Arrival Story: Tupac was one of a group of five bottle babies that I raised for a friend who worked at a pet shop. They had been found by a young couple who had no idea how to raise them and had been trying to give them bowls of cows milk. They looked to be about 3 weeks old except for one that didn't look more than a couple of days old. I said that the little one had to be from another litter, but the couple swore that they found them all together. We called the little one Moses. I wanted him to have a name he could be proud of if and when he went to Heaven. Little Moses lasted about 3 weeks. I spent a lot of time with him, and did the best I could, but it wasn't meant to be. When he died, he was not much bigger than the day he came to me. His siblings were running all over my apartment, and little Moses tried to keep up with them. He would ride around on my husbands shoe, we loved him dearly, he had so much personality, and so much spirit. Moses really wanted to live, and he didn't give up without a fight. We ended up keeping Tupac, and his twin brother Tigger. At nine months old, Tigger became really ill, almost overnight, and was gone within a few weeks. As best we could figure, he died of FIP. Tigger is buried in our memorial garden. Meanwhile, Tupac remains healthy and strong, and he likes to try and bully the other cats. He had two sisters that were adopted out, and we hope they are also doing fine.