When I had my first hospital job, Matron (yes the old fashioned all powerful one-and-only matron, not the ones they have now) had a cat that used to sprawl on the floor outside her office. It was the biggest cat I've ever seen, grossly overweight, but nobody dared complain
My first ever cat came from that hospital. She was a feral kitten, not fully weaned, and her mother had been caught and killed by a trap in the cellar that was supposedly intended for rats
She was so small I could sit her on my palm and still see the edges of my hand but was she fierce - I have to admit I was scared of her that first night. She was absolutely full of fleas and every night I would sit combing her because none of the flea products could be used on such a young kitten. You wouldn't believe the size of the piles of eggs I got off her. Later I fumigated the house and nearly suffocated my mum in the process. Wuzzy lived to be nearly 17 and although she was fine with us she never lost her feral instincts. The vet who spayed her gave me a lesson in how to take stitches out so I wouldn't have to take her back
