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I named my cat Nim after the creature in the TV series "Surface." How he came into our lives was similar to that story. Back in March of 2006, he was a feral stray that sneaked into our basement to steal our stores of cat food. When I first saw him he was a kitten hiding under a boiler tank. Later on I caught him resting on top a cabinet. When I approached him the first couple of times, he ducked out through openings in the cellar wall. Later on he'd stay and watch me, while his sister stayed on the outside looking in. There was a litter of kittens that resembled Maine Coons or Siberians that lived in a patch of woods near our house. One day I walked up to him as he sat on the cabinet and held out my hand for him to sniff. He reached out with a polydactyl (!) paw and touched my hand instead and stared at me. A connection began. When I finally trapped him I felt guilty but relieved he was safe. I brought him into the house where he immediately hit it off with my other cats. He got along with every cat. He would sit with me, hug me, and stare at me. He loved playing with water, putting his head under running water in the drinking fountain. Even getting out by accident one week around Christmas 2006, he found his way back into the cellar and when I caught him again his joy was evident. He'd been our main cat for these last 7 years, but he just died this past July from kidney lymphoma. This was a shock and his death was tough. He will be sorely missed.