No, it wasn't an intentional upchuck... it just felt that way yesterday when I was getting ready to leave with the kids and OOPS, THERE IT IS!
I never used to like cats until I met husband. When we first got married, he was feeding every feral cat in the neighborhood. One of them had kittens in the utility closet outside our condo. Just two kitties, which we decided to keep for our own (Fred and Barney). We couldn't catch her at first, then she got prego again and had a litter of four. We managed to catch her and got her spayed, then found homes for the babies.
We had Fred and Barney for a while. Barney got out when we moved to this house and spent a week roaming the hillsides. We found him with cactus thorns in his nose, but he escaped again a few days later and we assume he became coyote food since we never saw him again. Fred was with us about six more years before he slipped out the door after a surgery and went to play with the coyotes.
We were catless for about seven more years (too busy having difficult child's). Then we decided to adopt a kitten from the pound. That was Whiskers -- a lazy brown tabby. He was sick and nearly feral when we got him. He's still a little neurotic today. Two years later a friend was looking for a home for her 4-month old cat who didn't fit in with their other pets, so we brought him home. That's Harley. He looks blue Russian but he's got tabby in there too 'cuz you can see ghost stripes.
Anyhow, I love my cats. They sleep with husband and I (their favorite humans). Some days I wish we had a dog, too, but I'm allergic to most
Plus we don't have a fenced yard.