I remember I had a cat that died when I was three. She kept coming to my parents’ house to beg for food. they ended up adopting her, and creatively named her “Kitty” or sometimes “White Kitty”. She didn’t like me because I would yank her tail. I stopped after she had gotten fed up with that and scratched me. we never bothered each other again and got along pretty well after that. she died before my brother was born, and for that I consider her lucky.