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When one of my cats was younger and a lot fatter, he came bowling in from the garden with an almighty crash. Looking slightly stunned, he'd arrived into the kitchen having ripped the cat flap from the door and was still wearing it as a cat-tutu. Did I mention he was quite fat?

In honour of Jake, a well loved cat, who died on Wednesday, tell us your pet stories and cheer us up.

(, Fri 8 Jun 2007, 9:15)
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Pippin
A medium sized white cat with a few brown and black spots on her.

I'd say that I've owned her for about five years but if another cat questioned her she'd say that she owns me.

Over the last five years I've gone through divorce, bankruptcy, job loss, depression, a recurrence of alcoholism and plenty of other lows.

Throughout it all has been Pippin. She does'nt do any special tricks, she's had no brushes with death, she's just an ordinary cat.

What makes her wonderful is that when I've fallen, she's been there. We've had to move house several times - we've gone from rural farmhouse to scruffy chav terrace - yet she'll make friends and enjoy outside wherever she lives. She's watched me staggering about ripped to my tits on cheap white wine, but stayed until I got sober and I know that when I get home from the nightshift I'm currently working she'll be very happy to see me.

I'm single now. I'll be 39 soon. Frankly, I don't care because as long as Pippin is at large I'll have a companion.
(, Sun 10 Jun 2007, 0:04, closed)

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