She is older now. Her black fur has faded in places, revealing its underlying red. She has a few notches in her ears that she didn't have four years ago. Her trust is not so simple as it was, and not so surrounding as before.
But trust of a kind is still there, if changed, and her sweetness remains unbittered, and her inclination to show her secret places in the hedges to people she trusts has not changed.
She is White Socks. She is Bothy Cat.
(I'll let Mojo himself explain the "Mojo" in the title of this post... if he wishes.)