Our own Buddha's former clingy attachment to me has been documented elsewhere; while he's chilled out a bit on that score, he does still have a tendency to want to sit in my lap when he's not busy doing something else. But hey, he's our cat, that's to be expected.
laurie_robey's mom's cat Missy, on the other hand, grew up in the wild, is skittish, and dislikes strangers -- except for Laurie and myself, particularly me. Missy, who would not come out of hiding to meet Laurie's brother for months, came around to see Laurie and me shortly after we arrived on our first visit. This past visit, Missy repeatedly abandoned Laurie's mom's lap (her usual favorite perch) to come meow at me until I would skritch her ears and neck. She'd then wander off for two or three minutes, but then come back and start meowing again.
Finally, last night, we encountered Sally, a smallish black cat who popped up in the neighborhood last night and stood around mewing pitifully. She had a collar with an address that was just a few blocks away, but across the very busy Van Buren St. Laurie and I made the appropriate "Kitty, kitty, kitty?" noises and Sally came streaking over to me like a little black bolt of lightning, demanding scritches and general paying-of-attention. She was happy to be ministered by Laurie as well, but like Missy before her, seemed unusually receptive to me.
We ended up wrapping Sally in a towel and carrying her back across Van Buren, where we were greeted by the son of her hyoomans. Apparently they were out of town, and so the son was periodically coming over to feed her, and she was restless without company. I just hope she doesn't keep coming back over, nice kitty tho she may be -- I don't want her risking Van Buren, especially in the dark.
So I'm starting to wonder what is this strange power I have over cats.