One of my most vivid memories is when we got our kitten. It was the morning of Halloween, when my brothers girlfriend rushed me outside. The kitten popped her tiny black head through the fence on our porch, with gleaming yellow eyes and a scared face. I walked out to meet her, and to calm her down. I placed food in front of her and urged her near me. It took convincing, but she warmed up to me. She allowed me to pet her, and I picked her up and rushed her inside. She took an immediate liking to a pile of blankets, her fur was so dark you could only see her eyes peering out of the big pile of fluffy blankets. Then came the time of convincing our mother to let us keep her. She didn’t want to, but with the power of our puppy dog eyes, and the kittens eyes barely visible, she agreed. We figured if we get to keep it, we have to name if; we can’t just call her “blackie” forever. I wanted to name it Eve, and my brother wanted to name it “Halloween” after the day we got her, so we settled on “Halloween’s Eve”, or just “Eve” for short. She seemed to like it, and anytime we said it her tiny bat-like ears would perk up. It was hard getting used to going to bed in the dark and having a little black blob slip between your feet, and looking down the stairs to see her bright eyes staring at you, but she learned that shes not exactly the most visible thing to see in the dark, and we learned that she might take some getting used to.