Mamacita came to my house when my daughter promised a friend that she would take care of her (pregnant) cat. The friend had gone to New York and left, not only her cat, but a backpack of belongings in the closet in my office. Mamacita promptly shat on it. So I wasn’t too surprised when, upon the friend’s return, said friend picked up her stuff and said she’d be back for the cat. She was going to take her to the Humane Society. She didn’t even have a name.
“Uh, no,” I said. When she gave birth, I started calling her Mamacita. Read more about The Pussycats