When we saw her for the first time (on Saturday, October 6, 2012) her name was Jenny and she was sharing a room with more than a dozen other cats - all rescued by Special Ones Cat Rescue.
A tiny, long haired, grey cat, with a deformed leg, she had hopped (on three legs) enthusiastically across the room to greet George, nudge him, snuggle with him, and do whatever she could to purr her way into his heart. While I noticed her, I didn't get to know her well as I was focusing on a few other gorgeous cats, including Duchess, a regal tortoiseshell cream Persian, a recent arrival who looked very sad, and Stiletto, a stunning long haired black beauty who seemed very shy.
All of these rescued cats had stories to tell.
When George asked about Jenny, he was told that Special Ones had gone to great lengths to rescue her because her owner was about to discard her - throw her out on the street (in Toronto) which, because of her deformity (which at first seemed like a broken leg but turned out to be a congenital deformity), would have meant certain death. She'd have either died a miserable death or been picked up by Animal Services and quickly euthanized. A grateful, loving little girl, she'd been waiting patiently for a home since March - almost 7 months.
After we got home George and I talked about going back to adopt one of these cats and, while it was tough to choose only one, it proved impossible not to choose Jenny.
 So, we made arrangements to adopt her and returned the following Sunday (October 14) to pick her up. Karen, who runs Special Ones Cat Rescue and had rescued Jenny and all the others, had bathed and groomed her and gotten her ready for her big adoption day. Here are a couple of photos of Karen holding her on that day and saying to Jenny "You see - I told you you'd get a home."
When we brought her home, we had two worries about how she'd adjust to living in our house. 
The first was the reaction of our resident cats.
Topaz, our cuddly, super friendly male greeted her warmly and he and Jenny reached the rubbing noses stage on the first day. Very soon these two became buddies, licking each other, sharing scratching posts, and lying together on our bed.
But Whisky (below), our little tabby female who is not, by nature, particularly friendly, wasn't at all pleased when she first saw the new cat. She hissed, became more distant than usual, refused to come upstairs and generally sulked. But by day 3, she was well past the hissing stage and had clearly started to warm up to Jenny.
 By that time we had renamed Jenny - and her name was officially Sophie, a pretty, feminine name that we thought suited her well and soon the three cats - Sophie, Topaz and Whisky had worked things out - and were enjoying racing around together in play mode.
Our second worry was the stairs in our house. We weren't sure that, with her deformity, she'd be able to master them.
When she first arrived we settled her in her own little room - the library on the second floor where she had her own bed, litter box, and scratching pole with a perch for looking out the window. She liked having her own room, slept well her first night there and was happy to spend her nights in her room - but only if we left the light on for her. During the daytime, she explored the second floor room by room and quickly became relaxed up there, proudly demonstrating her skills at jumping on chairs and, after a few days, jumping up on our bed. But the stairs were clearly a problem for her. She was frightened of them and would sit on the second floor landing studying them; so, in the evenings, we'd carry her down.
At first, seemingly afraid of all the open space on the main floor, she'd just quickly run back up and sit on the 2nd floor landing waiting for us. While she could climb up the stairs with no problems, we had our doubts that she'd ever master coming down them and that she'd have to rely on us to carry her down. But, as she came to enjoy downstairs activities more and more and wanted to be with us and the other cats in the daytime, she started studying the stairs more seriously. We started showing her how to climb just the bottom six steps - the wider, easier last few steps from the first landing. She mastered that, one step at a time, and then practised a few times running down these steps. And, on Sunday morning, exactly one week after she'd moved in, she surprised us by running down the entire staircase from the very top on her own. And she spent that day practising her new skill and, as her confidence grew, the stairs ceased to be an issue.
By the end of her second week in the house, she had discovered the 3rd floor - and, having mastered the concept of stairs, had no difficulty whatever running up and down that (even steeper, uncarpeted) staircase. And she had grown accustomed to treats at cocktail hour, temptations as a bedtime snack, and spending her nights in our bed.
Now Sophie (aka Sophia) is at home with her siblings and us, in her new home.
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