He's missing a couple body parts but is firmly addicted to being near me. I was in hospital a year or so ago for a week. Wifey can by the apartment to feed him and texted a short video of him sitting on the floor, not touching his kibble, and crying for me. The duty nurse came running to me when some alarm at her desk went off. My doctor and the nurses had stern words for me when I told them why I was going to leave. Doctor, nurses, family here in Canada, and family in the States all urged me to stay to prevent my death.

I stayed. But that cry haunts me to this day. He's just a cat... but to me, he's part of me just as I am part of him.

Am I a cat person? You're damn right!