So, a little while ago, a very bold stray cat approached my brother at his penthouse apartment. She looked hungry, so he went and brought some tuna out, being rather fond of cats.
She continued to come. Every time she came, he'd give her some tuna.
Finally, he bought a bag of cat food, since he kept running out of tuna. She would come and sit with him on his little porch, even when the food was gone.
Then came the next step:
She ran into his house, jumped on the couch, and peed on it.
He got her a litter box.
Finally, after all this time, he decided that she was his cat.
She lives with him now, quite comfortably. Though she's a bit fat, he doesn't think she'll have kittens -- she's just putting on weight now that she has as much to eat as she wants.
So my brother has a cat again, and now that she's his cat, he has to have a name for her...
Her name is Mr. Kitty.
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