It was April 20, 2004. It was raining outside and I was recovering from some sort of crud. I had moved in with a roommate a couple of months earlier and was still working out the whole "living in a space with another person" thing, which I wasn't particularly good at. My significant other of the time had "gifted" me with a few extra cats. I already had my cat (Harvey, Voted World's Best Cat 15 years running at that point, by a jury of his owner), but there was now Tigger and ${INSERT_OTHER_CAT_NAME}. They were fine, but they weren't mine and Harvey wasn't a fan. He rightfully noted that we didn't need a second or third cat.
Anyway, like I said, it was raining outside. Higgins, my roommate, heard a noise at the door. He opened it and a skinny little black cat ran inside. She immediately bolted to the basement (because of course she did) and ultimately found the cat food there.
She was thin to the point of emaciation. I had seen a group of feral kittens outside on the street a time or two, and