My wife volunteers for a no-kill cat shelter. One night a literal basket of kittens was found on their doorstep. The shelter was already well over capacity, s

My wife volunteers for a no-kill cat shelter. One night a literal basket of kittens was found on their doorstep. The shelter was already well over capacity, so we became foster "parents" for them. The runt of the litter (whom the shelter had named "Chrome") was terrified and cried constantly. After a week or two, she bonded with my wife, and would cry whenever she was not around, and wanted nothing to do with me. I recall one time when she escaped their play-pen when I was home alone, and clawed the skin off my hand when I had to pick her up and put her back, hissing and crying. After a month or two, space in the shelter opened up. All her siblings were quickly adopted, but her fearful, shy nature meant she was left behind. So she became our first "foster fail" and we adopted her. She now likes me just fine (though still not as much as my wife). What I love about her is that she's the perfect work companion. She likes to sit next to me on the couch when I'm working, and puts her paws and/or head in the crook of my arm (unlike our other cat, who seems jealous of my laptop and does his best to prevent me from working).