Cat....
I got her when I was 12 and she quickly became part of the family despite being a vicious fur ball of terror to everyone apart from me. I loved her *so* much, she was my constant companion and despite the fact that I wasn't the one who fed her, I was most definitely her favourite.

She wasn't a very cuddly cat for the most part but she did love to be petted and had her own way of letting me know she cared (ahhhhh) If I was upset she would sit in front of me furrowing her kitty brow like a concerned parent. If I was ill she would sit on my bed watching me with a grave expression on her face. In fact, she would always wait for me to get home from wherever I was; I'd find her curled up on the end of my bed purring softly.

I really don't think there's anything quite like drifting off to sleep to the sound of a cat purring contentedly.

Age 25, I realised that she wasn't very well at all and despite our best efforts she had to be put down. My Mum called me at work to tell me and I was inconsolable, I had to go home.

When I got in, the tears started afresh and I cried like a baby. Later that night I went up to my room and was half expecting to see her there, got changed for bed and got in as I scooted down and got comfy, my feet hit a warm patch almost as if she'd been waiting for me to come up one last time....
(GirlOfTheWorld, Wed 9 Jul 2008, 13:54, 2 replies)

Sorry about your pusska
After my cat died I felt her lying on my legs twice when I was in bed. I can't help thinking it must have been my imagination since I was drowsy and she'd never been allowed into the bedrooms when she was alive, but it felt so unbelievably real.
(clumsyeloquence is a girl, Wed 9 Jul 2008, 18:24, closed)

,
You still lived with your parents at 25?
(Freddles, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 11:44, closed)