She's our oldest cat, we took her and her littermate The First Otis in when we closed on our first house, in Bellefonte, Pennsylvania, in 1993. Our litter training skills were such that Recluse had to be chased and caught from time to time, to be moved to the litter box. On one such occasion, she snagged one of her front claws in the carpet, and as she fled, the claw held and she flipped herself over.
She has not forgiven me. She never will. She spends her entire day under our bed, with occasional forays to water, litter, or food. Whenever I enter the room, she bolts.
If she had just a few more pounds on her, she'd tear my throat out in my sleep.
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