When Mama Kitty came to me, she had been a young girl's pet, and was very tame. At first I didn't encourage her, since she came with a passel of kittens. But she so impressed me with her good manners and mouse-killing that I let her stay. I didn't pet her for a long time because I didn't want her to be one of those cats always under foot. Knowing her as I do now, I realize she would never have been that kind of pussycat.
Back then, Cliff and I went for walks in the pasture, and Mama Kitty never failed to follow along the whole distance. The longer I knew her, the more I liked her. I even went so far as to pet her once in awhile and occasionally pick her up, although by that time she wasn't really comfortable with being held.
When Cora started crawling and we went outside, Mama Kitty was usually not far away from us. Cora was fascinated, and would crawl after that cat fast as greased lightning. Then she started walking (running) and was always in hot pursuit of Mama Kitty.
The old cat has made a game of it: She will stroll up within four or five feet of Cora, plop down, and roll this way and that way as though she doesn't even see the kid. Cora, of course, will head after her; the cat lets her get within 18 inches and then zoom, she's gone.