didn't think I could handle keeping him, didn't think he'd ever grow out of his wildness.
As he matured, and I healed, he has become the most loving--though still active--mama's boy I've ever seen.
I never thought I'd love a cat more than I love our Lizzie, but. .. I'll admit it. St. John has totally stolen my heart. There will be no other cats after him!