Hi Margaret, NBDnot to be outdone by you:
I had a cat, called Antonella, my husband's favourite, outlived him and I tried to stay in the old house because I know cats don't like moves - but house and memories got too much for me - sold it - took catty with me who from then on never left my side.
Ant (she was also a small cat, so 'Ant' she became) survived the move but became very attached to me; If I was inside, she was inside, if I was in the garden she was on the lookout for me. In the old house I had an old grandfather chair next to where the speakers from my B.& O. were booming down, if it was Mozart, she would sit on top of the chair - I am sure she was listening, but only Mozart. She also had a not so delightful habit of 'waking' me, when still wanting to sleep, she'd stand on my chest and one paw with the middle claw outstretched would insert itself into my nose - I had a small hole for years in my nose, only visible to me, of course
She got to be just short of 23 years old.
I have also had dogs and love dogs, too. Wrote a poem for my last dog, which I had to have euthanized, because she had a skin condition which simply got worse over the years, operations for which cost me the equivalent of 3 overseas airfares . . . . but I made her last day so beautiful she didn't know a thing, but I cried buckets, both before and afterwards - Charlie only got to be 12, but I had her for 7 years, long enough to form an attachment.
Well she deserves a photo, too, don't you think?
Taurisk
