Sugar was born on January 3, 1991. She was the 2nd or 3rd in a litter of six. Her sister, Coizmic, was born 5 minutes after she was, and was adopted by my sister the same time I adopted Sugar. Both Sugar and Coizmic were given to us by a friend of my mom's whose cats had kittens. The day after the kittens were born, my sister and I got to choose which kittens we wanted. My sister chose the kitten who was the most active; I chose the kitten who was the calmest. I got to hold Sugar that day, and while she was in my hand (she was so tiny!), she started purring. We got to take them home about 4 months later.
We already had a cat in our family named Oatmeal, who at the time was 5 years old. Oatmeal was not happy about Sugar joining our family and taking me away from him. He'd attack her whenever he could, and just did everything he could to make her miserable. In time, when she got bigger, they got along better, but they were never friendly. In fact, the older Sugar got, the more she resented Oatmeal, as well. Sugar and Coizmic also didn't get along very well. Coizmic was a bit of a bully, and Sugar's easily intimidated. In time, that got a bit better, too, but they've never been happy being around each other.
Sugar grew up from a mostly white kitten to develop her Siamese markings. (Unfortunately, I don't have pictures of that process... I was only 9 years old at the time.) She's always been a bit on the small size: she's never weighed more than 9 lbs. in her life, and has never been underweight. For the first few years of her life, she was an outdoor/indoor cat. She preferred being inside, but my mom is allergic to cats, so they stayed outside as often as possible. As time progressed, Oatmeal began to lose weight. At one point, in November of 1996, he would not eat much of anything if Sugar was around. The cats at the time were outside all day and only let in during the night. That night, I made a decision I'd regret for the rest of my life.
I decided that I'd leave Sugar outside all night so that Oatmeal would eat more. But when I went to bring her inside the next morning, she wasn't there. I figured she'd just gotten lost and would be back soon, or that we'd track her down. (When she was about 4 years old, she climbed over the fence in our backyard... and couldn't find her way home. She was gone for a week, and we eventually got a call from the people who lived right behind that fence because they'd seen the signs we put up.) But weeks and weeks passed, and by late December, I'd all but given up hope. When I slept at night, I thought I would hear her crying. It was driving me crazy. We put an ad in the local paper about Sugar, and were hopeful when we got a phone call a week later. It turns out this woman hadn't found Sugar, but had a kitten she had to get rid of because the apartment she and her boyfriend were moving into didn't allow pets. This kitten was only 4 months old, and was absolutely adorable. I changed her name from Kissy (ICK!) to Kosette (after the Les Miserables character).
Kosette settled in quite nicely. She and Oatmeal actually got along very well; Oatmeal was happy to have a kitten to play with, and I guess he didn't feel threatened by Kosette. But I never give up hope, so I was still spreading the word about my missing Sugar to everyone I knew. One day, my step grandmother told her nurse about Sugar. Her nurse replied with something like, "Really? My mother-in-law just adopted a Siamese named Sugar from her daughter. Her daughter runs an apartment building, and the tenants abandoned the cat the night before rent was due." So, arrangements were made for me to see this lady and see if her Sugar was my Sugar. When I walked into her house, I called, "Suuuuuuu-gar" (I have a special tone I always use when I'm calling her and want her to come). This Siamese cat sprinted towards me. She was definitely my Sugar. Elated, we took her home that very day, over 4 months after she'd gone missing.
But Sugar wasn't the same. She was behaving very oddly. She'd be sitting in my lap purring when I'd raise my hand to pet her, and she'd jump from my lap, sprint across the room, and hide. In fact, she would hide or wince whenever anyone raised their hand near her. There were times when she'd look at me like she didn't recognize me, and then she'd start attacking me. It would only last a minute, but it was pretty scary. I deduced that the people who stole her from me, on top of abandoning her (she was abandoned for 3 days before the landlady found her), must have hit her. It broke my heart to see her acting like that.
MORE COMING SOON, I PROMISE!