Nana's the one in front.Nana showed up at our door (which was then in Champaign, Illinois) on the night of my birthday in 1994. She was skinny and extremely shy and yet managed to exhibit the deep need for affection that is one of her most notable markings. She had been mistreated and then dumped by her previous owners, who will be appearing in Hell sometime in the near future: Nana is sooo sweet and well-behaved that it's hard to imagine someone throwing her out. It must have been the classic case of college students going home for the summer and not caring what happened to the cat. She has a soft, breathy purr that is heard mainly when she's picked up and cooed at--which happens often. She sheds more than any cat I've ever encountered, despite a coat of short, soft fur. She has a paradoxical nature: she's both expressionless and utterly transparent. She loves to be petted. (Don't we all?) For such a big fatso, she also can go amazingly spazzy. She taught the other cats that the top of the stereo receiver is a warm place to sleep; none of them has mastered her trick of sleeping on top of the picture tube.
