While in Syracuse, I called my sister, who has a house near Cooperstown but has a room in Syracuse as she recently was awarded an orchestral position there. She has adopted two cats from me over the years, so we met at a Wegman's Cafe (hey, it's big and easy to find) and then headed on over to see Sylvie and Harley. I bottleraised Harley, so of course (as the cat who SHOULD have been the tamest) he hid under the bed and refused to be seen. Sylvie was a feral kitten until about 18 weeks of age, and he was lounging in some serious relaxation, and even let me walk over and pet him, until he smelled Rocket and strange houses, and rolled off the bed to hide. Harley was born in a big flowerpot in an Ithaca College greenhouse, and Sylvie was rescued from a mobile home park in Newfield. It appears they've come up a bit in the world since then.