We adopted Wendy six years ago today. On that day, unbeknownst to me, I became Evil Mommy. (And let's not forget that other surprise she brought with her: ringworm. Compared to what we're going through now, that little nightmare was a walk in the park. But those were some crazy months.)
Here she is, giving me the stink eye when I congratulated her this afternoon:
Look at her fuzzy little feet. They have polka dots on the bottoms, too. My husband gets to pet her every day. He can play with her feet, and rub her belly, and stroke her chin...but only at designated "safe" times when he's either in bed or sitting in his leather chair. He pulls over a bentwood chair and she settles in and purrs raucously as he strokes her. If I get too close or even if I say anything, she's gone.
In the past year I have been given the privilege of being able to rotate her food dish as she eats her supper, to make it easier for her to get every morsel. If I try to touch her with so much as a finger after doing this, she flies.
Sigh. I still love you, Wendybird.