More months went by, and he stayed more and more with me, only going out to enjoy the weather when it was nice out, and to do his business. I found out that the neighbors knew he was spending a lot of time with me in my apartment, and didn't really mind. Jeremy had graduated the previous December with the Fall 1999 class, but he hadn't gotten a job yet, and since he lived about an hour north of me, he visited often. Squeeker, a.k.a. "Goober" seemed to like him a lot, even more than he liked me I thought sometimes, and Jeremy liked him as well. He said (and still says) that he is the sweetest cat he's ever met in his life. He was as likely to curl up on Jeremy's lap and purr as he was to curl up on me. And those nights when Jeremy would stay the night (usually only on weekends) he'd play "King of the Hill" and try to balance on both our hips (it was only a twin bed so sleeping was rather cozy, and put our hips close enough for him to do this). He'd usually end up sleeping either next to me or next to Jeremy in the night, curled up tight and sleeping soundly. Occasionally he'd end up sliding down between us, with both of us (especially me) ending up very close to the edges of the bed.

Spring came, and I was about to graduate myself, and move back to St. Louis. I had landed a job with Boeing there, and I knew I was going to be living with my parents for a little while, since they'd told me that if I did get a job there I could live with them until I could buy a better car first. (Mine was a real clunker -- a 1980 Plymouth Horizon with 100,000 miles on it and rusting away.) What to do about Squeeker (I still hadn't really called him that yet)? I felt guilty leaving him, because I was really his main source of attention (and likely would have been even if I had never let him in my apartment), not to mention his main source of protection in bad weather. We'd gotten really attached, and I figured I'd miss him a lot. I really wanted to take him with me, especially knowing that his owners never really had seemed interested in paying him much attention.

I found out that the reason they even still had him was sad, but also doing him no good. Mother and daughter had moved in just recently, presumably from a house or apartment they and the father had lived in before. He died about a year before that (or was it two?) and of course they missed him, but he'd been gone long enough that she was dating again (nothing she said, but there was a particular guy in her life who visited a lot). They'd gotten a kitten some time before that, and because they'd kept it outside it got run over by the man's truck as he backed down the driveway, not seeing the kitten, and the kitten not knowing to take care. The daughter was absolutely heartbroken (I am too, not to mention angry!). Some time later, he found Squeeker as a kitten on a farm and took him home for her. Being part siamese, the mother was a bit leery as she'd had a "bad experience" with a siamese in the past. Even then it must have beenclear that he wasn't all siamese (he's got darker cream stripes in the cream color on his forehead, and he's got the round shape of a tabby, rather than the long slender look of a siamese), and the little girl had asked her "Mommy can we keep it? It's only part siamese..." She relented, and that's how they had Squeeker, only the little girl (I guess) named him Mittens.

It turns out that Squeeker did get to spend some time as an indoor kitty. I'm guessing the mother was referring to after they moved to the current house. When they first moved, they kept him inside so he could adjust to his new surroundings, so he was inside for a while. But then, they got a hamster (which, I would think, spends all its time in a cage anyway) and he had to go back to being an outside-only cat (maybe Squeeker taunted it by constantly being at the cage, and they were afraid it would have a heart attack, but I still think this is a stupid reason). I've had a lot of anger at them (well, not the little girl, because it's not really her fault he was an outside kitty) because of this. It was because he was outside only, and obviously hadn't had a vaccination

Well, the little girl was always busy with her bike and/or her friends, and didn't usually bother to spend time just sitting and playing with or petting him, and her only real sentimental attachment to him was the fact that her father had given him to her: he was a connection to him, but she didn't feel that deep connection that all long-time pet owners feel. With all that, and the fact that he was infested with fleas (even before I met him -- I got him on Advantage after a few months) which indicated they didn't care to bother with his health much, made me want even more to take him with me when I left. In talking with my mother, she actually agreed with me. More surprising, was my grandmother also agreed! They both told me that I should just whisk him away without a word, that they didn't deserve to even know what happened to them (although I'm sure the mother would've guessed immediately). I figured that if my own grandmother, who is very morally upstanding and has never advocated theft or other even mildly "nefarious" deeds, was urging me to do this, then it must've been the best thing to do.