Why is there a persistent myth that "cats can take care of themselves?"
The chain of events is thus: Person A has a kitten but doesn't want it. She takes it to Person B (her mother-in-law) who also doesn't want it, so she's just going to turn it loose on campus. Fortunately, before the release, she shows it to Person C, who rescues her from said release (Bless you, Kathy!) who then calls Person D (aka Bob).
We might have been able to resist if she hadn't described her as "black with some gold blotches." A tortoiseshell. We both love torties--they tend to have very "well-defined" personalities. We were doomed before we ever met her--and totally doomed when we did. She'sa friendly little fuzzball, maybe 5 weeks old, with a funny little blotchy face. Her name is RiverSong (which will be recognized by Dr. Who fans)
It can be tricky to introduce a new cat into an established household (we do have 4 other cats), so we bought a kitty condo. When we're not around, she's safe in there and everyone can get acquainted.
It's been a long time since we had a tiny kitten around (Fiona, who is now 14). Pookha was about 2 months old when she show up on our doorstep, and Apache and Nazgul were both adults. In a short time she will enter the stage of being A Nuisance and A Bother, but at the moment there's nothing she does that isn't completely adorable.