When I was about 5 or 6, my kitten Tootsie ran away one night. My mom asked our neighbors to help look for her, and a few days later they brought a “long haired grey cat” to our house thinking it was her. It wasn’t, instead of my female kitten it was a large full-grown male. The stray didn’t have a collar, so we kept him around since we didn’t know who he belonged to. A few weeks later, a woman showed up to reclaim the stray. But we still hadn’t found my kitten, and I’d gotten attached to the bugger. My mom told me that we should give the cat back,even though I wanted to keep him, he wasn’t mine and his owner wanted him back. My mom did the right thing, and even though I cried a little, I understood the cat wasn’t mine and giving him back was the right thing to do. Anyway,the woman had a chat with my mom, and admitted that she had quite a few pets, the cat was sort of her outdoorsy tomcat that went wherever and did what he wanted anyway. She ended up giving the cat to us, since she saw I’d become attached. We never did find Tootsie, so yea I guess it worked out, and the new cat Jingles became a member of our family. The point is that my mother had told me to give the cat back, and even at 5/6 years old, I understood it was the right choice. Had the woman wanted to keep her cat, we would’ve gladly given him back. Wouldn’t have felt right to keep him if she’d begged us to give him back, I would’ve felt guilty as heck even as a kid.